say is scrupulously true?
SWALECLIFFE.
We don’t doubt your word, Mr. Winter, but we came to London with a
particular object.
BOYCE.
I must say I thought from the beginning it was open to the gravest
question.
JAMES FORD.
The committee discussed it at length, and the majority agreed that....
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Rising._] Of course, of course, Etchingham, will you give these
gentlemen the assurance?
ETCHINGHAM.
[_After a moment’s hesitation._] I think the whole thing’s damned
impertinent.
BOYCE.
That’s exactly what I said.
JAMES FORD.
[_Quietly._] You’re only wasting time, Winter.
SWALECLIFFE.
We made up our minds that we must have a certain assurance from the lips
of Mrs. Winter. Then we can go back to Middlepool with comfortable
minds.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Trying bluster._] D’you mean to say you wish to cross-examine my wife?
SWALECLIFFE.
I merely wish her to answer the questions that were put to you in
Colonel Boyce’s letter on behalf of the committee.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Pretending to fly into a violent passion._] No decent woman would
stand it. I refuse to ask my wife to expose herself to such a
degradation.
JAMES FORD.
That means that you don’t represent Middlepool in the next Parliament,
George Winter.
GEORGE WINTER.
I’d sooner lose my seat than expose a defenceless woman to such
humiliation. You can go and tell that to your committee and be damned to
you!
SWALECLIFFE.
But we came up from Middlepool on the understanding that we were to see
your wife, Mr. Winter.
GEORGE WINTER.
My wife is in very delicate health.
JAMES FORD.
We shan’t keep her more than five minutes. You’d be wise to let common
sense get the better of your pretty sentiments.
[_There is a slight pause._ GEORGE WINTER _realizes that he cannot
bluff them out of their determination: he goes over silently and
rings the bell_.
GEORGE WINTER.
Very well.
JAMES FORD.
I think it’s the best thing, you know.
GEORGE WINTER.
But if my wife refuses to answer I warn you that I shall not say a word
to persuade her. I think the whole thing’s a perfect scandal.
[_The_ BUTLER _enters_.
GEORGE WINTER.
Tell Mrs. Winter that Lord Francis and I would be very much obliged if
she’d come to the drawing-room for one moment.
THOMPSON.
Very good, sir.
[_Exit._
BOYCE.
I wish you to know that I have expressed myself very strongly all
through against this proceeding.
JAMES FORD.
Shut up, Boyce. When we want your opinion we’ll ask for it.
[_They wait in silence. In a moment_ CATHERINE _comes in_.
GEORGE WINTER.
These are the gentlemen of whom I spoke to you. Gentlemen, here is my
wife.
JAMES FORD.
[_Cordially._] How d’you do, Mrs. Winter? Pleased to see you.
CATHERINE.
[_With a smile._] How d’you do?
JAMES FORD.
We’ve not had the pleasure of welcoming you in Middlepool for some time.
CATHERINE.
I’ve not been very well lately.
SWALECLIFFE.
[_To_ GEORGE WINTER.] Will you put the question to Mrs. Winter that we
set in our letter to you of the day before yesterday?
GEORGE WINTER.
No, sir. If you’re not ashamed to ask the question you may ask it
yourself.
SWALECLIFFE.
I am a stranger to Mrs. Winter. The matter requires some explanation.
JAMES FORD.
It’s no use making any bones about it, Swalecliffe. Mrs. Winter, I’m
sorry to put you in this position, but there it is, and it can’t be
helped. There are busybodies everywhere, and Middlepool has its fair
share of them. There’s been a lot of gossip about you and your good man,
and if we don’t look out it’ll lose him the election.
CATHERINE.
What do you want me to say to you?
JAMES FORD.
Well, we want to be able to go back to Middlepool and tell them we’ve
had it from your own lips that there’s no truth in these reports.
[_There is a pause._ ETCHINGHAM _can hardly bear his anxiety_.
BENNETT _is trying to hide his agitation_. GEORGE WINTER _looks at
her with a smile_. CATHERINE _and_ JAMES FORD _confront one
another, and she looks at him steadily_.
CATHERINE.
That you may do.
[ETCHINGHAM _cannot prevent a little gasp of relief, but_ GEORGE
WINTER _makes no sign_.
SWALECLIFFE.
You have no intention of divorcing your husband?
CATHERINE.
None whatever.
SWALECLIFFE.
You’ve never had any intention?
