PHILIP (yawning). I suppose so. I haven't really thought about it much.
JAMES. You never wanted to be an architect?
PHILIP (surprised). Architect? (JAMES rubs his head and wonders what made him think of architect.)
JAMES. Or anything like that.
PHILIP. It's a bit late, isn't it?
JAMES. Well, if you're four years behind, so is everybody else. (He feels vaguely that he has heard this argument before.)
PHILIP (smiling): To tell the truth, I don't feel I mind much anyway. Anything you like—except a commissionaire. I absolutely refuse to wear uniform again.
JAMES. How would you like to come into the business?
PHILIP. The jam business? Well, I don't know. You wouldn't want me to salute you in the mornings?
JAMES. My dear boy, no!