Books: MAJOR BARBARA
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GEORGE BERNARD SHAW >> MAJOR BARBARA
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PRICE [cheerfully] No good jawrin about it. You're ony a
jumped-up, jerked-off, orspittle-turned-out incurable of an ole
workin man: who cares about you? Eh? Make the thievin swine give
you a meal: they've stole many a one from you. Get a bit o your
own back. [Jenny returns with the usual meal]. There you are,
brother. Awsk a blessin an tuck that into you.
SHIRLEY [looking at it ravenously but not touching it, and crying
like a child] I never took anything before.
JENNY [petting him] Come, come! the Lord sends it to you: he
wasn't above taking bread from his friends; and why should you
be? Besides, when we find you a job you can pay us for it if you
like.
SHIRLEY [eagerly] Yes, yes: that's true. I can pay you back: it's
only a loan. [Shivering] Oh Lord! oh Lord! [He turns to the table
and attacks the meal ravenously].
JENNY. Well, Rummy, are you more comfortable now?
RUMMY. God bless you, lovey! You've fed my body and saved my
soul, haven't you? [Jenny, touched, kisses her] Sit down and rest
a bit: you must be ready to drop.
JENNY. I've been going hard since morning. But there's more work
than we can do. I mustn't stop.
RUMMY. Try a prayer for just two minutes. You'll work all the
better after.
JENNY [her eyes lighting up] Oh isn't it wonderful how a few
minutes prayer revives you! I was quite lightheaded at twelve
o'clock, I was so tired; but Major Barbara just sent me to pray
for five minutes; and I was able to go on as if I had only just
begun. [To Price] Did you have a piece of bread?
PAIGE [with unction] Yes, miss; but I've got the piece that I
value more; and that's the peace that passeth hall hannerstennin.
RUMMY [fervently] Glory Hallelujah!
Bill Walker, a rough customer of about 25, appears at the yard
gate and looks malevolently at Jenny.
JENNY. That makes me so happy. When you say that, I feel wicked
for loitering here. I must get to work again.
She is hurrying to the shelter, when the new-comer moves quickly
up to the door and intercepts her. His manner is so threatening
that she retreats as he comes at her truculently, driving her
down the yard.
BILL. I know you. You're the one that took away my girl. You're
the one that set er agen me. Well, I'm goin to av er out. Not
that I care a curse for her or you: see? But I'll let er know;
and I'll let you know. I'm goin to give er a doin that'll teach
er to cut away from me. Now in with you and tell er to come out
afore I come in and kick er out. Tell er Bill Walker wants er.
She'll know what that means; and if she keeps me waitin it'll be
worse. You stop to jaw back at me; and I'll start on you: d'ye
hear? There's your way. In you go. [He takes her by the arm and
slings her towards the door of the shelter. She falls on her hand
and knee. Rummy helps her up again].
PRICE [rising, and venturing irresolutely towards Bill]. Easy
there, mate. She ain't doin you no arm.
BILL. Who are you callin mate? [Standing over him threateningly].
You're goin to stand up for her, are you? Put up your ands.
RUMMY [running indignantly to him to scold him]. Oh, you great
brute-- [He instantly swings his left hand back against her
face. She screams and reels back to the trough, where she
sits down, covering her bruised face with her hands and rocking
and moaning with pain].
JENNY [going to her]. Oh God forgive you! How could you strike an
old woman like that?
BILL [seizing her by the hair so violently that she also screams,
and tearing her away from the old woman]. You Gawd forgive me
again and I'll Gawd forgive you one on the jaw that'll stop you
prayin for a week. [Holding her and turning fiercely on Price].
Av you anything to say agen it? Eh?
PRICE [intimidated]. No, matey: she ain't anything to do with me.
BILL. Good job for you! I'd put two meals into you and fight you
with one finger after, you starved cur. [To Jenny] Now are you
goin to fetch out Mog Habbijam; or am I to knock your face off
you and fetch her myself?
JENNY [writhing in his grasp] Oh please someone go in and tell
Major Barbara--[she screams again as he wrenches her head down;
and Price and Rummy, flee into the shelter].
BILL. You want to go in and tell your Major of me, do you?
JENNY. Oh please don't drag my hair. Let me go.
BILL. Do you or don't you? [She stifles a scream]. Yes or no.
