ught to be so careful. I shall make you wear a hard
hat. Those squashy hats of yours are hopelessly inefficient.

WELLWYN. [Gazing at his hat.] Calway wears one.

ANN. As if anyone would beg of Professor Calway.

WELLWYN. Well-perhaps not. You know, Ann, I admire that fellow.
Wonderful power of-of-theory! How a man can be so absolutely tidy in
his mind! It's most exciting.

ANN. Has any one begged of you to-day?

WELLWYN. [Doubtfully.] No--no.

ANN. [After a long, severe look.] Will you have rum in your tea?

WELLWYN. [Crestfallen.] Yes, my dear--a good deal.

ANN. [Pouring out the rum, and handing him the glass.] Well, who
was it?

WELLWYN. He didn't beg of me. [Losing himself in recollection.]
Interesting old creature, Ann--real type. Old cabman.

ANN. Where?

WELLWYN. Just on the Embankment.

ANN. Of course! Daddy, you know the Embankment ones are always
rotters.

WELLWYN. Yes, my dear; but this wasn't.

ANN. Did you give him your card?

WELLWYN. I--I--don't

ANN. Did you, Daddy?

WELLWYN. I'm rather afraid I may have!

ANN. May have! It's simply immoral.

WELLWYN. Well, the old fellow was so awfully human, Ann. Besides, I
didn't give him any money--hadn't got any.

ANN. Look here, Daddy! Did you ever ask anybody for anything? You
know you never did, you'd starve first. So would anybody decent.
Then, why won't you see that people who beg are rotters?

WELLWYN. But, my dear, we're not all the same. They wouldn't do it
if it wasn't natural to them. One likes to be friendly. What's the
use of being alive if one isn't?

ANN. Daddy, you're hopeless.

WELLWYN. But, look here, Ann, the whole thing's so jolly
complicated. According to Calway, we're to give the State all we can
spare, to make the undeserving deserving. He's a Professor; he ought
to know. But old Hoxton's always dinning it into me that we ought to
support private organisations for helping the deserving, and damn the
undeserving. Well, that's just the opposite. And he's a J.P.
Tremendous experience. And the Vicar seems to be for a little bit of
both. Well, what the devil----? My trouble is, whichever I'm with,
he always converts me. [Ruefully.] And there's no fun in any of
them.

ANN. [Rising.] Oh! Daddy, you are so--don't you know that you're
the despair of all social reformers? [She envelops him.] There's a
tear in the left knee of your trousers. You're not to wear them