Sladder: "The only food"? I don't like that.
Splurge: It will go down all right, sir, so long as the posters are big enough.
Sladder: Go down all right! I wasn't fool enough to suppose that it wouldn't go down all right. What are posters for if the public doesn't believe them? Of course it will go down all right.
Splurge: O, I beg your pardon, sir. Then what don't you quite like about it?
Sladder: I might invent another food one of these days, and then where should we be?
Splurge: I hadn't thought of that, sir.
Sladder: Out with it.
Splurge: (Scratches with pencil). "Cheezo is made out of the purest milk from purest English cows."
Sladder: Y-e-s, y-e-s. I don't say you're wrong. I don't say you're exactly wrong. But in business, Splurge, you want to keep more to generalities. Talk about the bonds that bind the Empire, talk about the Union Jack, talk by all means about the purity of the English cow; but definite statements you know, definite statements——
Splurge: O, yes, I know, sir; but the police never interfere with anything one puts on a poster. It would be bad for business, a jury would never convict, and——