MRS. CHINN. (_Now shaking hands_.) Quite well, thank you, ma’am. (_She has cast a keen_, _motherly glance at_ ANNYS.) I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma’am. ANNYS. Of course I am. We Politicians owe it to our Party. (_Laughs_.) How are they getting on here, without me? MRS. CHINN. Well, ma’am, from what I can see, I think Mr. Chilvers is trusting a little too much to his merits. Shall I bring some more cups and saucers, sir? GEOFFREY. Ah! yes! (_To_ ANNYS.) You’ll have some tea? ANNYS. Strong, please, Mrs. Chinn. (MRS. CHINN _goes out_.) (_Laughs_.) Yes, I know it’s bad for me. (_She puts a hand over his mouth_.) PHOEBE. Old Mother Chinn is quite right, you know, Geoff. You’re not putting up a good fight. GEOFFREY. (_A slight irritability begins to show itself_.) I frankly confess that I am not used to fighting women. ELIZABETH. Yes. It was easier, no doubt, when we took it lying down. ANNYS. You promised, if I brought you, that you would be good. GEOFFREY. I wish it had been you. PHOEBE. Yes, but we don’t! (_As she and_ ELIZABETH _move away_.) Did you have a row with the doctor when you were born? (_To which_ ELIZABETH _replies_, _though the words reach only_ PHOEBE: “_I might have_, _if I had known that my mother was doing all the work_, _while he was pocketing the fee_!”) LAMB. You see, Mrs. Chilvers, our difficulty is that there is nothing to be said against you—except one thing. ANNYS. What’s that? LAMB. That you’re a woman. ANNYS. (_Smiling_.) Isn’t that enough? SIGSBY. Quite enough, Mrs. Chilvers, if the guv’nor would only say it. ANNYS. (_To_ GEOFFREY.) Why don’t you? I’ll promise not to deny it. (_The others drift apart_. _They group themselves near to the window_. _They talk together—grow evidently interested and excited_.) GEOFFREY. I have just had a letter from your—Election Agent, expressing indignation with one of my supporters for merely having hinted at the fact. ANNYS. I don’t understand. GEOFFREY. (_He takes from the table the letter and hands it to her in silence_. _He seats himself on the settee and watches her_.) ANNYS. (_She seats herself on a chair just opposite to him_; _reads the letter through in silence_.) In my case it does not apply. GEOFFREY. How do you know? ANNYS. (_The atmosphere has grown suddenly oppressive_.) Oh, I—I think we might find some other reason than that. (_She hands him back the letter_.) GEOFFREY. It’s the only one of any importance. It embraces all the others. Shall woman be mother—or politician? (_He puts the letter in his pocket_.) ANNYS. Why cannot she be both? GEOFFREY. (_He is looking at her searchingly_.) Because if she is the one, she doesn’t want to be the other. (_A silence_.) ANNYS. You are wrong. It is the mother instinct that makes us politicians. We want to take care of the world.