CULVER ( watching the door close ). Tranto, we are conspirators.
TRANTO. You and I?
CULVER. Yes. But we must have no secrets. Who wrote that article in The Echo ? Who is Sampson Straight?
TRANTO ( temporising, lightly ). You remind me of the man with the pistol.
CULVER. Is it Hildegarde?
TRANTO. How did you guess?
CULVER. Well; first, I knew my daughter couldn't be the piffling lunatic who does your war cookery articles. Second, I asked myself: What reason has she for pretending to be that piffling lunatic? Third, I have an exceedingly high opinion of my daughter's brains. Fourth, she gave a funny start just now when I mentioned the idea of Sampson Straight going to the Tower.
TRANTO. Perhaps I ought to explain—
CULVER. No you oughn't. There's no time. I simply wanted a bit of information. I've got it. Now I have a bit of information for you. I've been offered a place in this beautiful Honours List. Baronetcy! Me! I am put on the same high plane as Mr. James Brill, the unspeakable. The formal offer hasn't actually arrived—it's late; I expect the letter'll be here in the morning—but I know for a fact I'm in the List for a baronetcy.
TRANTO. Well, I congratulate you.