Well, there goes my career! [She lays her work aside and
goes to him.]
AGNES. Your career? [Pointing to the destroyed letters.] True that one
is over. But there's the other, you know--ours.
LUCAS. [Touching her hand.] Yes, yes, Still, it's just a little
saddening, the saying good-bye--[disturbing the scraps of paper]--to
all this.
AGNES. Saddening, dear? Why, this political career of yours--think
what it would have been at best? Accident of birth sent you to the
wrong side of the House; influence of family would always have kept you
there.
LUCAS. [Partly to himself.] But I made my mark. I did make my mark.
AGNES. Supporting the Party that retards; the Party that preserves for
the rich, palters with the poor. [Pointing to the letters again.] Oh,
there's not much to mourn for there!
LUCAS. Still, it was--success.
AGNES. Success!
LUCAS. I was talked about, written about, as a Coming Man--the Coming
Man!
AGNES. How many "coming men" has one known? Where on earth do they all
go to?
LUCAS. Ah, yes, but I allowed for the failure, and carefully set myself
to discover the causes of them. And, as I put my fingers upon the
causes and examined them, I congratulated myself and said "Well, I
haven't that weak point in my armour, or that;" and Agnes, at last I
was fool enough to imagine I had no weak point, none whatever.
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