JENNY. God give me strength--
BILL [striking her with his fist in the face] Go and show her
that, and tell her if she wants one like it to come and interfere
with me. [Jenny, crying with pain, goes into the shed. He goes to
the form and addresses the old man]. Here: finish your mess; and
get out o my way.
SHIRLEY [springing up and facing him fiercely, with the mug in
his hand] You take a liberty with me, and I'll smash you over the
face with the mug and cut your eye out. Ain't you satisfied--
young whelps like you--with takin the bread out o the mouths of
your elders that have brought you up and slaved for you, but you
must come shovin and cheekin and bullyin in here, where the bread
o charity is sickenin in our stummicks?
BILL [contemptuously, but backing a little] Wot good are you, you
old palsy mug? Wot good are you?
SHIRLEY. As good as you and better. I'll do a day's work agen you
or any fat young soaker of your age. Go and take my job at
Horrockses, where I worked for ten year. They want young men
there: they can't afford to keep men over forty-five. They're
very sorry--give you a character and happy to help you to get
anything suited to your years--sure a steady man won't be long
out of a job. Well, let em try you. They'll find the differ. What
do you know? Not as much as how to beeyave yourself--layin your
dirty fist across the mouth of a respectable woman!
BILL. Don't provoke me to lay it acrost yours: d'ye hear?
SHIRLEY [with blighting contempt] Yes: you like an old man to
hit, don't you, when you've finished with the women. I ain't seen
you hit a young one yet.
BILL [stung] You lie, you old soupkitchener, you. There was a
young man here. Did I offer to hit him or did I not?
SHIRLEY. Was he starvin or was he not? Was he a man or only a
crosseyed thief an a loafer? Would you hit my son-in-law's
brother?
BILL. Who's he?
SHIRLEY. Todger Fairmile o Balls Pond. Him that won 20 pounds off
the Japanese wrastler at the music hall by standin out 17 minutes
4 seconds agen him.
BILL [sullenly] I'm no music hall wrastler. Can he box?
SHIRLEY. Yes: an you can't.
BILL. Wot! I can't, can't I? Wot's that you say [threatening
him]?
SHIRLEY [not budging an inch] Will you box Todger Fairmile if I
put him on to you? Say the word.
BILL. [subsiding with a slouch] I'll stand up to any man alive,
if he was ten Todger Fairmiles. But I don't set up to be a
perfessional.
SHIRLEY [looking down on him with unfathomable disdain] YOU box!
Slap an old woman with the back o your hand! You hadn't even the
sense to hit her where a magistrate couldn't see the mark of it,
you silly young lump of conceit and ignorance. Hit a girl in the
jaw and ony make her cry! If Todger Fairmile'd done it, she
wouldn't a got up inside o ten minutes, no more than you would if
he got on to you. Yah! I'd set about you myself if I had a week's
feedin in me instead o two months starvation. [He returns to the
table to finish his meal].
BILL [following him and stooping over him to drive the taunt in]
You lie! you have the bread and treacle in you that you come here
to beg.
SHIRLEY [bursting into tears] Oh God! it's true: I'm only an old
pauper on the scrap heap. [Furiously] But you'll come to it
yourself; and then you'll know. You'll come to it sooner than a
teetotaller like me, fillin yourself with gin at this hour o the
mornin!
BILL. I'm no gin drinker, you old liar; but when I want to give
my girl a bloomin good idin I like to av a bit o devil in me:
see? An here I am, talkin to a rotten old blighter like you sted
o givin her wot for. [Working himself into a rage] I'm goin in
there to fetch her out. [He makes vengefully for the shelter
door].
SHIRLEY. You're goin to the station on a stretcher, more likely;
and they'll take the gin and the devil out of you there when they
get you inside. You mind what you're about: the major here is the
Earl o Stevenage's granddaughter.
BILL [checked] Garn!
SHIRLEY. You'll see.
BILL [his resolution oozing] Well, I ain't done nothin to er.
SHIRLEY. Spose she said you did! who'd believe you?
BILL [very uneasy, skulking back to the corner of the penthouse]
Gawd! There's no jastice in this country. To think wot them
people can do! I'm as good as er.
SHIRLEY. Tell her so. It's just what a fool like you would do.
