[She goes out, overwhelmed.
NANCY (the hostess). Jack, dear!
BROXOPP. What is it, boy?
JACK. You said the moment would come. It has come. (In the BROXOPP manner) Chillingham’s Cheese for Chickens!
IRIS (eagerly). Yes, yes! What fun!
BROXOPP. Are you suggesting that I should take up this food—patent it—put it on the market?
JACK. I—you—we—all of us. You’re in it, Iris?
IRIS. Rather!
BROXOPP. But—but——
JACK. Chillingham’s Cheese for Chickens. It’s the idea of a century.