BALSQUITH. I do. How do you think parties are kept up? Not by the subscriptions of the local associations, I hope. They dont pay for the gas at the meetings.
MITCHENER. Man; can you not be serious? Here are we, face to face with Lady Richmond's grave displeasure; and you talk to me about gas and subscriptions. Her own nephew.
BALSQUITH (gloomily). Its unfortunate. He was at Oxford with Bobby Bassborough.
MITCHENER. Worse and worse. What shall we do?
Balsquith shakes his head. They contemplate one another in miserable silence.
A VOICE WITHOUT. Votes for Women! Votes for Women!
A terrific explosion shakes the building—they take no notice.
MITCHENER (breaking down). You dont know what this means to me, Balsquith. I love the army. I love my country.
BALSQUITH. It certainly is rather awkward.
The Orderly comes in.