Barbara, brisk and businesslike, comes from the shelter with a
note book, and addresses herself to Shirley. Bill, cowed, sits
down in the corner on a form, and turns his back on them.
BARBARA. Good morning.
SHIRLEY [standing up and taking off his hat] Good morning, miss.
BARBARA. Sit down: make yourself at home. [He hesitates; but she
puts a friendly hand on his shoulder and makes him obey]. Now
then! since you've made friends with us, we want to know all
about you. Names and addresses and trades.
SHIRLEY. Peter Shirley. Fitter. Chucked out two months ago
because I was too old.
BARBARA [not at all surprised] You'd pass still. Why didn't you
dye your hair?
SHIRLEY. I did. Me age come out at a coroner's inquest on me
daughter.
BARBARA. Steady?
SHIRLEY. Teetotaller. Never out of a job before. Good worker. And
sent to the knockers like an old horse!
BARBARA. No matter: if you did your part God will do his.
SHIRLEY [suddenly stubborn] My religion's no concern of anybody
but myself.
BARBARA [guessing] I know. Secularist?
SHIRLEY [hotly] Did I offer to deny it?
BARBARA. Why should you? My own father's a Secularist, I think.
Our Father--yours and mine--fulfils himself in many ways; and I
daresay he knew what he was about when he made a Secularist of
you. So buck up, Peter! we can always find a job for a steady man
like you. [Shirley, disarmed, touches his hat. She turns from him
to Bill]. What's your name?
BILL [insolently] Wot's that to you?
BARBARA [calmly making a note] Afraid to give his name. Any
trade?
BILL. Who's afraid to give his name? [Doggedly, with a sense of
heroically defying the House of Lords in the person of Lord
Stevenage] If you want to bring a charge agen me, bring it. [She
waits, unruffled]. My name's Bill Walker.
BARBARA [as if the name were familiar: trying to remember how]
Bill Walker? [Recollecting] Oh, I know: you're the man that Jenny
Hill was praying for inside just now. [She enters his name in her
note book].
BILL. Who's Jenny Hill? And what call has she to pray for me?
BARBARA. I don't know. Perhaps it was you that cut her lip.
BILL [defiantly] Yes, it was me that cut her lip. I ain't afraid
o you.
BARBARA. How could you be, since you're not afraid of God? You're
a brave man, Mr. Walker. It takes some pluck to do our work here;
but none of us dare lift our hand against a girl like that, for
fear of her father in heaven.
BILL [sullenly] I want none o your cantin jaw. I suppose you
think I come here to beg from you, like this damaged lot here.
Not me. I don't want your bread and scrape and catlap. I don't
believe in your Gawd, no more than you do yourself.
BARBARA [sunnily apologetic and ladylike, as on a new footing
with him] Oh, I beg your pardon for putting your name down, Mr.
Walker. I didn't understand. I'll strike it out.
BILL [taking this as a slight, and deeply wounded by it] Eah! you
let my name alone. Ain't it good enough to be in your book?
BARBARA [considering] Well, you see, there's no use putting down
your name unless I can do something for you, is there? What's
your trade?
BILL [still smarting] That's no concern o yours.
BARBARA. Just so. [very businesslike] I'll put you down as
[writing] the man who--struck--poor little Jenny Hill--in the
mouth.
BILL [rising threateningly] See here. I've ad enough o this.
BARBARA [quite sunny and fearless] What did you come to us for?
BILL. I come for my girl, see? I come to take her out o this and
to break er jaws for her.
BARBARA [complacently] You see I was right about your trade.
[Bill, on the point of retorting furiously, finds himself, to his
great shame and terror, in danger of crying instead. He sits down
again suddenly]. What's her name?
BILL [dogged] Er name's Mog Abbijam: thats wot her name is.
BARBARA. Oh, she's gone to Canning Town, to our barracks there.
BILL [fortified by his resentment of Mog's perfidy] is she?
[Vindictively] Then I'm goin to Kennintahn arter her. [He crosses
to the gate; hesitates; finally comes back at Barbara]. Are you
lyin to me to get shut o me?
BARBARA. I don't want to get shut of you. I want to keep you here
and save your soul. You'd better stay: you're going to have a bad
time today, Bill.
BILL. Who's goin to give it to me? You, props.
