THE GENERAL. I'm not cross, only wounded, Lesbia. And when you talk like that, I dont feel convinced: I only feel utterly at a loss. LESBIA. Well, you know our family rule. When at a loss consult the greengrocer. [Opportunely Collins comes in through the tower]. Here he is. COLLINS. Sorry to be so much in and out, Miss. I thought Mrs Bridgenorth was here. The table is ready now for the breakfast, if she would like to see it. LESBIA. If you are satisfied, Collins, I am sure she will be. THE GENERAL. By the way, Collins: I thought theyd made you an alderman. COLLINS. So they have, General. THE GENERAL. Then wheres your gown? COLLINS. I dont wear it in private life, General. THE GENERAL. Why? Are you ashamed of it? COLLINS. No, General. To tell you the truth, I take a pride in it. I cant help it. THE GENERAL. Attention, Collins. Come here. [Collins comes to him]. Do you see my uniform--all my medals? COLLINS. Yes, General. They strike the eye, as it were. THE GENERAL. They are meant to. Very well. Now you know, dont you, that your services to the community as a greengrocer are as important and as dignified as mine as a soldier? COLLINS. I'm sure it's very honorable of you to say so, General. THE GENERAL [emphatically] You know also, dont you, that any man who can see anything ridiculous, or unmanly, or unbecoming in your work or in your civic robes is not a gentleman, but a jumping, bounding, snorting cad? COLLINS. Well, strictly between ourselves, that is my opinion, General. THE GENERAL. Then why not dignify my niece's wedding by wearing your robes? COLLINS. A bargain's a bargain, General. Mrs Bridgenorth sent for the greengrocer, not for the alderman. It's just as unpleasant to get more than you bargain for as to get less. THE GENERAL. I'm sure she will agree with me. I attach importance to this as an affirmation of solidarity in the service of the community. The Bishop's apron, my uniform, your robes: the Church, the Army, and the Municipality. COLLINS [retiring] Very well, General. [He turns dubiously to Lesbia on his way to the tower]. I wonder what my wife will say, Miss? THE GENERAL. What! Is your, wife ashamed of your robes? COLLINS. No, sir, not ashamed of them. But she grudged the money for them; and she will be afraid of my sleeves getting into the gravy. Mrs Bridgenorth, her placidity quite upset, comes in with a letter; hurries past Collins; and comes between Lesbia and the General. MRS BRIDGENORTH. Lesbia: Boxer: heres a pretty mess! Collins goes out discreetly. THE GENERAL. Whats the matter? MRS BRIDGENORTH. Reginald's in London, and wants to come to the wedding. THE GENERAL [stupended] Well, dash my buttons! LESBIA. Oh, all right, let him come.