_A cheerful voice, singing a song without words, is heard outside, and the GREAT ONE comes in. He is wearing the old sombrero—the Broxopp hat—and (a novelty this) a pale grey tail-coat and trousers. He carries two or three parcels in his hand._) BROXOPP. Nancy! NANCY (_jumping up_). Jim! BROXOPP. My darling! Just wait a moment till I put down these parcels.... Now then! (_He holds out his arms and she comes to him. After he has kissed her, he says solemnly_) I’ve thanked Heaven every day since we’ve been here that I can kiss you now without being observed by butlers. Another one! (_He kisses her again, and then holds her at arms’ length_) All right? NANCY. Of course I am. BROXOPP (_taking off his hat_). I met Sir Roger just outside. NANCY. Did you speak to him? BROXOPP. I said “Hallo!” and he said, “Ah, Chillingham, Chillingham!” Has he been here? NANCY. Just to ask after Iris and (_smiling_) to say how glad he was that you were making your fortune again. BROXOPP. Did you tell him that I was making my fortune again? NANCY. He told himself. I didn’t say anything. BROXOPP. Well, it’s true. I’m going to. And what have _you_ been doing? NANCY. Shopping. And—(_looking rather sadly at her drawing_)—and Ajax. (_She sits down to it again._) BROXOPP. Ajax? NANCY. Ajax defying the lightning. BROXOPP (_pleased_). Ah, that was a good idea, wasn’t it? (_Declaiming_) “Ajax defied the lightning. Why? Because he knew that he was insured against fire with the West End Insurance Company.” (_Going over to her work_) Have you been doing that for me? NANCY. Yes, darling, but I can’t get Ajax properly. He doesn’t look as though he’s defying anything. BROXOPP (_looking at Ajax_). No, he doesn’t, does he? Yet what a touch you had with suspenders in the old days! NANCY (_sadly_). I think suspenders must be easier than Ajaxes—unless, perhaps, it’s because I’m getting old. BROXOPP (_indignantly_). Old? You get younger every day. NANCY. Of course, in a way it’s fun beginning all over again—— BROXOPP. Fun! It’s Life! Did you ever hear of a man called Stephenson? He invented the first steam-engine. He said, “To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.” Just what I’ve always said myself. Going there is better fun than getting there. We got there once, Nancy, and now we are going there again. NANCY. But we’re twenty-five years older. BROXOPP. And twenty-five years wiser, and twenty-five years more in love with each other. NANCY. Yes, but what I’m rather afraid of is that we’ve had—well, fifteen years of _spending_ money, and—— BROXOPP. You needn’t be afraid. We’re going to have money to spend again. But we’ll have the fun of making it again first. (_With an air_) Madam, you see before you The Great Chillingham!... (_A little hurt_) You don’t say anything. NANCY (_at her drawing again_). Darling! (_But how she would have flown to him twenty-five years ago!_)