TRANTO. I'm afraid that's impossible.

JOHN. Is it? Why?

TRANTO. Well, I haven't met him myself yet. He lives at a quiet country
place in Cornwall. Hermit, I believe. Hates any kind of publicity.
Absolutely refuses to be photographed.

JOHN. Photographed! I should think not! But couldn't you get him to come
and lecture at school? We have frightful swells, you know.

TRANTO. I expect you do. But he wouldn't come.

JOHN. I wish he would. We had a debate the other Saturday night on,
Should the hereditary principle be abolished?

TRANTO. And did you abolish it?

JOHN. Did we abolish it? I should say we did. Eighty-five to twenty-one.
Some debate, believe _me_!

HILDEGARDE (_looking round_). Yes, but didn't you tell us once that in
your Debating Society the speakers always tossed for sides beforehand?

JOHN (_shrugging his shoulders. More confidentially to_ Tranto). As I
was saying, I'm going to read the papers in future, as part of my
scheme. And d'you know what the scheme is? (_Impressively_.) I've
decided to take up a political career.

TRANTO. Good!