[There is a alight movement of the door.  Anne makes a dive towards the table but is arrested by Poulder grasping her waistband.  Lord William slips in, followed by the press, on whom James and Thomas close the door too soon.]

Half of the press. [Indignantly] Look out!

James.  Do you want him in or out, me Lord?

Lemmy.  I sy, you’ve divided the Press; ’e was unanimous.

     [The footmen let the press through.]

Lord W. [To the press] I’m so sorry.

Lemmy.  Would yer like me to see to ’is gas?

Lord W. So you’re my friend of the cellars?

Lemmy. [Uneasy] I daon’t deny it.

     [Poulder begins removing little Anne.]

L. Anne.  Let me stay, Daddy; I haven’t seen anything yet!  If I go, I shall only have to come down again when they loot the house.  Listen!

     [The hoarse strains of the Marseillaise are again heard from the
     distance.]

Lord W. [Blandly] Take her up, Poulder!

L. Anne.  Well, I’m coming down again—­and next time I shan’t have any clothes on, you know.

     [They vanish between the pillars.  Lord William makes a sign of
     dismissal.  The footman file out.]

Lemmy. [Admiringly] Luv’ly pyces!

Lord W. [Pleasantly] Now then; let’s have our talk, Mr.——­

Lemmy.  Lemmy.

Press. [Who has slipped his note-book out] “Bombed and Bomber face to face——­”

Lemmy. [Uneasy] I didn’t come ’ere agyne on me own, yer know.  The
Press betryed me.

Lord W. Is that old lady your mother?

Lemmy.  The syme.  I tell yer stryte, it was for ’er I took that old bottle o’ port.  It was orful old.

Lord W. Ah!  Port?  Probably the ’83.  Hope you both enjoyed it.

Lemmy.  So far-yus.  Muvver’ll suffer a bit tomower, I expect.

Lord W. I should like to do something for your mother, if you’ll allow me.

Lemmy.  Oh!  I’ll allow yer.  But I dunno wot she’ll sy.

Lord W. I can see she’s a fine independent old lady!  But suppose you were to pay her ten bob a week, and keep my name out of it?

Lemmy.  Well, that’s one wy o’ you doin’ somefink, ’yn’t it?

Lord W. I giving you the money, of course.

Press. [Writing] “Lord William, with kingly generosity——­”

Lemmy. [Drawing attention to the press with his thumb] I sy—­
I daon’t mind, meself—­if you daon’t——­

Lord W. He won’t write anything to annoy me.