TRANTO. But that amounts to what we've been saying in _The Echo_ to-day.

CULVER. Yes, I've read the _The Echo_.

JOHN. I thought you never had a free moment at the office--always rushed
to death--at least that's the mater's theory.

CULVER. I've read _The Echo_, and my one surprise is that you're here
to-night, Tranto.

TRANTO. Why?

CULVER. I quite thought you'd have been shoved into the Tower under the
Defence of the Realm Act. Or Sampson Straight, anyway. (Hildegarde
_starts_.) Your contributor has committed the unpardonable sin of
hitting the nail on the head. He might almost have seen an advance copy
of the Honours List.

TRANTO. He hadn't. Nor had I. Who's in it?

CULVER. You might ask who isn't in it. (_Taking a paper from his
pocket_.) Well, Gentletie's in it. He gets a knighthood.

TRANTO. Never heard of him. Who is he?

HILDEGARDE. Oh, yes, you've heard of him. (John _glances at her
severely_.) He's M.P. for some earthly paradise or other in the South
Riding.

TRANTO. Oh!