PROSERPINE (gathering up her note-book and papers). That's for
me. (She hurries out.)

BURGESS (calling after her). Oh, we can spare you. (Somewhat
relieved by the triumph of having the last word, and yet half
inclined to try to improve on it, he looks after her for a
moment; then subsides into his seat by Eugene, and addresses him
very confidentially.) Now we're alone, Mr. Morchbanks, let me
give you a friendly 'int that I wouldn't give to everybody. 'Ow
long 'ave you known my son-in-law James here?

MARCHBANKS. I don't know. I never can remember dates. A few
months, perhaps.

BURGESS. Ever notice anything queer about him?

MARCHBANKS. I don't think so.

BURGESS (impressively). No more you wouldn't. That's the danger
in it. Well, he's mad.

MARCHBANKS. Mad!

BURGESS. Mad as a Morch 'are. You take notice on him and you'll
see.

MARCHBANKS (beginning). But surely that is only because his
opinions--

BURGESS (touching him with his forefinger on his knee, and