BARBARA. Someone you don't believe in. But you'll be glad
afterwards.
BILL [slinking off] I'll go to Kennintahn to be out o the reach o
your tongue. [Suddenly turning on her with intense malice] And if
I don't find Mog there, I'll come back and do two years for you,
selp me Gawd if I don't!
BARBARA [a shade kindlier, if possible] It's no use, Bill. She's
got another bloke.
BILL. Wot!
BARBARA. One of her own converts. He fell in love with her when
he saw her with her soul saved, and her face clean, and her hair
washed.
BILL [surprised] Wottud she wash it for, the carroty slut? It's
red.
BARBARA. It's quite lovely now, because she wears a new look in
her eyes with it. It's a pity you're too late. The new bloke has
put your nose out of joint, Bill.
BILL. I'll put his nose out o joint for him. Not that I care a
curse for her, mind that. But I'll teach her to drop me as if I
was dirt. And I'll teach him to meddle with my Judy. Wots iz
bleedin name?
BARBARA. Sergeant Todger Fairmile.
SHIRLEY [rising with grim joy] I'll go with him, miss. I want to
see them two meet. I'll take him to the infirmary when it's over.
BILL [to Shirley, with undissembled misgiving] Is that im you was
speakin on?
SHIRLEY. That's him.
BILL. Im that wrastled in the music all?
SHIRLEY. The competitions at the National Sportin Club was worth
nigh a hundred a year to him. He's gev em up now for religion; so
he's a bit fresh for want of the exercise he was accustomed to.
He'll be glad to see you. Come along.
BILL. Wots is weight?
SHIRLEY. Thirteen four. [Bill's last hope expires].
BARBARA. Go and talk to him, Bill. He'll convert you.
SHIRLEY. He'll convert your head into a mashed potato.
BILL [sullenly] I ain't afraid of him. I ain't afraid of
ennybody. But he can lick me. She's done me. [He sits down
moodily on the edge of the horse trough].
SHIRLEY. You ain't goin. I thought not. [He resumes his seat].
BARBARA [calling] Jenny!
JENNY [appearing at the shelter door with a plaster on the corner
of her mouth] Yes, Major.
BARBARA. Send Rummy Mitchens out to clear away here.
JENNY. I think she's afraid.
BARBARA [her resemblance to her mother flashing out for a moment]
Nonsense! she must do as she's told.
JENNY [calling into the shelter] Rummy: the Major says you must
come.
Jenny comes to Barbara, purposely keeping on the side next Bill,
lest he should suppose that she shrank from him or bore malice.
BARBARA. Poor little Jenny! Are you tired? [Looking at the
wounded cheek] Does it hurt?
JENNY. No: it's all right now. It was nothing.
BARBARA [critically] It was as hard as he could hit, I expect.
Poor Bill! You don't feel angry with him, do you?
JENNY. Oh no, no, no: indeed I don't, Major, bless his poor
heart! [Barbara kisses her; and she runs away merrily into the
shelter. Bill writhes with an agonizing return of his new and
alarming symptoms, but says nothing. Rummy Mitchens comes from
the shelter].
BARBARA [going to meet Rummy] Now Rummy, bustle. Take in those
mugs and plates to be washed; and throw the crumbs about for the
birds.
Rummy takes the three plates and mugs; but Shirley takes back his
mug from her, as there it still come milk left in it.
RUMMY. There ain't any crumbs. This ain't a time to waste good
bread on birds.
PRICE [appearing at the shelter door] Gentleman come to see the
shelter, Major. Says he's your father.
BARBARA. All right. Coming. [Snobby goes back into the shelter,
followed by Barbara].
RUMMY [stealing across to Bill and addressing him in a subdued
voice, but with intense conviction] I'd av the lor of you, you
flat eared pignosed potwalloper, if she'd let me. You're no
gentleman, to hit a lady in the face. [Bill, with greater things
moving in him, takes no notice].
SHIRLEY [following her] Here! in with you and don't get yourself
into more trouble by talking.
RUMMY [with hauteur] I ain't ad the pleasure o being hintroduced
to you, as I can remember. [She goes into the shelter with the
plates].
BILL [savagely] Don't you talk to me, d'ye hear. You lea me
alone, or I'll do you a mischief. I'm not dirt under your feet,
anyway.
