and let you have an answer.
You know my faults, and you know my qualities, such as they are. I'm
just a plain Englishman.

MAYOR. We don't want anything better than that. I always say the great
point about an Englishman is that he's got bottom; you may knock him off
his pins, but you find him on 'em again before you can say "Jack
Robinson." He may have his moments of aberration, but he's a sticker.
Morning, Builder, morning! Hope you'll say "yes."

He shakes hands and goes out, followed by HARRIS.

When the door is dosed BUILDER stands a moment quite still with a
gratified smile on his face; then turns and scrutinises himself in
the glass over the hearth. While he is doing so the door from the
dining-room is opened quietly and CAMILLE comes in. BUILDER,
suddenly seeing her reflected in the mirror, turns.

BUILDER. What is it, Camille?

CAMILLE. Madame send me for a letter she say you have, Monsieur, from
the dyer and cleaner, with a bill.

BUILDER. [Feeling in his pockets] Yes--no. It's on the table.

CAMILLE goes to the writing-table and looks. That blue thing.

CAMILLE. [Taking it up] Non, Monsieur, this is from the gas.

BUILDER. Oh! Ah!
[He moves up to the table and turns over papers. CAMILLE stands
motionless close by with her eyes fixed on him.]
Here it is!
[He looks up, sees her looking at him, drops his own gaze, and hands
her the letter. Their hands touch. Putting his hands in his
pockets]
What made you come to England?

CAMILLE. [Demure] It is better pay, Monsieur, and [With a smile] the
English are so amiable.

BUILDER. Deuce they are! They haven't got that reputation.

CAMILLE. Oh! I admire Englishmen. They are so strong and kind.

BUILDER. [Bluffly flattered] H'm! We've no manners.

CAMILLE. The Frenchman is more polite, but not in the 'eart.

BUILDER. Yes. I suppose we're pretty sound at heart.

CAMILLE. And the Englishman have his life in the family--the Frenchman
have his life outside.

BUILDER. [With discomfort] H'm!

CAMILLE. [With a look] Too mooch in the family--like a rabbit in a
'utch.

BUILDER. Oh! So that's your view of us! [His eyes rest on her,
attracted but resentful].

CAMILLE. Pardon, Monsieur, my tongue run away with me.

BUILDER. [Half conscious of being led on] Are you from Paris?

CAMILLE. [Clasping her hands] Yes. What a town for pleasure--Paris!

BUIL