THE ORDERLY (arguing, as usual). Well, I didnt ask to--(Mitchener seizes him by the nape; rushes him out; and slams the door). MITCHENER. Excuse the abruptness of this communication, Mrs. Farrell; but I know only one woman in the country whose practical ability and force of character can maintain her husband in competition with the husband of Mrs. Banger. I have the honor to propose for your hand. MRS. FARRELL. Dye mean you want to marry me? MITCHENER. I do. MRS. FARRELL. No thank you. Id have to work for you just the same; only I shouldnt get any wages for it. BALSQUITH. That will be remedied when women get the vote. Ive had to promise that. MITCHENER (winningly). Mrs. Farrell: you have been charwoman here now ever since I took up my duties. Have you really never, in your more romantic moments, cast a favorable eye on my person? MRS. FARRELL. Ive been too busy casting an unfavorable eye on your cloze and on the litther you make with your papers. MITCHENER (wounded). Am I to understand that you refuse me? MRS. FARRELL. Just wait a bit. (She takes Mitchener's chair and rings up the telephone.) Double three oh seven Elephant. MITCHENER. I trust youre not ringing for the police, Mrs. Farrell. I assure you Im perfectly sane. MRS. FARRELL (into the telephone). Is that you, Eliza? (She listens for the answer.) Not out of bed yet! Go and pull her out by the heels, the lazy sthreel; and tell her her mother wants to speak to her very particularly about General Mitchener. (To Mitchener.) Dont you be afeard: I know youre sane enough when youre not talkin about the Germans. (Into the telephone.) Is that you, Eliza? (She listens for the answer.) Dye remember me givin you a clout on the side of the head for tellin me that if I only knew how to play me cards I could marry any general on the staff instead o disgracin you be bein a charwoman? (She listens for the answer.) Well, I can have General Mitchener without playing any cards at all. What dye think I ought to say? (She listens.) Well, Im no chicken myself. (To Mitchener.) How old are you? MITCHENER (with an effort). Fifty-two. MRS. FARRELL (into the telephone). He says hes fifty-two. (She listens; then, to Mitchener.) She says youre down in Who's Who as sixty-one. MITCHENER. Damn Who's Who. MRS. FARRELL (into the telephone). Anyhow I wouldnt let that stand in the way. (She listens.) If I really WHAT? (She listens.)I cant hear you. If I really WHAT? (She listens.) WHO druv him? I never said a word to-- Eh? (She listens.) Oh, LOVE him. Arra dont be a fool, child. (To Mitchener.) She wants to know do I really love you.(Into the telephone.) Its likely indeed Id frighten the man off with any such nonsense, at my age. What? (She listens.) Well, thats just what I was thinkin. MITCHENER. May I ask what you were thinking, Mrs. Farrell? This suspense is awful.