SHIRLEY [calmly] Don't you be afeerd. You ain't such prime
company that you need expect to be sought after. [He is about to
go into the shelter when Barbara comes out, with Undershaft on
her right].
BARBARA. Oh there you are, Mr Shirley! [Between them] This is my
father: I told you he was a Secularist, didn't I? Perhaps you'll
be able to comfort one another.
UNDERSHAFT [startled] A Secularist! Not the least in the world:
on the contrary, a confirmed mystic.
BARBARA. Sorry, I'm sure. By the way, papa, what is your
religion--in case I have to introduce you again?
UNDERSHAFT. My religion? Well, my dear, I am a Millionaire. That
is my religion.
BARBARA. Then I'm afraid you and Mr Shirley wont be able to
comfort one another after all. You're not a Millionaire, are you,
Peter?
SHIRLEY. No; and proud of it.
UNDERSHAFT [gravely] Poverty, my friend, is not a thing to be
proud of.
SHIRLEY [angrily] Who made your millions for you? Me and my like.
What's kep us poor? Keepin you rich. I wouldn't have your
conscience, not for all your income.
UNDERSHAFT. I wouldn't have your income, not for all your
conscience, Mr Shirley. [He goes to the penthouse and sits down
on a form].
BARBARA [stopping Shirley adroitly as he is about to retort] You
wouldn't think he was my father, would you, Peter? Will you go
into the shelter and lend the lasses a hand for a while: we're
worked off our feet.
SHIRLEY [bitterly] Yes: I'm in their debt for a meal, ain't I?
BARBARA. Oh, not because you're in their debt; but for love of
them, Peter, for love of them. [He cannot understand, and is
rather scandalized]. There! Don't stare at me. In with you; and
give that conscience of yours a holiday [bustling him into the
shelter].
SHIRLEY [as he goes in] Ah! it's a pity you never was trained to
use your reason, miss. You'd have been a very taking lecturer on
Secularism.
Barbara turns to her father.
UNDERSHAFT. Never mind me, my dear. Go about your work; and let
me watch it for a while.
BARBARA. All right.
UNDERSHAFT. For instance, what's the matter with that out-patient
over there?
BARBARA [looking at Bill, whose attitude has never changed, and
whose expression of brooding wrath has deepened] Oh, we shall
cure him in no time. Just watch. [She goes over to Bill and
waits. He glances up at her and casts his eyes down again,
uneasy, but grimmer than ever]. It would be nice to just stamp on
Mog Habbijam's face, wouldn't it, Bill?
BILL [starting up from the trough in consternation] It's a lie: I
never said so. [She shakes her head]. Who told you wot was in my
mind?
BARBARA. Only your new friend.
BILL. Wot new friend?
BARBARA. The devil, Bill. When he gets round people they get
miserable, just like you.
HILL [with a heartbreaking attempt at devil-may-care
cheerfulness] I ain't miserable. [He sits down again, and
stretches his legs in an attempt to seem indifferent].
BARBARA. Well, if you're happy, why don't you look happy, as we
do?
BILL [his legs curling back in spite of him] I'm appy enough, I
tell you. Why don't you lea me alown? Wot av I done to you? I
ain't smashed your face, av I?
BARBARA [softly: wooing his soul] It's not me that's getting at
you, Bill.
BILL. Who else is it?
BARBARA. Somebody that doesn't intend you to smash women's faces,
I suppose. Somebody or something that wants to make a man of you.
BILL [blustering] Make a man o ME! Ain't I a man? eh? ain't I a
man? Who sez I'm not a man?
BARBARA. There's a man in you somewhere, I suppose. But why did
he let you hit poor little Jenny Hill? That wasn't very manly of
him, was it?
BILL [tormented] Av done with it, I tell you. Chock it. I'm sick
of your Jenny Ill and er silly little face.
BARBARA. Then why do you keep thinking about it? Why does it keep
coming up against you in your mind? You're not getting converted,
are you?
BILL [with conviction] Not ME. Not likely. Not arf.
BARBARA. That's right, Bill. Hold out against it. Put out your
strength. Don't let's get you cheap. Todger Fairmile said he
wrestled for three nights against his Salvation harder than he
ever wrestled with the Jap at the music hall. He gave in to the
Jap when his arm was going to break. But he didn't give in to his
salvation until his heart was going to break. Perhaps you'll
escape that. You haven't any heart, have you?
