Savoyard.  Lord! no:  heaven forbid!  You must be careful what you say about that:  I shouldnt like anyone to call me an Intellectual:  I dont think any Englishman would!  They dont count really, you know; but still it’s rather the thing to have them.  Gunn is one of the young intellectuals:  he writes plays himself.  Hes useful because he pitches into the older intellectuals who are standing in his way.  But you may take it from me that none of these chaps really matter.  Flawner Bannal’s your man.  Bannal really represents the British playgoer.  When he likes a thing, you may take your oath there are a hundred thousand people in London thatll like it if they can only be got to know about it.  Besides, Bannal’s knowledge of the theatre is an inside knowledge.  We know him; and he knows us.  He knows the ropes:  he knows his way about:  he knows what hes talking about.

The count. [with a little sigh] Age and experience, I suppose?

Savoyard.  Age!  I should put him at twenty at the very outside, myself.  It’s not an old man’s job after all, is it?  Bannal may not ride the literary high horse like Trotter and the rest; but I’d take his opinion before any other in London.  Hes the man in the street; and thats what you want.

The count.  I am almost sorry you didnt give the gentleman his full terms.  I should not have grudged the fifty guineas for a sound opinion.  He may feel shabbily treated.

Savoyard.  Well, let him.  It was a bit of side, his asking fifty.  After all, what is he?  Only a pressman.  Jolly good business for him to earn ten guineas:  hes done the same job often enough for half a quid, I expect.

Fanny O’Dowda comes precipitately through the curtains, excited and nervous.  A girl of nineteen in a dress synchronous with her father’s.

Fanny.  Papa, papa, the critics have come.  And one of them has a cocked hat and sword like a—­ [she notices Savoyard] Oh, I beg your pardon.

The count.  This is Mr Savoyard, your impresario, my dear.

Fanny. [shaking hands] How do you do?

Savoyard.  Pleased to meet you, Miss O’Dowda.  The cocked hat is all right.  Trotter is a member of the new Academic Committee.  He induced them to go in for a uniform like the French Academy; and I asked him to wear it.

The footman. [announcing] Mr Trotter, Mr Vaughan, Mr Gunn, Mr Flawner Bannal. [The four critics enter.  Trotter wears a diplomatic dress, with sword and three-cornered hat.  His age is about 50.  Vaughan is 40.  Gunn is 30.  Flawner Bannal is 20 and is quite unlike the others.  They can be classed at sight as professional men:  Bannal is obviously one of those unemployables of the business class who manage to pick up a living by a sort of courage which gives him cheerfulness, conviviality, and bounce, and is helped out positively by a slight turn for writing, and negatively by a comfortable ignorance and lack of intuition which hides from him all the dangers and disgraces that keep men of finer perception in check.  The Count approaches them hospitably].