What's that you're passing round? Another secret from me?
Ste. (blandly). No. (Passing him the paper.) Bamford (reading). "Make Bamford Mayor next year." (He looks up at each in turn.) Um. Well. Bamford's willing.
Alcorn. I think it's very suitable.
Ste. Yes. We'll call it a recreation ground, eh, Mr. Mayor-Elect?
Bamford. I'm not a favourite with the psalmsinging set, you know.
Alcorn. I've got them in my pocket. They'll be squared all right.
Ste. If I say mayor, you'll be mayor. You make a bit on the mayoral allowance, you know. Needn't spend above half of it.
Bamford. All right. No need to say more. It's a recreation ground and damn the expense. (The tension passes.)
Ste. Right. Got those papers with you, Alcorn? Alcorn. Yes. (Fussily producing and smoothing the typewritten articles of association.)
Ste. Your signature's wanted, Bamford. Bamford (examining the paper). Land Development Syndicate, Ltd. Sounds well, anyhow. Hullo! What's this? Registered Offices, London Wall, E.C.