ould I have a word with you on
the crisis, before dinner, Lord William?

LORD W. It's time you and James were up, Poulder. [Indicating the
cooler] Look after this; tell Lady William I'll be there in a
minute.

POULDER. Very good, me Lord.

[He goes, followed by JAMES carrying the cooler.]

[As THE PRESS turns to look after them, LORD WILLIAM catches
sight of his back.]

LORD W. I must apologise, sir. Can I brush you?

PRESS. [Dusting himself] Thanks; it's only behind. [He opens his
note-book] Now, Lord William, if you'd kindly outline your views on
the national situation; after such a narrow escape from death, I feel
they might have a moral effect. My paper, as you know, is concerned
with--the deeper aspect of things. By the way, what do you value
your house and collection at?

LORD W. [Twisting his little mustache] Really: I can't! Really!

PRESS. Might I say a quarter of a million-lifted in two seconds and
a half-hundred thousand to the second. It brings it home, you know.

LORD W. No, no; dash it! No!

PRESS. [Disappointed] I see--not draw attention to your property in
the present excited state of public feeling? Well, suppose we
approach it from the viewpoint of the Anti-Sweating dinner. I have
the list of guests--very weighty!

LORD W. Taken some lifting-wouldn't they?

PRESS. [Seriously] May I say that you designed the dinner to soften
the tension, at this crisis? You saw that case, I suppose, this
morning, of the woman dying of starvation in Bethnal Green?

LORD W. [Desperately] Yes-yes! I've been horribly affected. I
always knew this slump would come after the war, sooner or later.

PRESS. [Writing] "... had predicted slump."

LORD W. You see, I've been an Anti-Sweating man for years, and I
thought if only we could come together now....

PRESS. [Nodding] I see--I see! Get Society interested in the
Sweated, through the dinner. I have the menu here. [He produces it.]

LORD W. Good God, man--more than that! I want to show the people
that we stand side by side with them, as we did in the trenches. The
whole thing's too jolly awful. I lie awake over it.

[He walks up and down.]

PRESS. [Scribbling] One moment, please. I'll just get that down--
"Too jolly awful--lies awake over it. Was wearing a white waistcoat
with pearl buttons." [At a sign of resentment from his victim.]
I want the human touch, Lord William--it's everything