etter up). It
does seem to have a key in it. (He opens the letter, and takes out a key
and a note.) "Dear Mitch"--Well, I'm dashed!

THE ORDERLY. Yes Sir.

MITCHENER. What do you mean by Yes Sir?

THE ORDERLY. Well, you said you was dashed, Sir; and you did look if
youll excuse my saying it, Sir--well, you looked it.

MITCHENER (who has been reading the letter, and is too astonished to
attend to the Orderlys reply). This is a letter from the Prime Minister
asking me to release the woman with this key if she padlocks herself,
and to have her shown up and see her at once.

THE ORDERLY (tremulously). Dont do it, governor.

MITCHENER (angrily). How often have I ordered you not to address me as
governor. Remember that you are a soldier and not a vulgar civilian.
Remember also that when a man enters the army he leaves fear behind him.
Heres the key. Unlock her and show her up.

THE ORDERLY. Me unlock her! I dursent. Lord knows what she'd do to me.

MITCHENER (pepperily, rising). Obey your orders instantly, Sir, and dont
presume to argue. Even if she kills you, it is your duty to die for your
country. Right about face. March. (The Orderly goes out, trembling.)

THE VOICE OUTSIDE. Votes for Women! Votes for Women! Votes for Women!

MITCHENER (mimicking her). Votes for Women! Votes for Women! Votes for
Women! (in his natural voice) Votes for children! Votes for babies!
Votes for monkeys! (He posts himself on the hearthrug, and awaits the
enemy.)

THE ORDERLY (outside). In you go. (He pushes a panting Suffraget into
the room.) The person sir. (He withdraws.)

The Suffraget takes off her tailor made skirt and reveals a pair of
fashionable trousers.

MITCHENER (horrified). Stop, madam. What are you doing? You must not
undress in my presence. I protest. Not even your letter from the Prime
Minister--

THE SUFFRAGET. My dear Mitchener: I AM the Prime Minister. (He tears off
his hat and cloak; throws them on the desk; and confronts the General in
the ordinary costume of a Cabinet minister.)

MITCHENER. Good heavens! Balsquith!

BALSQUITH (throwing himself into Mitchener's chair). Yes: it is indeed
Balsquith. It has come to this: that the only way that the Prime
Minister of England can get from Downing Street to the War Office is
by assuming this disguise; shrieking "VOTES for Women"; and chaining
himself to your doorscraper. They were at the corner in force. They
cheered me. Bellachristina herself was there. She sho