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NANCY. I’ve loved it, Jim.

BROXOPP. Well, that’s over now. Now the real fun is beginning. (Triumphantly) Nancy, I’m on my own at last. Broxopp is on his own! (He puts her down impetuously and jumps up.) I look into the future and what do I see? I see on every hoarding, I see on the side of every omnibus, I see dotted among the ssss1fields along the great railway routes these magic words: “BROXOPP’S BEANS FOR BABIES.”

NANCY (carried away). Darling!

BROXOPP. Yes! I have begun. And now the world will see what advertisement can do in the hands of an artist. Broxopp’s Beans for Babies!

NANCY. But—(timidly) do babies like beans?

BROXOPP (confidently). They will. I can make them like anything. I can make them cry for beans. They will lean out of their little cradles and hold out their little hands and say: “Broxopp. I want Broxopp. Give me my beans.”

NANCY (seeing them). The darlings. (Business-like) Now tell me all about it.

BROXOPP (really meaning to this time). It began with—Ah, Nancy, it began with you. I might have known it would. I owe it, like everything else, to you.