[MARTIN _pours himself tea_. KEN _squints at posters,_ LAURA _munches sandwich and giggles_.] Comrade Martin--bring on your material dialectics. [_Before_ MARTIN _has chance to answer_, TIPPY'S _voice sings stridently, as he comes marching in._] TIPPY. Belaya armeya chornee barone Snova gotovyat nam tsarskee trone [_He is now in. A towel is tied about his head with a big blotch of red ink over his temple. He carries a broom as a flagstaff to which a red bandanna handkerchief is attached as a red flag._] No ot tigee do bretanskeye morye Armeya krasnaya vsekh seelnaye. [_On chorus_, MARTIN'S _better voice cuts in strong. He seizes_ LAURA _by the arm, forcing her to march with_ TIPPY. _And_ KEN, _beating time with goose step, also sings._] ALL. Tak poost Zheh krasnaya Shumayet vlasno Svoe shtik mozoleestoy rookoy Es vse dolshnee mwee Neudersheemo Ette v poslednee sharkee boy. [_This chorus repeats._] [_The_ BISHOP _has appeared in the open doorway; they do not see him and march and sing lustily_, BISHOP HOLDEN _stands and watches them in growing consternation. They see him and stop suddenly. Only_ MARTIN'S _voice finishes the last line._] LAURA. Bishop Holden! BISHOP. What is this? KEN. Hello, Dad. TIPPY. Just a bit of fun. [_He tosses the broom with its flag into a corner, but has forgotten to take off bandage. He steps up and offers his hand to the Bishop._] How are you, sir? BISHOP. [_Shaking hands._] What is the matter with your head? TIPPY. Oh Jesus! [_Yanks off towel._] BISHOP. Were you rehearsing for a theatrical? TIPPY. Full dress. My wound was dressed with red ink. BISHOP. And that song you were singing? I couldn't quite place it. MARTIN. That's a Red Army song. BISHOP. Red Army? MARTIN. Soviet--Russian. BISHOP. So you were all engaged in a little burlesque? Sorry to have disturbed you. MARTIN. Tippy was making it burlesque. He refuses to take anything seriously. BISHOP. And the--uh--occasion? MARTIN. The occasion was that I had just brought home those posters. BISHOP. [_Looking at the posters._] Ah, I see. MARTIN. How do you like them? BISHOP. The lettering has some Greek characters. I take it that is Russian? KEN. Of course, dad. They're Soviet posters.--A rather distinctive form of art. BISHOP. Ah, it is the unique art and the martial music you find entertaining--or were you burlesquing a Communist meeting? KEN. It was just Tippy's idea of fun. BISHOP. [_Not quite satisfied._] But you were all singing that song as if you know it well. LAURA. Martin's always singing it--till we've memorized it without the least idea what it means. BISHOP. [_Satisfied._] Ah yes, of course. I once learned a Japanese song. MARTIN. I'm studying Russian. KEN. It's quite a language, dad. It would be easy for you with your knowledge of Greek. BISHOP. Are you studying Russian, too?