_The parlor maid goes to the hearthrug to make up the fire. Conrad rises and strolls to the middle of the room, where he stops and looks quizzically down at her._ CONRAD. So you have only one life to live, eh? THE PARLOR MAID [_dropping on her knees in consternation_] I meant no offence, sir. CONRAD. You didn't give any. But you know you could live a devil of a long life if you really wanted to. THE PARLOR MAID [_sitting down on her heels_] Oh, dont say that, sir. It's so unsettling. CONRAD. Why? Have you been thinking about it? THE PARLOR MAID. It would never have come into my head if you hadnt put it there, sir. Me and cook had a look at your book. CONRAD. What! You and cook Had a look At my book! And my niece wouldn't open it! The prophet is without honor in his own family. Well, what do you think of living for several hundred years? Are you going to have a try for it? THE PARLOR MAID. Well, of course youre not in earnest, sir. But it does set one thinking, especially when one is going to be married. CONRAD. What has that to do with it? He may live as long as you, you know. THE PARLOR MAID. Thats just it, sir. You see, he must take me for better for worse, til death do us part. Do you think he would be so ready to do that, sir, if he thought it might be for several hundred years? CONRAD. Thats true. And what about yourself? THE PARLOR MAID. Oh, I tell you straight out, sir, I'd never promise to live with the same man as long as that. I wouldnt put up with my own children as long as that. Why, cook figured it out, sir, that when you were only 200, you might marry your own great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson and not even know who he was. CONRAD. Well, why not? For all you know, the man you are going to marry may be your great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother's great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson. THE PARLOR MAID. But do you think it would ever be thought respectable, sir? CONRAD. My good girl, all biological necessities have to be made respectable whether we like it or not; so you neednt worry yourself about that. _Franklyn returns and crosses the room to his chair, but does not sit down. The parlor maid goes out._ CONRAD. Well, what does Joyce Burge want? FRANKLYN. Oh, a silly misunderstanding. I have promised to address a meeting in Middlesborough; and some fool has put it into the papers that I am 'coming to Middlesborough,' without any explanation. Of course, now that we are on the eve of a general election, political people think I am coming there to contest the parliamentary seat. Burge knows that I have a following, and thinks I could get into the House of Commons and head a group there. So he insists on coming to see me. He is staying with some people at Dollis Hill, and can be here in five or ten minutes, he says. CONRAD. But didn't you tell him that it's a false alarm? FRANKLYN. Of course I did; but he wont believe me. CONRAD. Called you a liar, in fact?