FRANKLYN. No: I wish he had: any sort of plain speaking is better than the nauseous sham good fellowship our democratic public men get up for shop use. He pretends to believe me, and assures me his visit is quite disinterested; but why should he come if he has no axe to grind? These chaps never believe anything they say themselves; and naturally they cannot believe anything anyone else says. CONRAD [_rising_] Well, I shall clear out. It was hard enough to stand the party politicians before the war; but now that they have managed to half kill Europe between them, I cant be civil to them, and I dont see why I should be. FRANKLYN. Wait a bit. We have to find out how the world will take our new gospel. [_Conrad sits down again_]. Party politicians are still unfortunately an important part of the world. Suppose we try it on Joyce Burge. CONRAD. How can you? You can tell things only to people who can listen. Joyce Burge has talked so much that he has lost the power of listening. He doesnt listen even in the House of Commons. _Savvy rushes in breathless, followed by Haslam, who remains timidly just inside the door._ SAVVY [_running to Franklyn_] I say! Who do you think has just driven up in a big car? FRANKLYN. Mr Joyce Burge, perhaps. SAVVY [_disappointed_] Oh, they know, Bill. Why didnt you tell us he was coming? I have nothing on. HASLAM. I'd better go, hadnt I? CONRAD. You just wait here, both of you. When you start yawning, Joyce Burge will take the hint, perhaps. SAVVY [_to Franklyn_] May we? FRANKLYN. Yes, if you promise to behave yourself. SAVVY [_making a wry face_] That will be a treat, wont it? THE PARLOR MAID [_entering and announcing_] Mr Joyce Burge. _Haslam hastily moves to the fireplace; and the parlor maid goes out and shuts the door when the visitor has passed in._ FRANKLYN [_hurrying past Savvy to his guest with the false cordiality he has just been denouncing_] Oh! Here you are. Delighted to see you. [_He shakes Burge's hand, and introduces Savvy_] My daughter. SAVVY [_not daring to approach_] Very kind of you to come. _Joyce Burge stands fast and says nothing; but he screws up his cheeks into a smile at each introduction, and makes his eyes shine in a very winning manner. He is a well-fed man turned fifty, with broad forehead, and grey hair which, his neck being short, falls almost to his collar._ FRANKLYN. Mr Haslam, our rector. _Burge conveys an impression of shining like a church window; and Haslam seizes the nearest library chair on the hearth, and swings it round for Burge between the stool and Conrad. He then retires to the window seat at the other side of the room, and is joined by Savvy. They sit there, side by side, hunched up with their elbows on their knees and their chins on their hands, providing Burge with a sort of Stranger's Gallery during the ensuing sitting._ FRANKLYN. I forget whether you know my brother Conrad. He is a biologist.