CALWAY. [Smiling.] Really! Ah! I think you said he was a congenital?
WELLWYN. [With great interest.] What!
ANN. [Low.] Daddy! [To CALWAY.] Yes; I—I think that's what you call him.
CALWAY. Not old?
ANN. No; and quite healthy—a vagabond.
CALWAY. [Sipping.] I see! Yes. Is it, do you think chronic unemployment with a vagrant tendency? Or would it be nearer the mark to say: Vagrancy——
WELLWYN. Pure! Oh! pure! Professor. Awfully human.
CALWAY. [With a smile of knowledge.] Quite! And—er——
ANN. [Breaking in.] Before he comes, there's another——
BERTLEY. [Blandly.] Yes, when you came in, we were discussing what should be done with a man who drinks rum—[CALWAY pauses in the act of drinking]—that doesn't belong to him.