Venables [liking him for the first time].  Good.  But you are wrong.  There are no conditions, and we want you to make your speech.  Now do you accept?

John [still suspicious].  If you make me the same offer after you have read it.  I insist on your reading it first.

Venables [sighing].  By all means.

[Maggie is in an agony as she sees John hand the speech to his leader.  On the other hand, the Comtesse thrills.]

But I assure you we look on the speech as a small matter.  The important thing is your intention of going to a division; and we agree to that also.

John [losing his head].  What’s that?

Venables.  Yes, we agree.

John.  But—­but—­why, you have been threatening to excommunicate me if
I dared.

Venables.  All done to test you, Shand.

John.  To test me?

Venables.  We know that a division on your Bill can have no serious significance; we shall see to that.  And so the test was to be whether you had the pluck to divide the House.  Had you been intending to talk big in this speech, and then hedge, through fear of the Government, they would have had no further use for you.

John [heavily].  I understand. [But there is one thing he cannot understand, which is, why Venables should be so sure that he is not to hedge.]

Venables [turning over the pages carelessly].  Any of your good things in this, Shand?

John [whose one desire is to get the pages back].  No, I—­no—­it isn’t necessary you should read it now.

Venables [from politeness only].  Merely for my own pleasure.  I shall look through it this evening. [He rolls up the speech to put it in his pocket.  John turns despairingly to Maggie, though well aware that no help can come from her.]

Maggie.  That’s the only copy there is, John. [To Venables] Let me make a fresh one, and send it to you in an hour or two.

Venables [good-naturedly].  I could not put you to that trouble, Mrs. Shand.  I will take good care of it.

Maggie.  If anything were to happen to you on the way home, wouldn’t whatever is in your pocket be considered to be the property of your heirs?

Venables [laughing].  Now there is forethought!  Shand, I think that after that—! [He returns the speech to John, whose hand swallows it greedily.] She is Scotch too, Comtesse.

Comtesse [delighted].  Yes, she is Scotch too.

Venables.  Though the only persons likely to do for me in the street, Shand, are your ladies’ committee.  Ever since they took the horse out of my brougham, I can scent them a mile away.

Comtesse.  A mile?  Charles, peep in there.

[He softly turns the handle of the dining-room door, and realises that his scent is not so good as he had thought it.  He bids his hostess and the Comtesse good-bye in a burlesque whisper and tiptoes off to safer places.  John having gone out with him, Maggie can no longer avoid the COMTESSE’s reproachful eye.  That much injured lady advances upon her with accusing finger.]