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Excerpt: ... specific, whatever it may be! There are forty millions of people in the country. Let me assume for the sake of illustration that each person would have to consume, say, five ounces a day of the elixir. That would be-let me see-five times three hundred and sixty-five is-um-twenty-five-thirty-two-eighteen-eighteen hundred and twenty-five ounces a year: just two ounces over the hundredweight. BURGE. Two million tons a year, in round numbers, of stuff that everyone would clamor for: that men would trample down women and children in the streets to get at. You couldnt produce it. There would be blue murder. It's out of the question. We must keep the actual secret to ourselves. CONRAD staring at them The actual secret! What on earth is the man talking about? BURGE. The stuff. The powder. The bottle. The tabloid. Whatever it is. You said it wasnt lemons. CONRAD. My good sir: I have no powder, no bottle, no tabloid. I am not a quack: I am a biologist. This is a thing thats going to happen. LUBIN completely let down Going to happen! Oh! Is that all? He looks at his watch. BURGE. Going to happen! What do you mean? Do you mean that you cant make it happen? CONRAD. No more than I could have made you happen. FRANKLYN. We can put it into men's heads that there is nothing to prevent its happening but their own will to die before their work is done, and their own ignorance of the splendid work there is for them to do. CONRAD. Spread that knowledge and that conviction, and as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow, the thing will happen. FRANKLYN. We don't know where or when or to whom it will happen. It may happen first to someone in this room. HASLAM. It wont happen to me: thats jolly sure. CONRAD. It might happen to anyone. It might happen to the parlor maid. How do we know? SAVVY. The parlor maid! Oh, thats nonsense, Nunk. LUBIN once more quite comfortable I think Miss Savvy has delivered the final verdict. BURGE. Do you mean to say that you have...