[He looks into the wine cooler.]
PRESS. [Taking out his note-book] Could I have a word with you on the crisis, before dinner, Lord William?
LORD W. It's time you and James were up, Poulder. [Indicating the cooler] Look after this; tell Lady William I'll be there in a minute.
POULDER. Very good, me Lord.
[He goes, followed by JAMES carrying the cooler.]
[As THE PRESS turns to look after them, LORD WILLIAM catches sight of his back.]
LORD W. I must apologise, sir. Can I brush you?
PRESS. [Dusting himself] Thanks; it's only behind. [He opens his note-book] Now, Lord William, if you'd kindly outline your views on the national situation; after such a narrow escape from death, I feel they might have a moral effect. My paper, as you know, is concerned with—the deeper aspect of things. By the way, what do you value your house and collection at?
LORD W. [Twisting his little mustache] Really: I can't! Really!
PRESS. Might I say a quarter of a million-lifted in two seconds and a half-hundred thousand to the second. It brings it home, you know.