STEPHEN [actually smiling, and putting his hand on his father's shoulder with indulgent patronage] Really, my dear father, it is impossible to be angry with you. You don't know how absurd all this sounds to ME. You are very properly proud of having been industrious enough to make money; and it is greatly to your credit that you have made so much of it. But it has kept you in circles where you are valued for your money and deferred to for it, instead of in the doubtless very oldfashioned and behind-the-times public school and university where I formed my habits of mind. It is natural for you to think that money governs England; but you must allow me to think I know better. UNDERSHAFT. And what does govern England, pray? STEPHEN. Character, father, character. UNDERSHAFT. Whose character? Yours or mine? STEPHEN. Neither yours nor mine, father, but the best elements in the English national character. UNDERSHAFT. Stephen: I've found your profession for you. You're a born journalist. I'll start you with a hightoned weekly review. There! Stephen goes to the smaller writing table and busies himself with his letters. Sarah, Barbara, Lomax, and Cusins come in ready for walking. Barbara crosses the room to the window and looks out. Cusins drifts amiably to the armchair, and Lomax remains near the door, whilst Sarah comes to her mother. SARAH. Go and get ready, mamma: the carriage is waiting. [Lady Britomart leaves the room.] UNDERSHAFT [to Sarah] Good day, my dear. Good afternoon, Mr. Lomax. LOMAX [vaguely] Ahdedoo. UNDERSHAFT [to Cusins] quite well after last night, Euripides, eh? CUSINS. As well as can be expected. UNDERSHAFT. That's right. [To Barbara] So you are coming to see my death and devastation factory, Barbara? BARBARA [at the window] You came yesterday to see my salvation factory. I promised you a return visit. LOMAX [coming forward between Sarah and Undershaft] You'll find it awfully interesting. I've been through the Woolwich Arsenal; and it gives you a ripping feeling of security, you know, to think of the lot of beggars we could kill if it came to fighting. [To Undershaft, with sudden solemnity] Still, it must be rather an awful reflection for you, from the religious point of view as it were. You're getting on, you know, and all that. SARAH. You don't mind Cholly's imbecility, papa, do you? LOMAX [much taken aback] Oh I say! UNDERSHAFT. Mr Lomax looks at the matter in a very proper spirit, my dear. LOMAX. Just so. That's all I meant, I assure you. SARAH. Are you coming, Stephen? STEPHEN. Well, I am rather busy--er-- [Magnanimously] Oh well, yes: I'll come. That is, if there is room for me. UNDERSHAFT. I can take two with me in a little motor I am experimenting with for field use. You won't mind its being rather unfashionable. It's not painted yet; but it's bullet proof. LOMAX [appalled at the prospect of confronting Wilton Crescent in an unpainted motor] Oh I say!