_Pilliner._ I see you've been punishing him for not happening to be a distinguished poet. I thought _he_ was to have been the fortunate man? _Miss Spelwane._ So he was; but they changed it all at the last moment; it really was rather provoking. I _could_ have talked to _him_. _Pilliner._ Lady Rhoda appears to be consoling him. Poor dear old Archie's face is quite a study. But really I don't see that his poetry is so very wonderful; no more did _you_ this morning! _Miss Spelwane._ Because you deliberately picked out the worst bits, and read them as badly as you could! _Pilliner._ Ah, well, he's here to read them for himself now. I dare say he'd be delighted to be asked. _Miss Spelwane._ Do you know, Bertie, that's rather a good idea of yours. I'll ask him to read us something to-night. _Pilliner_ (_aghast_). To-night! With all these people here? I say, they'll never _stand_ it, you know. [Lady CULVERIN _gives the signal_. _Miss Spelwane_ (_as she rises_). They ought to feel it an immense privilege. I know _I_ shall. _The Bishop_ (_to himself, as he rises_). Port in sight--at last! But, oh, _what_ I have had to suffer! _Lady Cantire_ (_at parting_). Well, we've had quite one of our old discussions. I always enjoy talking to _you_, Bishop. But I haven't _yet_ got at your reasons for voting as you did on the Parish Councils Bill; we must go into that upstairs. _The Bishop_ (_with strict veracity_). I shall be--ah--all impatience, Lady Cantire. (_To himself._) I fervently trust that a repetition of this experience may yet be spared me! [Illustration: "I SHALL BE--AH--ALL IMPATIENCE, LADY CANTIRE."] _Lady Rhoda_ (_as she leaves_ SPURRELL). You will tell me the name of the stuff upstairs, won't you? So very much ta! _Archie_ (_to himself_). I'd like to tar him very much, and feather him too, for cuttin' me out like this! (_The men sit down_; SPURRELL _finds himself between_ ARCHIE _and_ Captain THICKNESSE, _at the further end of the table_; ARCHIE _passes the wine to_ SPURRELL _with a scowl_.) What are you drinkin'? Claret? What do you do your writin' on, now, as a general thing? _Spurrell_ (_on the defensive_). On paper, sir, when I've any to do. Do you do yours on a _slate_? _Captain Thicknesse._ I say, that's rather good. Had you there, Bearpark! _Spurrell_ (_to_ ARCHIE, _lowering his voice_). Look here, I see you're trying to put a spoke in my wheel. You saw me writing at dinner, and went and told that young lady I was going to take everything off there and then, which you must have known I wasn't likely to do. Now, sir, it's no business of yours that I can see; but, as you seem to be interested, I may tell you that I shall go up and do it in my own room, as soon as I leave this table, and there will be no fuss or publicity about it whatever. I hope you're satisfied now? _Archie._ Oh, _I_'m satisfied. (_He rises._) Left my cigarette-case upstairs--horrid bore--must go and get it.