JOHN. ‘I call upon the Front Bench, sir, loyally but firmly’-- COMTESSE. Firm again! JOHN. --‘either to accept my Bill, or to promise WITHOUT DELAY to bring in one of their own; and if they decline to do so I solemnly warn them that though I will not press the matter to a division just now’-- COMTESSE. Ahem! JOHN. ‘I will bring it forward again in the near future.’ And now Comtesse, you know that I’m not going to divide--and not another soul knows it. COMTESSE. I am indeed flattered by your confidence. JOHN. I’ve only told you because I don’t care who knows now. COMTESSE. Oh! [Somehow MAGGIE seems to be dissatisfied.] MAGGIE. But why is that, John? JOHN. I daren’t keep the Government in doubt any longer about what I mean to do. I’ll show the whips the speech privately to-night. MAGGIE [who still wants to know]. But not to go to a division is hedging, isn’t it? Is that strong? JOHN. To make the speech at all, Maggie, is stronger than most would dare. They would do for me if I went to a division. MAGGIE. Bark but not bite? JOHN. Now, now, Maggie, you’re out of your depth. MAGGIE. I suppose that’s it. [The COMTESSE remains in the shallows.] COMTESSE. But what will the ladies say, Mr. Shand? JOHN. They won’t like it, Comtesse, but they’ve got to lump it. [Here the maid appears with a card for MAGGIE, who considers it quietly.] JOHN. Any one of importance? MAGGIE. No. JOHN. Then I’m ready, Maggie. [This is evidently an intimation that she is to open the folding-doors, and he makes an effective entrance into the dining-room, his thumb in his waistcoat. There is a delicious clapping of hands from the committee, and the door closes. Not till then does MAGGIE, who has grown thoughtful, tell her maid to admit the visitor.] COMTESSE. Another lady, Mrs. Shand? MAGGIE. The card says ‘Mr. Charles Venables.’ [The COMTESSE is really interested at last.] COMTESSE. Charles Venables! Do you know him? MAGGIE. I think I call to mind meeting one of that name at the Foreign Office party. COMTESSE. One of that name! He who is a Minister of your Cabinet. But as you know him so little why should he call on you? MAGGIE. I wonder. [MAGGIE’s glance wanders to the drawer in which she has replaced JOHN’s speech.] COMTESSE. Well, well, I shall take care of you, petite. MAGGIE. Do you know him? COMTESSE. Do I know him! The last time I saw him he asked me to--to--hem!--ma cherie, it was thirty years ago. MAGGIE. Thirty years! COMTESSE. I was a pretty woman then. I dare say I shall detest him now; but if I find I do not--let us have a little plot--I shall drop this book; and then perhaps you will be so charming as--as not to be here for a little while? [MR. VENABLES, who enters, is such a courtly seigneur that he seems to bring the eighteenth century with him; you feel that his sedan chair is at the door. He stoops over MAGGIE’s plebeian hand.]