Ste. (_interrupting_). I'll tell you what the Polygon, is. Walter (_quietly_). It's my home, Mr. Verity. Ste. (_with gusto_). Yes, it's the home of the leisured and privileged class of Carrington. It's five big houses with a kind of a square of tennis lawn in the middle of them and a great big garden behind each. It's the only apology for a breathing space we have and it's bang in the middle of the town. You've got great gates to it marked "private" and a lodge keeper to watch 'em and see none of the common herd get in to soil your sacred air by breathing it in their vulgar lungs. It's a shame and a scandal for the land to be wasted on you and it's not going to be wasted much longer. Walter (_without passion_). To the people who live there, it's----- Ste. (_interrupting_). They're about twenty all told. Who are they to get in the way of the thousands that live crowded up like rabbits outside? Walter. They happen to be able to afford it, Mr. Verity. Ste. (_sarcastically_). Yes. They're well-to-do, so they've the right to monopolize the air. Walter (_mildly_). Yes, yes. But you do put things so violently. Ste. (_glancing at Jim for approval_). I feel 'em violently. Walter (_half apologetically_). You must remember this is quite a new idea to me, and for the moment it seems iconoclastic, if you don't mind my saying so. Ste. (_sneering_). Yes. Like all your class, you don't like new ideas. I'll say nothing about your Church, though that don't like new things either. (_Jim rises._) Walter. If you'll only give me a moment to think, Mr. Verity.... I'm trying my best to see the matter from your standpoint. Meantime, I don't know that you'll improve things by fulminating against the Church. Ste. (_blustering_). I shan't do myself any good by truckling to it, either. The Church was here before I was. It was here when Carrington was a little village and it's stood by and let the place grow into one huge slum. If we waited for the Church to give us a lead, we'd wait for all eternity. Walter (_smiling_). But you're not addressing the Church, you know. You're addressing a young and humble member of it. Ste. You're all tarred with the same brush. Walter. Not so black as our cloth, I hope. Some of us younger men try to be social reformers. Ste. Yes. It's all very pretty and romantic, but when it comes to anything that touches you personally like this does you're as bad as the greediest tithe grabbing pluralist that ever robbed a starving farmer of his---- Jim (_touching Stephen's arm_). Mr. Verity, I'm a man that's slow to anger. But I've this to tell you. Mr. Montgomery's a clergyman and you're saying things to him that aren't proper to be said and that I'll hot have said in my room. (_Shrewdly._) And you're not going the right way to get my vote for your recreation ground either. . Ste. (_alarmed_). I apologize, Pilling. (_Rises._) Jim (_satisfied_). Ah!