VIOLA. Well, I'm going to be Miss Wurzel-Flummery anyhow, darling.

RICHARD (beaten). Heaven help me! you'll make me take it. But
you'll never understand.

CRAWSHAW (stopping to administer comfort to him on his way out).
Come, come, Richard. (Patting him on the shoulder) I understand
perfectly. All that you were saying about money a little while ago--
it's all perfectly true, it's all just what I feel myself. But in
practice we have to make allowances sometimes. We have to sacrifice
our ideals for--ah--others. I shall be very proud to have you for a
son-in-law, and to feel that there will be the two of us in
Parliament together upholding the honour of the--ah--name. And
perhaps now that we are to be so closely related, you may come to
feel some day that your views could be--ah--more adequately put
forward from _my_ side of the House.

RICHARD. Go on, Robert; I deserve it.

CRAWSHAW. Well, well! Margaret will be interested in our news. And
you must send that solicitor a line--or perhaps a telephone message
would be better. (He goes to the door and turns round just as he is
going out.) Yes, I think the telephone, Richard; it would be safer.
[Exit.]

RICHARD (holding out his hands to VIOLA). Come here, Mrs. Wurzel-Flummery.

VIOLA. Not Mrs. Wurzel-Flummery; Mrs. Dick. And soon, please,
darling. (She comes to him.)