e
thing.
TRANTO. What's that?
HILDEGARDE. You're an editor, and I'm a contributor whom you've never
met.
_Enter_ Mrs. Culver (_L_).
MRS. CULVER. Mr. Tranto, how are you? (_Shaking hands_.) I'm delighted
to see you. So sorry I didn't warn you we dine half an hour
later--thanks to the scandalous way the Government slave-drives my poor
husband. Please do excuse me. (_She sits_).
TRANTO. On the contrary, it's I who should ask to be excused--proposing
myself like this at the last moment.
MRS. CULVER. It was very nice of you to think of us. Come and sit down
here. (_Indicating a place by her side on the sofa_.) Now in my poor
addled brain I had an idea you were engaged for to-night at your aunt's,
Lady Blackfriars'.
TRANTO (_sitting_). Mrs. Culver, you forget nothing. I _was_ engaged for
Auntie Joe's, but she's ill and she's put me off.
MRS. CULVER. Dear me! How very sudden!
TRANTO. Sudden?
MRS. CULVER. I met Lady Blackfriars at tea late this afternoon and it
struck me how well she was looking.
TRANTO. Yes, she always looks particularly well just before she's going
to be ill. She's very brave, very brave.
MRS. CULVER. D'you mean in having twins? It was more than brave of her;
it was beautiful--both boys, too.
HILDEGARDE (_innocently_). Budgeting for a long war.
MRS. CULVER (_affectionately_). My dear girl! Come here, darling, you
haven't changed. Excuse me, Mr. Tranto.
HILDEGARDE (_approaching_). I've been so busy. And I thought nobody was
coming.
MRS. CULVER. Is your father nobody? (_stroking and patting_ Hildegarde's
_dress into order_). What have you been so busy on?
HILDEGARDE. Article for _The Echo_. (Tranto, _who has been holding the
MS., indicates it_.)
MRS. CULVER. I do wish you would let me see those cookery articles of
yours before they're printed.
TRANTO (_putting MS. in his pocket_). I'm afraid that's quite against
the rules. You see, in Fleet Street--
MRS. CULVER (_very pleasantly_). As you please. I don't pretend to be
intellectual. But I confess I'm just a wee bit disappointed in
Hildegarde's cookery articles. I'm a great believer in good cookery. I
put it next to the Christian religion--and far in front of mere
cleanliness. I've just been trying to read Professor Metchnikoff's
wonderful book on 'The Nature of Man.' It only confirms me in my
lifelong belief that until the nature of man is completely altered good
cooking is the chief thing that women ought to unde
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