[_To Confucius_] You
asked me my age, Mr Chief Secretary, I am two hundred and seventy-four.
BURGE-LUBIN [_gallantly_] You don't look it. You really don't look it.
MRS LUTESTRING [_turning her face gravely towards him_] Look again, Mr
President.
BURGE-LUBIN [_looking at her bravely until the smile fades from his
face, and he suddenly covers his eyes with his hands_] Yes: you do
look it. I am convinced. It's true. Now call up the Lunatic Asylum,
Confucius; and tell them to send an ambulance for me.
MRS LUTESTRING [_to the Archbishop_] Why have you given away your
secret? our secret?
THE ARCHBISHOP. They found it out. The cinema records betrayed me. But I
never dreamt that there were others. Did you?
MRS LUTESTRING. I knew one other. She was a cook. She grew tired, and
killed herself.
THE ARCHBISHOP. Dear me! However, her death simplifies the situation, as
I have been able to convince these gentlemen that the matter had better
go no further.
MRS LUTESTRING. What! When the President knows! It will be all over the
place before the end of the week.
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