BILL. Wot dye mean? Wy ain't I got a art the same as ennybody
else?
BARBARA. A man with a heart wouldn't have bashed poor little
Jenny's face, would he?
BILL [almost crying] Ow, will you lea me alown? Av I ever offered
to meddle with you, that you come noggin and provowkin me lawk
this? [He writhes convulsively from his eyes to his toes].
BARBARA [with a steady soothing hand on his arm and a gentle
voice that never lets him go] It's your soul that's hurting you,
Bill, and not me. We've been through it all ourselves. Come with
us, Bill. [He looks wildly round]. To brave manhood on earth and
eternal glory in heaven. [He is on the point of breaking down].
Come. [A drum is heard in the shelter; and Bill, with a gasp,
escapes from the spell as Barbara turns quickly. Adolphus enters
from the shelter with a big drum]. Oh! there you are, Dolly. Let
me introduce a new friend of mine, Mr Bill Walker. This is my
bloke, Bill: Mr Cusins. [Cusins salutes with his drumstick].
BILL. Goin to marry im?
BARBARA. Yes.
BILL [fervently] Gawd elp im! Gawd elp im!
BARBARA. Why? Do you think he won't be happy with me?
BILL. I've only ad to stand it for a mornin: e'll av to stand it
for a lifetime.
CUSINS. That is a frightful reflection, Mr Walker. But I can't
tear myself away from her.
BILL. Well, I can. [To Barbara] Eah! do you know where I'm goin
to, and wot I'm goin to do?
BARBARA. Yes: you're going to heaven; and you're coming back here
before the week's out to tell me so.
BILL. You lie. I'm goin to Kennintahn, to spit in Todger
Fairmile's eye. I bashed Jenny Ill's face; and now I'll get me
own face bashed and come back and show it to er. E'll it me
ardern I it er. That'll make us square. [To Adolphus] Is that
fair or is it not? You're a genlmn: you oughter know.
BARBARA. Two black eyes wont make one white one, Bill.
BILL. I didn't ast you. Cawn't you never keep your mahth shut? I
ast the genlmn.
CUSINS [reflectively] Yes: I think you're right, Mr Walker. Yes:
I should do it. It's curious: it's exactly what an ancient Greek
would have done.
BARBARA. But what good will it do?
CUSINS. Well, it will give Mr Fairmile some exercise; and it will
satisfy Mr Walker's soul.
BILL. Rot! there ain't no sach a thing as a soul. Ah kin you tell
wether I've a soul or not? You never seen it.
BARBARA. I've seen it hurting you when you went against it.
BILL [with compressed aggravation] If you was my girl and took
the word out o me mahth lawk thet, I'd give you suthink you'd
feel urtin, so I would. [To Adolphus] You take my tip, mate. Stop
er jawr; or you'll die afore your time. [With intense expression]
Wore aht: thets wot you'll be: wore aht. [He goes away through
the gate].
CUSINS [looking after him] I wonder!
BARBARA. Dolly! [indignant, in her mother's manner].
CUSINS. Yes, my dear, it's very wearing to be in love with you.
If it lasts, I quite think I shall die young.
BARBARA. Should you mind?
CUSINS. Not at all. [He is suddenly softened, and kisses her over
the drum, evidently not for the first time, as people cannot kiss
over a big drum without practice. Undershaft coughs].
BARBARA. It's all right, papa, we've not forgotten you. Dolly:
explain the place to papa: I haven't time. [She goes busily into
the shelter].
Undershaft and Adolpbus now have the yard to themselves.
Undershaft, seated on a form, and still keenly attentive, looks
hard at Adolphus. Adolphus looks hard at him.
UNDERSHAFT. I fancy you guess something of what is in my mind, Mr
Cusins. [Cusins flourishes his drumsticks as if in the art of
beating a lively rataplan, but makes no sound]. Exactly so. But
suppose Barbara finds you out!
CUSINS. You know, I do not admit that I am imposing on Barbara. I
am quite genuinely interested in the views of the Salvation Army.
The fact is, I am a sort of collector of religions; and the
curious thing is that I find I can believe them all. By the way,
have you any religion?
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