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Impatiently._] Good lord, isn’t that enough for you?
JAMES FORD.
[_Kindly._] Yes, yes, we won’t bother you any more. Thank you, very
much! And I’m glad that you’ve put our minds at rest. George Winter,
shake hands.
GEORGE WINTER.
I’ll shake hands with you, but I can’t help saying that I could have
expected more charity, more confidence in me from men who make a
practice of belief in the Christian Church.
JAMES FORD.
[_Unmoved by the rebuke._] That’s all right.
SWALECLIFFE.
I can understand your vexation, Mr. Winter. But we were in a very
difficult position.
JAMES FORD.
Anyhow, we must get along, and if we look sharp we’ll catch the 5.40
back to Middlepool. Good afternoon to you, Mrs. Winter. Good afternoon,
gentlemen.
GEORGE WINTER.
Mr. Bennett will show you out. Good-bye. Good-bye, Boyce. I shall be up
at Middlepool in a day or two.... [_As they are going out._] Oh, by the
way, Boyce, a little bit of information for you--Robert Colby’s going to
the War Office in the New Cabinet.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
THE THIRD ACT
_The scene is a spacious sitting-room in the Palace Hotel at
Middlepool. It is sumptuously furnished with the lack of taste
peculiar to such apartments. Everything is large and rich and
rather stiff. It is obvious that the decorations have been carried
out on contract by a first-rate firm. They are calculated to give
the business man who engages the room the impression that he is
getting his money’s worth._
_On the left is a large French window, opening to the floor and
looking on the square in front of the hotel. At the back is a door
leading into_ GEORGE WINTER’S _bedroom. On the right are two doors;
one leads into the passage, and the other is that of_ CATHERINE’S
_room_. _There is a telephone on the table._
_It is some weeks later, between ten and eleven on the morning of
the election._
LORD FRANCIS ETCHINGHAM, FRED BENNETT, JAMES FORD, COLONEL BOYCE,
_and_ MR. SWALECLIFFE. MR. SWALECLIFFE _is standing at the window_.
_When the curtain rises there is an excited buzz of conversation._
BOYCE _is at the telephone_.
BOYCE.
[_Speaking into the receiver._] Yes, Colonel Boyce. Be sure you don’t
make a mistake.
SWALECLIFFE.
I can’t imagine what’s become of him. One would have thought....
ETCHINGHAM.
[_To_ COLONEL BOYCE.] If he’s not there, you’d better try somewhere
else.
JAMES FORD.
[_Shouting._] For goodness’ sake let me hear myself speak.
[_These speeches are said simultaneously, and immediately
afterwards is heard the dull roar of a train passing through the
station, and a long, shrill whistle._ ETCHINGHAM _starts
nervously_.
ETCHINGHAM.
Oh, confound those trains.
JAMES FORD.
[_Impatiently._] I should have thought you’d got used to them by now.
ETCHINGHAM.
Good Lord, I’ve not slept for a week. They go on all night.
BENNETT.
They worried me a bit last night. And when I did get to sleep I heard
them whistling away through my dreams.
BOYCE.
They don’t seem to trouble Winter.
ETCHINGHAM.
If they did I suppose he wouldn’t come to this hotel.
JAMES FORD.
[_Nodding in the direction of_ GEORGE WINTER’S _room_.] He sleeps next
door, doesn’t he?
BOYCE.
He told me he slept like a top last night.
BENNETT.
[_Simultaneously._] He looked as fresh as paint this morning.
ETCHINGHAM.
And his room’s practically on the line.
JAMES FORD.
Oh, nonsense.
ETCHINGHAM.
Yes, it is. You just walk down a flight of steps into the garden, and
there you are within twenty feet of the line.
JAMES FORD.
Worst place in Middlepool for a hotel. I told them so when they came to
me about it. Wanted me to put money in it. Not me.
SWALECLIFFE.
[_Breaking in before_ JAMES FORD _has finished_.] Surely Mr. Winter
ought to be here by now.
JAMES FORD.
You won’t make him come any quicker by looking out of the window.
BOYCE.
Every moment’s valuable. Something ought to be done at once.
ETCHINGHAM.
[_Interrupting._] Don’t you know where he is, Colonel?
BOYCE.
He was booked to speak to the men at Parker and Gibbons at 10.30. But
you know what he is. Half a dozen places at once. He’s about the most
difficult person to catch I know.
SWALECLIFFE.
