Mrs. B. Ay, he's fair set on being a town councillor one day, like thy feyther.
Janet (quietly). That 'ud be fine.
Mrs. B. You'd a rare long meeting at the women's guild to-night.
Janet (without emotion). Ay. They've elected me to go to Manchester on the deputation.
Mrs. B. You'll like that.
Janet (suppressing a secret pride so that it is wholly imperceptible by the audience). It'll be well enough. I'm to go first-class. (A pause.) Young Mr. Inkslinger is going too.
Mrs. B. (with interest). Can they spare him from the boot-shop?
Janet. He's left them. He's writing a play.
Mrs. B. (concerned). Dear, dear! And he used to be such a steady young fellow.
[All that matters in their conversation is now finished, but as the play has got to be filled up they continue to talk for some ten minutes longer. At the end of that time—