Eustace (taken aback): Mercia, dear. I know you mean it awfully nicely. But really, in public——

Hashovit (glowering): You see—you degrade yourself to no purpose.

The Colonel (warmly): Degrade? Nonsense!... I, of course, dont mean to imply——

Hashovit: But damn it all, Colonel——

Mercia (screaming): Dont shout, Harmodius.

The wrangle proceeds on the familiar Shavian lines, the party being reinforced for no apparent reason by the arrival of Dan Bigby, an old sea-captain, and Michael John O’Sullivan.

Eustace (at long last): Look here, Im getting sick of this. Its all too much like a play by Bernard Shaw.

Hashovit (growling): Everyone is at heart a Shavian.

The Colonel (hastily): No, really, Harmodius.... O’Sullivan, Brill, we cant have that——

Eustace: The truth about Shaw——}(Spoken together.)
Hashovit: My idea of Shaw——}
Michael John: Sure, if you cometo talk about Shaw——}
Mrs. Lazyboy: Hes quite right. Theinfluence of that man Shaw——}
Captain Dan: Who was Shaw, anyway?}