CANDIDA. Oh, James, you know you'll have an attack of bad conscience to-morrow; and _I_ shall have to suffer for that. LEXY (intimidated, but urgent). I know, of course, that they make the most unreasonable demands on you. But they have been telegraphing all over the place for another speaker: and they can get nobody but the President of the Agnostic League. MORELL (promptly). Well, an excellent man. What better do they want? LEXY. But he always insists so powerfully on the divorce of Socialism from Christianity. He will undo all the good we have been doing. Of course you know best; but--(He hesitates.) CANDIDA (coaxingly). Oh, DO go, James. We'll all go. BURGESS (grumbling). Look 'ere, Candy! I say! Let's stay at home by the fire, comfortable. He won't need to be more'n a couple-o'-hour away. CANDIDA. You'll be just as comfortable at the meeting. We'll all sit on the platform and be great people. EUGENE (terrified). Oh, please don't let us go on the platform. No--everyone will stare at us--I couldn't. I'll sit at the back of the room. CANDIDA. Don't be afraid. They'll be too busy looking at James to notice you. MORELL (turning his head and looking meaningly at her over his shoulder). Prossy's complaint, Candida! Eh? CANDIDA (gaily). Yes. BURGESS (mystified). Prossy's complaint. Wot are you talking about, James? MORELL (not heeding him, rises; goes to the door; and holds it open, shouting in a commanding voice). Miss Garnett. PROSERPINE (in the distance). Yes, Mr. Morell. Coming. (They all wait, except Burgess, who goes stealthily to Lexy and draws him aside.) BURGESS. Listen here, Mr. Mill. Wot's Prossy's complaint? Wot's wrong with 'er? LEXY (confidentially). Well, I don't exactly know; but she spoke very strangely to me this morning. I'm afraid she's a little out of her mind sometimes. BURGESS (overwhelmed). Why, it must be catchin'! Four in the same 'ouse! (He goes back to the hearth, quite lost before the instability of the human intellect in a clergyman's house.) PROSERPINE (appearing on the threshold). What is it, Mr. Morell? MORELL. Telegraph to the Guild of St. Matthew that I am coming. PROSERPINE (surprised). Don't they expect you? MORELL (peremptorily). Do as I tell you. (Proserpine frightened, sits down at her typewriter, and obeys. Morell goes across to Burgess, Candida watching his movements all the time with growing wonder and misgiving.) MORELL. Burgess: you don't want to come? BURGESS (in deprecation). Oh, don't put it like that, James. It's only that it ain't Sunday, you know. MORELL. I'm sorry. I thought you might like to be introduced to the chairman. He's on the Works Committee of the County Council and has some influence in the matter of contracts. (Burgess wakes up at once. Morell, expecting as much, waits a moment, and says) Will you come? BURGESS (with enthusiasm). Course I'll come, James. Ain' it always a pleasure to 'ear you.