Mrs. G. (_jealously_). She wants to hold you back. She's never had the faith in you that others have. She'd like to tell you now you're not good enough for Parliament only there's too many here to give her the lie. Peter. Mother, mother! Mrs. G. Oh, yes, I dare say, put Margaret first, Margaret who doesn't believe in you, in front of all the rest of us who know Parliament's not good enough for you. It's the House of Lords you should be in. Peter. I hope not so bad as that, mother. O'Cal. We'll be taking a stroll round the houses, and come in again presently. Peter (_turning to them_). No. Don't go. I'll give you my answer now. I've decided. Ned. Well. What is it? Peter. I'll stand. Ned. (_shaking his hand_). Good lad! O'Cal. It's destroyed I am with joy, and me after thinking he wasn't going to stand at all. You'll be elected surely, and we the nearer by another step to that great glittering dawn that's coming to bring peace and happiness to---- Jones. Don't gabble, Denis. We've to work to organize for victory. I'm going to the Club to beat up recruits. Ned. We're all coming, Karl. We're not going into this with our hands in our pockets. Peter (_making for his cap_). Yes. Ned (_stopping him_). Not you, Peter. You've earned a rest to-night. You begin to-morrow. Peter. Rest! I shan't rest till after the election. Jones. You've to keep your strength for the street corners. We'll do the donkey work. Clerking's all some of us are fit for. (_Glancing at O'Callagan._) You can draft your election address if you want something to do. Ned. You'll want every ounce of strength. Ramsden's done us a good turn by resigning in the summer time. They can have every hall in the town and welcome. But open-air speaking night after night--well, look to your lungs. We'll watch the rest. Peter. I'm in your hands. Ned. That's right. Take it easy now. You'll have to sprint at the finish. Now, comrades. (_Opening door, centre._) O'Cal. Good night, all. Jones. Good night. [_Peter holds door open and sees them go, he, Margaret, and Mrs. Garside chorussing "Good night," then he closes the door, and leans against it as if dazed, passing his hand across his forehead._ Peter. My God! It's like a dream. I can't get used to it. Mrs. G. You'll get used to it fast enough. It's always an easy thing to take your natural state in life. You were born to be great. (_Viciously._) However much some folk _'_ud like to keep you down. Peter. Yes. I suppose I shall settle to it. (_Coming to chair right and sitting, Mrs. Garside is to his left, Margaret his right._) In a few days it _'_ull seem matter of fact enough to be Labour candidate for the division. But it hasn't got me that way yet. Margaret, when you set me on to study for my B.A., you little thought it was going to lead to this. Mar. (_slowly_). No. I didn't think it would lead to this. Mrs. G. (_sharply_). And you're not well pleased it has. Some people can't stand the sight of other folk's success.