PHOEBE. It’s awfully rough on you, Geoffrey. I can see it from your
point of view. But one can’t help remembering the things that you
yourself have said.
GEOFFREY. I know; I know. I’ve been going up and down the country,
excusing even your excesses on the ground that no movement can force its
way to the front without treading on innumerable toes. For me, now, to
cry halt merely because it happens to be my own toes that are in the way
would be—ridiculous—absurd—would be monstrous. (_Nobody contradicts
him_.) You are perfectly justified—if this case means what you say it
does—in putting up a candidate against me for East Poplar. Only,
naturally, it cannot be Annys. (_He reaches out his hand to where_ ANNYS
_stands a little behind him_, _takes her hand_.) Annys and I have fought
more than one election. It has been side by side.
ELIZABETH. The lady a little behind.