[_After a little pause._] It would just about break me up. Politics are my whole life. I can’t imagine existence without the House of Commons. And I have so much to do. If they’ll only give me a chance I want to.... [_Suddenly stopping himself._] But, good heavens, I’m just going to make a speech. CATHERINE. Oh, my dear, I’m so proud of you. I admire you so enormously. COLBY. [_Gaily._] Not yet. Hang it all, wait to admire me till I’m Minister of War. CATHERINE. [_With an affectionate smile._] You dear.... Now you must go. I’ve got ever so much to do, and I’m sure you ought to have. COLBY. Good-bye, then. God bless you.... Say something nice to me before I leave you. CATHERINE. I shall think of you all day long. COLBY. Thank you. Good-bye. [_He goes out._ CATHERINE _sinks exhausted into a chair, but she hears_ GEORGE WINTER _approach and pulls herself together. He comes in with_ ETCHINGHAM. GEORGE WINTER. The great man has taken his hook? [CATHERINE _acknowledges his remark with a look, but does not answer_. GEORGE WINTER. I heard his fairy footsteps on the stairs. ETCHINGHAM. Well, Catherine, I hope you’ve thought better of things. GEORGE WINTER. Well? [_He looks at her with malicious amusement, and she, her head thrown back, stares at him with hatred and anger._ CATHERINE. You think every man is a rogue, don’t you? GEORGE WINTER. Certainly not. I think nine men out of ten are rogues or fools. That’s why I make money. CATHERINE. And what’ll you do when you come across the tenth man, who’s neither rogue nor fool? GEORGE WINTER. [_Flippantly._] Put him under a glass case. CATHERINE. You may find him awkward to deal with. Take care. GEORGE WINTER. I shall. But I’ve looked for him so long that I can’t help thinking he doesn’t move in my set.... Now and then I’ve thought I’d really got him. But while I was scratching my head and wondering how the deuce I was going to manage, I’ve seen an itching palm steal softly out, and I knew it wasn’t the tenth man after all. _The_ BUTLER _comes in_. THOMPSON. [_To_ GEORGE WINTER.] Mr. Bennett would like to speak to you, sir. GEORGE WINTER. Is he on the telephone? THOMPSON. No, sir. He’s here. ETCHINGHAM. What the deuce can he want? GEORGE WINTER. I’ll come down to him. ETCHINGHAM. No, let him come up. Perhaps it’s something important, and he’ll want to see me too. GEORGE WINTER. [_Drily._] Perhaps. Tell him to come up. THOMPSON. Very good, sir. [_Exit._ CATHERINE. Who is Mr. Bennett? ETCHINGHAM. He’s the secretary of two or three of our companies. He manages the office and that sort of thing. GEORGE WINTER. He does all the work for which your father gets fees. ETCHINGHAM. I don’t know about that. I flatter myself I’m worth my salt.