JOHN (_with condescension_). Not specially. Since one of the old boys came and did looping the loop stunts over the school the whole Fifth has gone mad on the R.F.C. Most fellows are just like sheep. _Somebody_ in the Sixth has to be original. I want to fight as much as any chap with wings across his chest, but I've got my private career to think of too. If you ask me, the mater's had a brain-wave for once. _Enter_ Mr. Culver, _back. He stands a moment at the door, surveying the scene_. Mrs. Culver _springs up, and_ Tranto _also rises, moving towards the door_. MRS. CULVER. Arthur, have you come? CULVER (_advancing a little_). Apparently. Hello, Tranto, glad to see you. I wanted to. (_Shakes hands with_ Tranto.) MRS. CULVER. What's the matter, Arthur? CULVER. Everything. MRS. CULVER (_alarmed, but carefully coaxing_). Why are you wearing your velvet coat? (_To_ Tranto.) He always puts on his velvet coat instead of dressing when something's gone wrong. (_To_ Mr. Culver.) Have you got neuralgia again? CULVER. I don't think so. MRS. CULVER. But surely you must know! You look terribly pale. CULVER. The effect of the velvet coat, my dear--nicely calculated in advance. MRS. CULVER (_darting at him, holding him by the shoulders, and then kissing him violently. With an intonation of affectionate protest_). Darling! JOHN. Oh! I say, mater, look here! MRS. CULVER (_to_ Culver, _still holding him_). I'm very annoyed with you. It's perfectly absurd the way you work. (_To_ Tranto.) Do you know he was at the office all day Christmas Day and all day Boxing Day? (_To_ Culver.) You really must take a holiday. CULVER. But what about the war, darling? MRS. CULVER (_loosing him_). Oh! You're always making the war an excuse. I know what I shall do. I shall just go-- CULVER. Yes, darling, just go and suggest a short armistice to the Germans while you take me to Brighton for a week's fondling. MRS. CULVER. I shall just speak to Miss Starkey. Strange that the wife, in order to influence the husband, should have to appeal to (_disdainfully_) the lady secretary! But so it is. CULVER. Hermione, I must beg you not to interfere between Miss Starkey and me. Interference will upset Miss Starkey, and I cannot stand her being upset. I depend upon her absolutely. First, Miss Starkey is the rock upon which my official existence is built. She is a serious and conscientious rock. She is hard and expects me to be hard. Secondly, Miss Starkey is the cushion between me and the world. She knows my tender spots, and protects them. Thirdly, Miss Starkey is my rod--and I kiss it. MRS. CULVER. Arthur!... (_tries to be agreeable_). But I really am vexed. CULVER. Well, I'm only hungry. _Enter_ Parlourmaid. PARLOURMAID. Cook's compliments, madam, and dinner will be twenty minutes late. (_Exit_.) (_A shocked silence_.) CULVER (_with an exhausted sigh_). And yet I gave that cook one of my most captivating smiles this morning.