Have you sent down to Parker and Gibbons?
BOYCE.
Yes, of course I have; I’ve sent a dozen fellows after him to tell him
to come to the hotel at once.
BENNETT.
[_Talking through._] You’ve been careful? You’ve not ...?
BOYCE.
You don’t think I’m a beginner at this game, do you?
BENNETT.
Well, I didn’t know how you’d made him understand what had happened.
JAMES FORD.
He’s not made him understand. When Winter’s told he’s expected at the
Palace at once he’ll guess something’s in the wind.
SWALECLIFFE.
You’re sure he won’t go to the Committee Rooms?
BOYCE.
If he does he’ll be sent on. I thought it would cause a lot of gossip if
we had a meeting there. That’s why I suggested the hotel.
ETCHINGHAM.
[_Interrupting._] I wish to goodness you wouldn’t look so depressed, Mr.
Swalecliffe.
SWALECLIFFE.
You’re a business man, Mr. Ford. D’you think there’s any truth in this
article?
JAMES FORD.
You’d better ask Lord Francis. He’s chairman of the new company; I’m
only an investor.
BENNETT.
Of course there’s nothing in it. The whole thing’s a malicious libel.
JAMES FORD.
Well, we’ll hear what Winter’s got to say about it.
ETCHINGHAM.
[_Simultaneously._] My Lord, I wish he’d come.
BENNETT.
[_To_ JAMES FORD.] You don’t mean to say you think there’s anything in
it?
JAMES FORD.
I’ve applied for ten thousand shares. You don’t suppose I like it when
an article comes out in a financial paper on the day of issue that the
mine’s practically worked out, and Winter’s expert has reported that the
ore’s not worth the cost of crushing.
BOYCE.
Everybody who’s got a penny to spare in Middlepool has applied for
shares.
JAMES FORD.
George Winter told me it was the biggest thing he’d ever had.
BENNETT.
He’s never let you down before. Why should he let you down now?
JAMES FORD.
I don’t say he’s let me down. But he told me to put my shirt on it, and
... I don’t want ten thousand worthless shares.
BOYCE.
The damnable thing is that it should happen on the day of the election.
ETCHINGHAM.
It would be monstrous if people didn’t vote for him because of an
article in a London newspaper.
BOYCE.
You know what people are. They lose their heads. The seat has always
been won and lost on the wobblers.
JAMES FORD.
Oh, the first thing is to win the seat.
SWALECLIFFE.
Well, we shan’t do that unless Mr. Winter comes at once and we make up
our minds what to do.
ETCHINGHAM.
Ring up the Committee Rooms, Boyce, and ask if anything’s been heard of
him.
BOYCE.
All right. I’ll do that.
SWALECLIFFE.
I was never so taken aback as when Boyce showed me the telephone message
from London.
ETCHINGHAM.
When do the London papers get here, Mr. Ford?
JAMES FORD.
They ought to be here by half-past ten.
BOYCE.
[_Speaking into the receiver._] Put me on 78, will you?
ETCHINGHAM.
[_Simultaneously._] Why the devil don’t they bring them in?
BENNETT.
Don’t worry. I’ve told a waiter to bring them as soon as they arrive.
BOYCE.
[_At the telephone._] I say, is that you, Masters? Has Mr. Winter been
there? Well, send Rogers. Here. No, here, confound you! The Palace.
[_Putting down the receiver._] No, nothing’s been seen of him since
early this morning.
ETCHINGHAM.
I wonder what the other side are going to do when they hear this.
JAMES FORD.
Oh, don’t you be afraid. They heard about the attack as soon as ever we
did.
BENNETT.
You ought to have held the line and prevented them from getting on to
London.
BOYCE.
Good God, one can’t think of everything at once.
ETCHINGHAM.
It seems to me the whole thing has been about as disgracefully
mismanaged as it could be.
BOYCE.
If you’d ever tried to run an election you’d know it wasn’t so easy as
all that.
ETCHINGHAM.
I’m not an election agent. It’s not my business.
JAMES FORD.
Come, come, gentlemen, it’s no good quarrelling about it.
[_These three speeches are spoken at once._
SWALECLIFFE.
How is the polling going on?
BOYCE.
Oh, I think we shall have the heaviest poll we’ve ever had.
JAMES FORD.
Of course there’ll be some slackening off just now. A lot of working men
voted when the polling stations opened.
BOYCE.
