ELIZABETH. We had an extra enthusiastic meeting. She spoke for rather a
long time. I made her come home with me and lie down. I think she is
all right now.
LADY MOGTON. Would you like to see a doctor?
PHOEBE. There is a very good man close here. (_She turns to_ JAWBONES,
_who is still near the window_.) Gordon—
ANNYS. (_Interrupting_.) No. Please don’t. I am quite all right. I
hate strange doctors.
PHOEBE. Well, let me send for Whitby; he could be here in twenty
minutes.
ANNYS. I wish you would all leave me alone. There’s absolutely nothing
to fuss about whatever. We pampered women—we can’t breathe the same air
that ordinary mortals have to. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves.
PHOEBE. (_To herself_.) Obstinate pig.
(_She catches_ JAWBONES’ _eye_; _unnoticed by the others_, _she takes
him aside_. _They whisper_.)
ANNYS. How is it going?
LADY MOGTON. You must be prepared for winning. (_She puts again the
question that_ ANNYS _has frequently been asked to answer during the last
few days_.) What are you going to do?
(MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS _enters_, _as usual in a flutter of
excitement_.)
MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS. Am I late?
(_They brush her back into silence_. ELIZABETH _takes charge of her_.)
ANNYS. (_She has risen_.) You think it wise tactics, to make it
impossible for Geoffrey to be anything else in the future but our enemy?
LADY MOGTON. (_Contemptuously_.) You are thinking of him, and not of
the cause.
ANNYS. And if I were! Haven’t I made sacrifice enough?—more than any of
you will ever know. Ay—and would make more, if I felt it was demanded of
me. I don’t! (_Her burst of anger is finished_. _She turns_,
_smiling_.) I’m much more cunning than you think. There will be other
elections we shall want to fight. With the Under-Secretary for Home
Affairs in sympathy with us, the Government will find it difficult to
interfere. Don’t you see how clever I am?
(JAWBONES, _having received his instructions from_ PHOEBE, _has slipped
out unobserved_. _He has beckoned to_ GINGER; _she has followed him_.
PHOEBE _has joined the group_.)
MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS. There’s something in that.
JANET. Is Mr. Chilvers still in sympathy with us?
PHOEBE. Of course he is. A bit rubbed up the wrong way just at present;
that’s our fault. When Annys goes down, early next mouth, to fight the
Exchange Division of Manchester, we shall have him with us.
(_A moment_.)
LADY MOGTON. Where do you get that from?
PHOEBE. From St. Herbert. The present member is his cousin. They say
he can’t live more than a week.
MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS. It really seems like Providence.
ANNYS. (_Has taken the opportunity of giving_ PHOEBE _a grateful squeeze
of the hand_.)
LADY MOGTON. You will fight Manchester?
ANNYS. Yes. (_Laughs_.) And make myself a public nuisance if I win.
LADY MOGTON. Well, must be content with that, I suppose. Better not
come in; the room’s rather crowded. I’ll keep you informed how things
are going.
(_She goes out_, _followed by_ JANET.)
MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS. I’ll stay with you, dear.
PHOEBE. I want you to come and be photographed for the Daily Mirror.
The man’s waiting downstairs.
ELIZABETH. I’ll stop with Annys.
MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS. I’m not quite sure, you know, that I take well
by flashlight.
PHOEBE. You wait till you’ve seen mamma! We must have you. They want
you for the centre of the page.