JACK. Iris Tenterden. (_But he can’t help being self-conscious about it._) BROXOPP (_eagerly_). My dearest Jack! So that’s what you’ve been trying to get out all this time! (_He comes forward with both hands held out_) But I’m delighted! JACK (_more moved than he cares to show_). Thanks, Dad! BROXOPP (_pulling himself up humorously_). Tut, tut, I was forgetting. (_Formally_) May I congratulate you, Mr. Broxopp? JACK (_smiling_). Silly old ass! BROXOPP (_sitting on the sofa with him_). But this is wonderful news. Why aren’t you more excited? (_Apologetically_) I mean as excited as Eton and Oxford will permit? JACK. You do like her? BROXOPP. Certainly. She has a way of—a way of——Well, I can’t put it into words, Jack, but she’s the only one of your friends who has told me frankly that she doesn’t like my tie. The others try to convey the impression that I’m not wearing a tie at all—that I am in Holy Orders, or if not in Holy Orders, have a very large beard which—— (_He indicates with his hand how such a beard would completely cover his tie._) JACK. Well, but your tie is a bit—well, _you_ know, I mean frankly, isn’t it? BROXOPP (_smiling_). Yes, but so am I a bit—well, _you_ know, I mean frankly, isn’t it? If I hadn’t been, you would never have gone to Eton and Oxford. But don’t think I don’t like Iris. I do—immensely. Well, if you’re as happy together as Nancy and I have been, you’ll do. Twenty-five years, Jack, and I always say that—— JACK. Good old Dad. She’s a ripper, isn’t she? BROXOPP. She’ll do you a lot of good. But tell me more about it. When did you first discover that she was—a ripper? JACK. Oh, months ago, but we only fixed it up at that dance last night. I pushed round this morning to see Sir Roger and talk things over. He’s coming round for a pow-wow directly. BROXOPP. My boy married! And it seems only yesterday that your mother and I were just beginning to keep house together, and there was no Jack at all. JACK. Well, of course, it seems longer ago than that to me. BROXOPP (_looking at the picture_). “I am a Broxopp baby, are you?” Perhaps one of these days there may be—— JACK. Steady on, Dad. You’re not going to talk to Iris like that, I hope. BROXOPP (_with a laugh_). I shall be strictly proper and respectable, my boy. Not a word shall escape my lips of which you would disapprove. JACK. You know what I mean. When a young girl has only just got engaged, you don’t want to start talking about—— BROXOPP. Say no more. And so Sir Roger is coming round too, is he? JACK. Yes. BROXOPP. What does _he_ say about it? JACK (_knowing that it’s got to come now_). Well, that’s just it. You see Iris and I—I mean he and I—well, of course I always thought so—I mean I don’t want you to think that Iris—though naturally she agrees with me—well, we think, I mean I think—oh, thank the Lord—here _is_ Iris.