NY [calling into the shelter] Rummy: the Major says you must
come.

Jenny comes to Barbara, purposely keeping on the side next Bill,
lest he should suppose that she shrank from him or bore malice.

BARBARA. Poor little Jenny! Are you tired? [Looking at the
wounded cheek] Does it hurt?

JENNY. No: it's all right now. It was nothing.

BARBARA [critically] It was as hard as he could hit, I expect.
Poor Bill! You don't feel angry with him, do you?

JENNY. Oh no, no, no: indeed I don't, Major, bless his poor
heart! [Barbara kisses her; and she runs away merrily into the
shelter. Bill writhes with an agonizing return of his new and
alarming symptoms, but says nothing. Rummy Mitchens comes from
the shelter].

BARBARA [going to meet Rummy] Now Rummy, bustle. Take in those
mugs and plates to be washed; and throw the crumbs about for the
birds.

Rummy takes the three plates and mugs; but Shirley takes back his
mug from her, as there it still come milk left in it.

RUMMY. There ain't any crumbs. This ain't a time to waste good
bread on birds.

PRICE [appearing at the shelter door] Gentleman come to see the
shelter, Major. Says he's your father.

BARBARA. All right. Coming. [Snobby goes back into the shelter,
followed by Barbara].

RUMMY [stealing across to Bill and addressing him in a subdued
voice, but with intense conviction] I'd av the lor of you, you
flat eared pignosed potwalloper, if she'd let me. You're no
gentleman, to hit a lady in the face. [Bill, with greater things
moving in him, takes no notice].

SHIRLEY [following her] Here! in with you and don't get yourself
into more trouble by talking.

RUMMY [with hauteur] I ain't ad the pleasure o being hintroduced
to you, as I can remember. [She goes into the shelter with the
plates].

BILL [savagely] Don't you talk to me, d'ye hear. You lea me
alone, or I'll do you a mischief. I'm not dirt under your feet,
anyway.

SHIRLEY [calmly] Don't you be afeerd. You ain't such prime
company that you need expect to be sought after. [He is about to
go into the shelter when Barbara comes out, with Undershaft on
her right].

BARBARA. Oh there you are, Mr Shirley! [Between them] This is my
father: I told you he was a Secularist, didn't I? Perhaps you'll
be able to comfort one another.

UNDERSHAFT [startled] A Secularist! Not the least in the world:
on the contrary, a confirmed mystic.

BARBARA. Sorry, I'm sure. By the way, papa, what is your
religion--in case I