There’ll be twice as many at the dinner-hour.
SWALECLIFFE.
You don’t know what the Tories are doing, Colonel?
BOYCE.
I should think I did know. They’re going to set up the article as soon
as it comes in.
ETCHINGHAM.
The whole article?
BOYCE.
The whole confounded thing.
JAMES FORD.
And placard the streets with it. They’ve made arrangements to print off
a thousand, and they’ve got their bill stickers all ready and waiting.
ETCHINGHAM.
It’s infamous.
JAMES FORD.
Nonsense! It’s business. We’d have done the same if we’d had the luck to
get such a stick as this to beat Morrison with the very morning of the
election.
SWALECLIFFE.
The comfort is, they don’t know Morrison and they do know Winter.
JAMES FORD.
That’s the danger, too. They may know him too well.
ETCHINGHAM.
I don’t know what the devil you mean by that. You seem to forget that
you’re speaking of my son-in-law.
JAMES FORD.
Oh, we’re not here to pay one another compliments.
BENNETT.
If you’ll wait a minute or two he’ll be here himself and you can say to
him anything you want to.
BOYCE.
What I can’t make out is why he chose this particular day to bring out
his company.
BENNETT.
He didn’t think the election would take place just yet.
JAMES FORD.
Every one’s been talking of a general election for the last two months.
BENNETT.
You know it was sprung upon us at the end.
SWALECLIFFE.
Couldn’t he have kept the issue back?
ETCHINGHAM.
He’d got everything fixed up by then.
JAMES FORD.
[_Speaking through._] Of course he could. It was only his obstinacy. I
told him it was a bad time to give an American issue to the public.
ETCHINGHAM.
Well, you weren’t obliged to apply for shares, were you?
JAMES FORD.
Tell me something I don’t know next, will you?
ETCHINGHAM.
I can tell you there’s no harm in keeping a civil tongue in your head.
JAMES FORD.
Thank you, I don’t want lessons in manners from you.
BENNETT.
You won’t do yourselves much good by losing your tempers.
SWALECLIFFE.
Why doesn’t Mr. Winter come?
BOYCE.
I dare say he’s sent his car to take some one to the poll and he’s had
to walk.
ETCHINGHAM.
It seems to me that you’ve bungled everything you could.
BOYCE.
I don’t know why the devil you should blame me.
[_A waiter comes in with newspapers on a tray._
BENNETT.
Here they are at last.
[_They crowd round the waiter and take the papers from him. The
waiter goes out._
ETCHINGHAM.
Thank God, now we shall know the worst.
BOYCE.
_The Financial News._
JAMES FORD.
No, that’s got nothing.
BENNETT.
Here it is. _The Financial Standard._
JAMES FORD.
Give it me.
[_He takes the paper from_ BENNETT _and opens it_. ETCHINGHAM
_watches him anxiously_.
SWALECLIFFE.
I wish to goodness I’d never thought of stocks and shares. I knew it was
wrong. Oh, what a punishment!
JAMES FORD.
[_Impatiently._] We can’t all read the paper at once.
BENNETT.
Spread it out on the table. That’s the best way.
[BENNETT _and_ FORD _rapidly run their eyes down the article_.
BENNETT.
Steep, isn’t it?
JAMES FORD.
If the Tories print this it’ll about bust us.
ETCHINGHAM.
The whole thing’s a pack of lies. It’s scandalous that such methods
should be used to influence an election.
JAMES FORD.
[_To_ SWALECLIFFE.] D’you want to read it?
SWALECLIFFE.
What does it say?
BENNETT.
Merely what they phoned down from London.
JAMES FORD.
But it puts it about as hot as I’ve ever seen a financial article.
ETCHINGHAM.
D’you think it’ll interfere with the issue?
JAMES FORD.
It’ll bust it.
ETCHINGHAM.
Can’t something be done to find Winter?
BOYCE.
All we can do is to wait.
ETCHINGHAM.
Hang it all, we can’t go on waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Isn’t
there one of you who can do something?
JAMES FORD.
Keep your head, man, that’s about the best thing you can do.
[EDWARD O’DONNELL _hurries in_.
O’DONNELL.
It’s all right. I’ve got him.
ETCHINGHAM.
Thank God.
O’DONNELL.
I told him to hurry up. He was just going to speak to some fellows in a
factory.
SWALECLIFFE.
He’s coming?
O’DONNELL.
Yes, rather. He said he’d be here in a jiffy.
