BURGESS. That's right. (Again looking at his watch.) Well, I must
go now: there's no 'elp for it. Yo're not comin' my way, are you,
Mr. Morchbanks?

MARCHBANKS. Which way is that?

BURGESS. Victawriar Pork station. There's a city train at 12.25.

MORELL. Nonsense. Eugene will stay to lunch with us, I expect.

MARCHBANKS (anxiously excusing. himself ). No--I--I--

BURGESS. Well, well, I shan't press you: I bet you'd rather lunch
with Candy. Some night, I 'ope, you'll come and dine with me at
my club, the Freeman Founders in Nortn Folgit. Come, say you
will.

MARCHBANKS. Thank you, Mr. Burgess. Where is Norton Folgate--down
in Surrey, isn't it? (Burgess, inexpressibly tickled, begins to
splutter with laughter.)

CANDIDA (coming to the rescue). You'll lose your train, papa, if
you don't go at once. Come back in the afternoon and tell Mr.
Marchbanks where to find the club.

BURGESS (roaring with glee). Down in Surrey--har, har! that's not
a bad one. Well, I never met a man as didn't know Nortn Folgit
before.(Abashed at his own noisiness.) Good-bye, Mr. Morchbanks:
I know yo're too 'ighbred to take my pleasantry in bad part. (He