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Page 25
BARBARA. All right. Coming. [Snobby goes back into the shelter,
followed by Barbara].
RUMMY [stealing across to Bill and addressing him in a subdued
voice, but with intense conviction] I'd av the lor of you, you
flat eared pignosed potwalloper, if she'd let me. You're no
gentleman, to hit a lady in the face. [Bill, with greater things
moving in him, takes no notice].
SHIRLEY [following her] Here! in with you and don't get yourself
into more trouble by talking.
RUMMY [with hauteur] I ain't ad the pleasure o being hintroduced
to you, as I can remember. [She goes into the shelter with the
plates].
BILL [savagely] Don't you talk to me, d'ye hear. You lea me
alone, or I'll do you a mischief. I'm not dirt under your feet,
anyway.
SHIRLEY [calmly] Don't you be afeerd. You ain't such prime
company that you need expect to be sought after. [He is about to
go into the shelter when Barbara comes out, with Undershaft on
her right].
BARBARA. Oh there you are, Mr Shirley! [Between them] This is my
father: I told you he was a Secularist, didn't I? Perhaps you'll
be able to comfort one another.
UNDERSHAFT [startled] A Secularist! Not the least in the world:
on the contrary, a confirmed mystic.
BARBARA. Sorry, I'm sure. By the way, papa, what is your
religion--in case I have to introduce you again?
UNDERSHAFT. My religion? Well, my dear, I am a Millionaire. That
is my religion.
BARBARA. Then I'm afraid you and Mr Shirley wont be able to
comfort one another after all. You're not a Millionaire, are you,
Peter?
SHIRLEY. No; and proud of it.
UNDERSHAFT [gravely] Poverty, my friend, is not a thing to be
proud of.
SHIRLEY [angrily] Who made your millions for you? Me and my like.
What's kep us poor? Keepin you rich. I wouldn't have your
conscience, not for all your income.
UNDERSHAFT. I wouldn't have your income, not for all your
conscience, Mr Shirley. [He goes to the penthouse and sits down
on a form].
BARBARA [stopping Shirley adroitly as he is about to retort] You
wouldn't think he was my father, would you, Peter? Will you go
into the shelter and lend the lasses a hand for a while: we're
worked off our feet.
SHIRLEY [bitterly] Yes: I'm in their debt for a meal, ain't I?
BARBARA. Oh, not because you're in their debt; but for love of
them, Peter, for love of them. [He cannot understand, and is
rather scandalized]. There! Don't stare at me. In with you; and
give that conscience of yours a holiday [bustling him into the
shelter].
SHIRLEY [as he goes in] Ah! it's a pity you never was trained to
use your reason, miss. You'd have been a very taking lecturer on
Secularism.
Barbara turns to her father.
UNDERSHAFT. Never mind me, my dear. Go about your work; and let
me watch it for a while.
BARBARA. All right.
UNDERSHAFT. For instance, what's the matter with that out-patient
over there?
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