JAMES FORD.
Did he want to know what it was about?
O’DONNELL.
There was no time for him to ask. And he was talking to a whole crowd
when I found him.
SWALECLIFFE.
He knows it’s important?
BENNETT.
Don’t be afraid about that. If he says he’ll come at once, he’ll come.
BOYCE.
Here he is.
ETCHINGHAM.
[_At the same time._] At last.
[GEORGE WINTER _comes in and surveys them for a moment. He smiles
sardonically._
GEORGE WINTER.
Quite a party.
ETCHINGHAM.
We thought you were never coming.
GEORGE WINTER.
What’s the trouble?
JAMES FORD.
[_Pointing to the paper._] That’s the trouble.
BENNETT.
_The Financial Standard_ has got an attack on the Campo del Oro.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Calmly._] Is that all?
JAMES FORD.
It’s a good deal.
GEORGE WINTER.
The Lewishams have got _The Financial Standard_ in their pockets.
JAMES FORD.
You read it.
SWALECLIFFE.
They say there’s no gold in the mine.
GEORGE WINTER.
What do they know about it? They’ve not been there and my expert has.
JAMES FORD.
That’s just it. They say you’re floating it on the report the owners
gave you when you bought it, and you’re holding back Macdonald’s.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Looking over the article._] It’s extraordinary what a lot the papers
know. [_The telephone rings._] What is it? [_He listens for a moment._]
London call. You’d better go and speak to them, Fred. [_Down the
receiver._] No, don’t connect with me. Mr. Bennett will come along.
[BENNETT _goes out_.] It’s one of my brokers. Now let’s go on. As abuse
I don’t really think very much of it. I could have said much
unpleasanter things about myself.
SWALECLIFFE.
You seem to take it very calmly.
GEORGE WINTER.
I’ve not been fighting the Lewishams for ten years without getting some
pretty hard words broken on my back.
JAMES FORD.
D’you see that bit about where the money came from?
ETCHINGHAM.
I didn’t see that.
GEORGE WINTER.
I’ll read it you, shall I? [_Reading._] “It is stated that Mr. Winter
paid eighty thousand pounds for this precious mine. It would perhaps be
interesting to inquire how he was able to raise such a sum at a time not
only of general stringency, but of peculiar difficulty in the Central
American market. Perhaps Mr. Winter, like King Midas, is able to turn
into gold everything he touches and he may have been able to change his
office furniture into precious metal. Perhaps not.” Childish, isn’t it?
Do they think I’m going to let out my little trade secrets to please
them?
JAMES FORD.
But where did you get the money?
[ETCHINGHAM _gives a slight start, but_ GEORGE WINTER _remains
perfectly cool_.
GEORGE WINTER.
My dear fellow, you don’t suppose I stole it, do you? That’s where the
born financier comes in. He makes money as a conjurer makes a white
rabbit appear out of a silk handkerchief.
JAMES FORD.
[_Drily._] A very satisfactory explanation.
[_For an instant, hardly perceptible to the others, the eyes of_
GEORGE WINTER _and_ JAMES FORD _meet_.
GEORGE WINTER.
But that’s hardly the point, is it?
[_During the rest of the scene_ JAMES FORD _is thinking the matter
over. His eyes rest on_ GEORGE WINTER _as if he were trying to
guess something_.
BOYCE.
Something must be done at once.
GEORGE WINTER.
Have the Tories got hold of it?
BOYCE.
They’re printing the article on posters.
GEORGE WINTER.
Nuisance, isn’t it?
[_He pauses to reflect for a moment._ MR. SWALECLIFFE _breaks in
upon his thoughts_.
SWALECLIFFE.
Is there any truth at all in that article, Mr. Winter?
GEORGE WINTER.
Not a word.
SWALECLIFFE.
It puts me in a very awkward position.
GEORGE WINTER.
What’s the matter with you?
SWALECLIFFE.
I thought the shares would go to a premium before they were issued.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Smiling._] Like the San José tramways, eh?
SWALECLIFFE.
Mr. Ford says this will--bust the issue.
GEORGE WINTER.
Nice of him.... Been having a little gamble, have you?
SWALECLIFFE.
If it was a certainty I didn’t see there could be any harm in it.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_With a chuckle._] Like playing with loaded dice? How many shares have
you applied for?
SWALECLIFFE.
Five hundred.
GEORGE WINTER.
Sporting of you.
