Do not be afraid of Socialism, Mr Barnabas.  You need not tremble for your property or your position or your dignity.  England will remain what England is, no matter what new political names may come into vogue.  I do not intend to resist the transition to Socialism.  You may depend on me to guide it, to lead it, to give suitable expression to its aspirations, and to steer it clear of Utopian absurdities.  I can honestly ask for your support on the most advanced Socialist grounds no less than on the soundest Liberal ones.

BURGE.  In short, Lubin, youre incorrigible.  You dont believe anything is going to change.  The millions are still to toil—­the people—­my people—­for I am a man of the people—­

LUBIN [interrupting him contemptuously] Dont be ridiculous, Burge.  You are a country solicitor, further removed from the people, more foreign to them, more jealous of letting them up to your level, than any duke or any archbishop.

BURGE [hotly] I deny it.  You think I have never been poor.  You think I have never cleaned my own boots.  You think my fingers have never come out through the soles when I was cleaning them.  You think—­

LUBIN.  I think you fall into the very common mistake of supposing that it is poverty that makes the proletarian and money that makes the gentleman.  You are quite wrong.  You never belonged to the people:  you belonged to the impecunious.  Impecuniosity and broken boots are the lot of the unsuccessful middle class, and the commonplaces of the early struggles of the professional and younger son class.  I defy you to find a farm laborer in England with broken boots.  Call a mechanic one of the poor, and he’ll punch your head.  When you talk to your constituents about the toiling millions, they don’t consider that you are referring to them.  They are all third cousins of somebody with a title or a park.  I am a Yorkshireman, my friend.  I know England; and you don’t.  If you did you would know—­

SURGE.  What do you know that I don’t know?

LUBIN.  I know that we are taking up too much of Mr Barnabas’s time. [Franklyn rises].  May I take it, my dear Barnabas, that I may count on your support if we succeed in forcing an election before the new register is in full working order?

SURGE [rising also] May the party count on your support?  I say nothing about myself.  Can the party depend on you?  Is there any question of yours that I have left unanswered?

CONRAD.  We havnt asked you any, you know.

BURGE.  May I take that as a mark of confidence?

CONRAD.  If I were a laborer in your constituency, I should ask you a biological question?

LUBIN.  No you wouldnt, my dear Doctor.  Laborers never ask questions.

BURGE.  Ask it now.  I have never flinched from being heckled.  Out with it.  Is it about the land?

CONRAD.  No.

SURGE.  Is it about the Church?