Peter. Have they all gone?
Mrs. G. Yes. (Pathetically puzzled.) What does it all mean, Peter?
Peter. Mean? Ruin. My career's blasted. (Sits at table, turning chair towards her.)
Mrs. G. But why, Peter? I can't understand it. I——
Peter. Why? Because I was too successful. Jealousy. That's it. They do nothing themselves, but they won't give young blood a chance. Mediocrity's their motto. They've no use for brains. So I'm kicked out.
Mrs. G. Don't take on about it, deary. They'll find they can't do without you.
Peter. You'd always faith, hadn't you, mother? (Turning to table and putting his head on his hands.) But I've fallen like Lucifer, never to rise again.
Mrs. G. (struck with a new delightful thought, hesitating to utter it). Peter, it means—it means——
Peter (not turning). What?
Mrs. G. (standing centre). Oh, I'm so glad.