SWALECLIFFE.
I didn’t mean to take them up, you understand. I haven’t got more than
five hundred pounds in the world. I thought they were bound to go up
half a crown and....
GEORGE WINTER.
Five hundred half crowns are quite worth having, aren’t they?
SWALECLIFFE.
It’s been a lesson to me. I’ll never do anything like it again. I shan’t
have the chance. If I have to pay for the shares....
GEORGE WINTER.
Get my cheque book, Teddie.
O’DONNELL.
Yes, sir.
SWALECLIFFE.
What are you going to do?
GEORGE WINTER.
I don’t want anyone to come into this concern who doesn’t believe in it.
Make out a cheque for five hundred pounds to Mr. Swalecliffe.
[O’DONNELL _writes out a cheque during the next speeches_.
SWALECLIFFE.
That’s very generous of you.
GEORGE WINTER.
Generous? Not a bit of it. You don’t think I mind having five hundred
shares more, do you?
SWALECLIFFE.
D’you think they’re worth it?
GEORGE WINTER.
They’ll be worth ten pounds a piece in six months, or I’m a Dutchman.
[O’DONNELL _hands him the cheque-book and a pen_. GEORGE WINTER
_signs his name and tears out a cheque_.
JAMES FORD.
[_While he is doing this._] That looks as if you had confidence in the
mine.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Handing the cheque to_ SWALECLIFFE.] Here you are. [_To_ JAMES FORD.]
D’you want me to buy your shares off you?
JAMES FORD.
[_With a quiet smile._] Not just yet, thank you.
SWALECLIFFE.
But what’s the meaning of the article, then?
GEORGE WINTER.
Why, it’s as plain as a pikestaff. The Lewishams were willing to give
their eyes for the mine, but I was too much for them. Now they’re
crabbing it. That’s all.
[_He says this with great assurance, as if it thoroughly explained
the whole thing._
SWALECLIFFE.
But then....
GEORGE WINTER.
Pay that into your bank and hand over the certificate to me when you get
it.
SWALECLIFFE.
D’you think they’ll go to a premium?
GEORGE WINTER.
I’ve no doubt of it. I dare say the five hundred half-crowns will be
just as useful to me as to you. But I shall hold on. I want a bigger
profit than that.
SWALECLIFFE.
But if they’re good enough for you, they’re good enough for me.
GEORGE WINTER.
No, you’ve taken my cheque now. It’s too late.
SWALECLIFFE.
There’s your cheque. You can have it back again. I’m going to keep the
shares.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Good-humouredly._] Well, I don’t mind. It won’t make much difference
to me. But don’t sell them, whatever you read in the papers. What’s a
profit of half a crown? Wait till you’ve got a profit of five pounds,
and then you can think of selling them.
SWALECLIFFE.
[_With a gasp._] Five pounds? That would be two thousand five hundred.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Turning to_ COLONEL BOYCE.] Wait a minute. Get on to Bishop and Jones.
BOYCE.
The printers?
GEORGE WINTER.
We must answer this article. I’ve just been thinking what we’d better
say.
[_He sits down and begins to write, while_ COLONEL BOYCE _goes to
the telephone_.
BOYCE.
What’s their number, d’you know?
JAMES FORD.
703, I think.
BOYCE.
Is that the Exchange? Give me 703, will you? That is Bishop and Jones,
the printers, isn’t it?
GEORGE WINTER.
I’m going to make it hot and strong.
O’DONNELL.
Isn’t there anything I can do?
BOYCE.
Are you Bishop and Jones?
GEORGE WINTER.
Tell them to have everything ready to print off a couple of thousand
posters at once. You’re just coming round in the car.
BOYCE.
Hulloa? Will you get everything ready to print off a couple of thousand
posters at once. I’m just coming round. Colonel Boyce. Yes. That’s it.
GEORGE WINTER.
[_Speaking through_ COLONEL BOYCE’S _instructions to the printers_.]
What d’you think of this, Ford?
JAMES FORD.
Let’s have a look.
GEORGE WINTER.
You see we’ve got the advantage that they have to print a whole article.
And we only need a couple of sentences.
JAMES FORD.
Yes, that seems all right.
ETCHINGHAM.
Couldn’t be better.
GEORGE WINTER.
Make a copy of it, Teddie. Hurry up.
BOYCE.
We haven’t got any time to lose.
GEORGE WINTER.
The car’s at the door.