(Varlie meanwhile has very quietly slipped round so as to be on the front of the piano, within reach of coffee cup.)
Minister.
(Putting up his hand and gently interrupting.) Now don’t talk about schemes, young man. This is my recreation hour. Seeing you carries me back to when I was a young chap myself. My father was one of the old school and sent me round the world to finish my education.
(Varlie’s right cheek now faces Loveday, she gazes at it, starts with amazed half recognition, for the top half of the scar is visible.)
Minister.
I remember very well going to New Zealand—and seeing its pink and white terraces. Ah! They were wonderful, wonderful.
Gordon.
They must have been, Sir (his heart beginning to sink into his boots).
Minister.
Yes, of course. They were destroyed before you could have seen them. A terrible volcanic outburst that! Incredible. Why those great pink and white terraces looked as though no power on earth could destroy them. So beautiful they were too! So beautiful. Like coloured marble that had been spun into lace cascades by magicians. Well, well, sic transit gloria mundi! (He shakes Gordon’s hand.) I’m glad to have had this little talk with you, Mr. Hyde. These pleasant meetings help to link up the Empire. Good-bye. Good Luck.