FARRANT. Well, what does that care as long as scandal's its own copyright? Do you know, my dear father refused a peerage because he felt it meant putting blinkers on his best newspaper. BLACKBOROUGH. [_A little subtly._] Still ... now you and Horsham are cousins, aren't you? FARRANT. [_Off the track and explanatory._] No, no ... my wife's mother.... BLACKBOROUGH. I'm inaccurate, for I'm not one of the family circle myself. My money gets me here and any skill I've used in making it. It wouldn't keep me at a pinch. And Trebell ... [_He speaks through his teeth._] ... do you think your accession to power in the party is popular at the best? Who is going to put out a finger to make it less awkward for Horsham to stick to you if there's a chance of your going under? TREBELL _smiles at some mental picture he is making._ TREBELL. Can your cousins and aunts make it so awkward for you, Horsham? HORSHAM. [_Repaying humour with humour._] I bear up against their affectionate attentions. TREBELL. But I quite understand how uncongenial I may be. What made you take up with me at all? FARRANT. Your brains, Trebell. TREBELL. He should have enquired into my character first, shouldn't he, Cantelupe? CANTELUPE. [_With crushing sincerity._] Yes. TREBELL. Oh, the old unnecessary choice ... Wisdom or Virtue. We all think we must make it ... and we all discover we can't. But if you've to choose between Cantelupe and me, Horsham, I quite see you've no choice. HORSHAM _now takes the field, using his own weapons._ HORSHAM. Charles, it seems to me that we are somewhat in the position of men who have overheard a private conversation. Do you feel justified in making public use of it? CANTELUPE. It is not I who am judge. God knows I would not sit in judgment upon anyone. TREBELL. Cantelupe, I'll take your personal judgment if you can give it me. FARRANT. Good Lord, Cantelupe, didn't you sit in a cabinet with ... Well, we're not here to rake up old scandals. BLACKBOROUGH. I am concerned with the practical issue. HORSHAM. We know, Blackborough. [_Having quelled the interruption he proceeds._] Charles, you spoke, I think, of a mortal sin. CANTELUPE. In spite of your lifted eyebrows at the childishness of the word. HORSHAM. Theoretically, we must all wish to guide ourselves by eternal truths. But you would admit, wouldn't you, that we can only deal with temporal things? CANTELUPE. [_Writhing slightly under the sceptical cross-examination._] There are divine laws laid down for our guidance ... I admit no disbelief in them. HORSHAM. Do they place any time-limit to the effect of a mortal sin? If this affair were twenty years old would you do as you are doing? Can you forecast the opinion you will have of it six months hence? CANTELUPE. [_Positively._] Yes. HORSHAM. Can you? Nevertheless I wish you had postponed your decision even till to-morrow. _Having made his point he looks round almost for approval._