[_Deliberately, but losing himself in his subject as he proceeds._] It shows a vast crowd of men and women, sir, forcing themselves upon public attention without a shred of modesty, fighting to obtain it as if they are fighting for bread and meat. It shows how dignity and reserve have been cast aside as virtues that are antiquated and outworn, until half the world--the world that should be orderly, harmonious, beautiful--has become an arena for the exhibition of vulgar ostentation or almost superhuman egoism--a cockpit resounding with raucous voices bellowing one against the other! SIR RANDLE. [_Closing his eyes._] A terrible picture! LADY FILSON. [_Closing her eyes._] Terrible. PHILIP. It shows the bishop and the judge playing to the gallery, the politician adopting the methods of the cheap-jack, the duchess vying with the puffing draper; it shows how even true genius submits itself to conditions that are accepted and excused as "modern," and is found elbowing and pushing in the hurly-burly. It shows how the ordinary decencies of life are sacrificed to the paragraphist, the interviewer, and the ghoul with the camera; how the home is stripped of its sanctity, blessed charity made a vehicle for display, the very grave-yard transformed into a parade ground; while the outsider looks on with a sinking of the vitals because the drumstick is beyond his reach and the bom-bom-bom is not for him! It shows----! [_Checking himself and leaving the arm-chair with a short laugh._] Oh, well, that's the setting of my story, Sir Randle! I won't inflict the details upon you. SIR RANDLE. Er--h'm--[_expansively_] an excellent theme, Mr. Mackworth; a most promising theme! [_To_ LADY FILSON.] Eh, Winifred? LADY FILSON. [_Politely._] Excellent; quite, quite excellent! PHILIP. [_Bowing to_ LADY FILSON _and going to_ OTTOLINE.] Thank you. OTTOLINE. [_To_ PHILIP, _glowingly_.] Splendid! [_Laying her hand upon his arm._] You have purged your disgrace. [_Softly._] You may come and see me to-morrow. PHILIP. [_To_ OTTOLINE.] Ha, ha----! SIR RANDLE. [_In response to a final bow from_ PHILIP.] Good-bye. LADY FILSON. _Good_-bye. [OTTOLINE _opens the glazed door and_ PHILIP _follows her into the hall. Immediately the door is shut_, LADY FILSON _hurries to_ SIR RANDLE. SIR RANDLE. [_In high spirits._] Winnie----! LADY FILSON. _That_ will never be a popular success, Randle! SIR RANDLE. Never. An offensive book----! LADY FILSON. Ho, ho, ho, ho----! SIR RANDLE.