[_He punctuates with sniffs, and dabs with his handkerchief at his eyes
and nose._] Hay fever.
THE WOMAN. You are a foreigner, are you not?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. No. You must not regard me as a foreigner. I am a
Briton.
THE WOMAN. You come from some part of the British Commonwealth?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [_amiably pompous_] From its capital, madam.
THE WOMAN. From Baghdad?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. Yes. You may not be aware, madam, that these
islands were once the centre of the British Commonwealth, during a
period now known as The Exile. They were its headquarters a thousand
years ago. Few people know this interesting circumstance now; but I
assure you it is true. I have come here on a pious pilgrimage to one of
the numerous lands of my fathers. We are of the same stock, you and I.
Blood is thicker than water. We are cousins.
THE WOMAN. I do not understand. You say you have come here on a pious
pilgrimage. Is that some new means of transport?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [_again shewing signs of distress_] I find it
very difficult to make myself understood here.
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