JAMES. [To POULDER] Well, I'll merely empty the pail over you!
POULDER. This is not becomin'!
[He walks out into the hall.]
JAMES. Another strategic victory! What a Boche he'd have made. As you were, Tommy!
[THOMAS returns to the door. The sound of prolonged applause cornea from within.]
That's a bishop.
L. ANNE. Why?
JAMES. By the way he's drawin'. It's the fine fightin' spirit in 'em. They were the backbone o' the war. I see there's a bit o' the old stuff left in you, Tommy.
L. ANNE. [Scrutinizing the widely—grinning THOM] Where? Is it in his mouth?
JAMES. You've still got a sense of your superiors. Didn't you notice how you moved to Poulder's orders, me boy; an' when he was gone, to mine?