Walter (_to Vining, crossing above sofa c._). You heard that. Won't you wait? Wait till Verity's been. You'll catch the same post. Vin. (_pause_). Give me the letter, Pilling, I'll keep it back a little. Pilling. Yes, sir.. (_Exit Pilling, c._) Walter. Thank you, Mr. Vining. (_Maid announces Mr. Verity. Maid withdraws Stephen is dressed as Act II, and very sure of himself, except at odd moments._) Vin. (_patronisingly_). Ah, Mr. Verity. Pleased to see you. (_Advancing._) Ste. (_up R. c., shaking hands; very formally_). How do you do? Vin. You know us all, I think? Ste. (_dryly_). By sight. Vin. (_hurriedly_). Yes. Sit down, won't you? (_Sits above fire._) (_Stephen does so, uncomfortably, c. Walter stands R. end of settee._) Now come to business, Mr. Verity. Ste. Yes? Vin. What we want to see you about is this confounded rumour of the Polygon's being up for sale for building lots. No doubt you've heard it? Ste. I've heard tell of it. Vin. Have you thought about it at all? Ste. I've thought a lot. Mont. Well, what do you think, Mr. Verity? Could anything be more absurd? Ste. (_nodding his head towards Walter_). Ask him. He knows what I think. Walter. Mr. Verity's of my opinion, father. Vin. We don't want your opinion, sir. You're full up with all sorts of idiotic modern sentimentalism about the poor. It all comes of the Church meddling with secular matters instead of minding its own business. Mr. Verity's a man of sense. Ste. Thank you; but I don't know that I can do anything. Mrs. M. (_sweetly_). Oh, but I'm sure you can, Mr. Verity. You've such influence in the town. You're a man of weight. Ste. If I am, madam, what had the town to do with Sir Charles selling the Polygon? Mont. How can the town get on without the Polygon? Mrs. M. I'm sure you, as an architect, Mr. Verity, must feel the importance of preserving such fine examples as these are of old Georgian mansions. Mrs. V. So many links with the historic past. Vin. (_impatiently_). It 'ud be a blue ruin for the town. Mont. Sheer catastrophe. You're a leading personage here, Mr. Verity--alderman and so on. Of course you have the interest of the town at heart. Ste. (_with faint irony_). As much as you have yourselves, I dare say. Vin. (_recovering first from the slight general embarrassment_). Er, yes. Now, don't you think a petition from the Town Council to Sir Charles might do the trick? You see, the Polygon's the backbone of the place. I can't for the life of me imagine what Sir Charles is thinking of. Ste. The price. Mrs. V. Now, that's ungenerous of you, Mr. Verity. Sir Charles would never be so selfish. Ste. (_stolidly_). Think not? Mrs. V. He wouldn't turn us out for money. (_Vining and Montgomery are not so sure._) Ste. It's hard times for the rich. Mont. (_timidly_). Yes, I suppose it is. Ste. (_with aggression_). It is. I know. I'm rich.