MARY. Oh, I can do all right on bread and cheese, ma’am.
NANCY. Well then, so can I. And Jim can have the chop. There! Now let me get on with my work. (Contemptuously to herself as she goes on with her drawing) Starving! And in a house full of bread and cheese!
MARY. Mr. Broxopp is not the sort of gentleman to eat a chop while his wife is only eating a bit of cheese.
NANCY (with love in her voice and eyes). No, he isn’t! (Proudly) Isn’t he a fine man, Mary?
MARY. Yes, he’s a real gentleman is Mr. Broxopp. It’s queer he doesn’t make more money.
NANCY. Well, you see, he’s an artist.
[6]MARY (surprised). An artist? Now that’s funny, I’ve never seen him painting any of his pictures.
NANCY. I don’t mean that sort of an artist. I mean he’s—— (Wrinkling her forehead) Now, how did he put it yesterday? He likes ideas for their own sake. He wants to educate the public up to them. He doesn’t believe in pandering to the public for money. He’s in advance of his generation—like all great artists.
MARY (hopefully). Yes, ma’am.
NANCY (pointing to the advertisement of Spenlow’s suspenders). Now, there you see what I mean. Now that’s what the artist in Mr. Broxopp feels that a suspender-advertisement ought to be like. But Mr. Spenlow doesn’t agree with him. Mr. Spenlow says it’s above the public’s head. And so he’s rejected Jim’s work. That’s the worst of trying to work for a man like Mr. Spenlow. He doesn’t understand artists. Jim says that if he saw an advertisement like that, he’d buy ten pairs at once, even if he never wore anything but kilts. And Jim says you can’t work for men like that, and one day he’ll write advertisements for something of his own.