Stephen, who is quite close to it, looks at it rather scaredly, and moves away quickly to the cannon. At the same moment the door of the shed is thrown abruptly open; and a foreman in overalls and list slippers comes out on the little landing and holds the door open for Lomax, who appears in the doorway. LOMAX [with studied coolness] My good fellow: you needn't get into a state of nerves. Nothing's going to happen to you; and I suppose it wouldn't be the end of the world if anything did. A little bit of British pluck is what you want, old chap. [He descends and strolls across to Sarah]. UNDERSHAFT [to the foreman] Anything wrong, Bilton? BILTON [with ironic calm] Gentleman walked into the high explosives shed and lit a cigaret, sir: that's all. UNDERSHAFT. Ah, quite so. [To Lomax] Do you happen to remember what you did with the match? LOMAX. Oh come! I'm not a fool. I took jolly good care to blow it out before I chucked it away. BILTON. The top of it was red hot inside, sir. LOMAX. Well, suppose it was! I didn't chuck it into any of your messes. UNDERSHAFT. Think no more of it, Mr Lomax. By the way, would you mind lending me your matches? LOMAX [offering his box] Certainly. UNDERSHAFT. Thanks. [He pockets the matches]. LOMAX [lecturing to the company generally] You know, these high explosives don't go off like gunpowder, except when they're in a gun. When they're spread loose, you can put a match to them without the least risk: they just burn quietly like a bit of paper. [Warming to the scientific interest of the subject] Did you know that Undershaft? Have you ever tried? UNDERSHAFT. Not on a large scale, Mr Lomax. Bilton will give you a sample of gun cotton when you are leaving if you ask him. You can experiment with it at home. [Bilton looks puzzled]. SARAH. Bilton will do nothing of the sort, papa. I suppose it's your business to blow up the Russians and Japs; but you might really stop short of blowing up poor Cholly. [Bilton gives it up and retires into the shed]. LOMAX. My ownest, there is no danger. [He sits beside her on the shell]. Lady Britomart arrives from the town with a bouquet. LADY BRITOMART [coming impetuously between Undershaft and the deck chair] Andrew: you shouldn't have let me see this place. UNDERSHAFT. Why, my dear? LADY BRITOMART. Never mind why: you shouldn't have: that's all. To think of all that [indicating the town] being yours! and that you have kept it to yourself all these years! UNDERSHAFT. It does not belong to me. I belong to it. It is the Undershaft inheritance. LADY BRITOMART. It is not. Your ridiculous cannons and that noisy banging foundry may be the Undershaft inheritance; but all that plate and linen, all that furniture and those houses and orchards and gardens belong to us. They belong to me: they are not a man's business. I won't give them up. You must be out of your senses to throw them all away; and if you persist in such folly, I will call in a doctor.