SHIRLEY [suddenly stubborn] My religion's no concern of anybody but myself.
BARBARA [guessing] I know. Secularist?
SHIRLEY [hotly] Did I offer to deny it?
BARBARA. Why should you? My own father's a Secularist, I think. Our Father—yours and mine—fulfils himself in many ways; and I daresay he knew what he was about when he made a Secularist of you. So buck up, Peter! we can always find a job for a steady man like you. [Shirley, disarmed, touches his hat. She turns from him to Bill]. What's your name?
BILL [insolently] Wot's that to you?
BARBARA [calmly making a note] Afraid to give his name. Any trade?
BILL. Who's afraid to give his name? [Doggedly, with a sense of heroically defying the House of Lords in the person of Lord Stevenage] If you want to bring a charge agen me, bring it. [She waits, unruffled]. My name's Bill Walker.
BARBARA [as if the name were familiar: trying to remember how] Bill Walker? [Recollecting] Oh, I know: you're the man that Jenny Hill was praying for inside just now. [She enters his name in her note book].
BILL. Who's Jenny Hill? And what call has she to pray for me?
BARBARA. I don't know. Perhaps it was you that cut her lip.