Peter (turning quickly from door). And this is London. You're on holiday.
Glad, (checking him). But not from my conscience, Mr. Garside.
Peter. Oh, conscience is so much a matter of climate. A Midlandton conscience finds London air very relaxing.
Glad, (sitting slowly right as before). I don't think you ought to disturb your mother, Mr. Garside.
Peter (resuming his own chair, with conscious hypocrisy). No. Old people need such a lot of sleep. So that's settled. Let me see. I was talking about myself, wasn't I?
Glad. Yes. You seem to find the subject interesting.
Peter. I'll talk about the weather if you prefer it.
Glad. No. You can stick to your text.
Peter. Thanks. But I wasn't talking about myself alone.
Glad, (reflectively). I don't remember the exception. It was all yourself and the money you're going to make.