MARY. Is there anything special, Dad?
MR MARCH. This sulphurous government. [He drops the paper] Give me a match, Mary.
As soon as the paper is out of his hands he becomes a different—an
affable man.
MARY. [Giving him a match] D'you mind writing in here this morning,
Dad? Your study hasn't been done. There's nobody but Cook.
MR MARCH. [Lighting his pipe] Anywhere.
He slews the armchair towards the fire.
MARY. I'll get your things, then.
She goes out.
JOHNNY. [Still on the fender] What do you say, Dad? Is civilisation built on chivalry or on self-interest?
MR MARCH. The question is considerable, Johnny. I should say it was built on contract, and jerry-built at that.