Part 2
JOHN: That was all. I don’t say I never wanted any more. However, I didn’t expect any more; I didn’t know any more, and I was quite ready to go on like that till we were married.
COLIN: Yes?
JOHN: I was terrified of getting killed in France before I’d had any experience at all.
COLIN: Yes.
JOHN: Just before an attack, when I was quite sure I was going to get knocked out, I went off the deep end and had my experience.
COLIN: Yes.
JOHN: Then we attacked ... it was funny; I remember feeling very proud of myself--and I didn’t get knocked out. Afterwards I thought a great deal about that first little French girl, and about Frankie; and one night I realised I loved Frankie desperately, because I wanted her like that; and because of Frankie I kept clear of any more of it.... I just lived for my next leave, and the moment when I should see Frankie again ... and the first time we were alone again--it was in this room--I was standing over there and she came in, and came towards me and I went to meet her, and I put my arms round her and held her close--closer than I’d ever done before. My God, I loved her that moment....
COLIN: Yes?
JOHN: She pushed me away. She hardly said anything; but she made me feel that she was a little angry and a little indignant--I’ve never felt such a fool in my life ... before I went back to the front that leave, I’d met Toby.
COLIN: I remember. You still see her?
JOHN: Sometimes. She’s coming here to-night.
COLIN: Here!
JOHN: Upstairs. It’s like my own flat, you know.
COLIN: Yes--but....
JOHN: I know. But I was certain they were all going out to dinner. And she’s always wanted to see the attic; and they haven’t gone out; and now Frankie’s turned up!
COLIN: Frankie!
JOHN: Yes; she’s in the drawing-room; I’m worried.
COLIN: I’m not surprised.
JOHN: I’m desperately anxious to get Toby up there without her meeting anybody. It’s an underhand business; it’s got to stop. (_He is troubled._) They’ve never been so close; in any sort of way.... Colin, I don’t make love to Frankie; not at all; she doesn’t seem to want it.
COLIN: Are you sure?
JOHN: Yes, I think so; that’s the trouble. I never get any _response_ from her. It makes me rather uncomfortable with her, and shy! She doesn’t seem to miss anything ... but, unless, in my marriage, that part of it is as perfect, and as beautiful as ... as Toby has taught me it can be, my marriage will be a failure. I’m getting afraid it isn’t in Frankie.
COLIN: It may be. You never can tell.
JOHN: And it may not be ... a mistaken marriage messes up two lives at least.
COLIN: But they’re not uncommon.
JOHN: It’s silly, isn’t it?
COLIN: But there it is.
JOHN: Do you know what I believe I _ought_ to do?
COLIN: What?
JOHN: Go to Frankie and either break off our engagement, or else ask her to come away with me somewhere.... I’m perfectly serious; you may say “There it is ... it’s the way Civilisation has always managed it.” Civilisation made millions of young people kill and maim and torture one another for five bloody years--there’s something wrong with Civilisation. I don’t mean that because a thing was there before the war it _must_ be wrong--but it _may_ be ... a good many things have got to be thought out again from the beginning--this business of marriage is one of them.
COLIN: Have you said anything about it to her?
JOHN: No.
COLIN: Why don’t you?
[_GWEN comes quickly into the room._
GWEN: Oh! sorry; I thought you were upstairs.
JOHN: Come in. You do know one another, don’t you?
COLIN: Yes. We’ve met. How d’you do?
[_They shake hands._
JOHN: I’ll get that score. (_He moves to the door._)
COLIN (_to GWEN_): I wonder if you remember where we met?
GWEN: Quite well; at a concert; you were very nice to me.
COLIN: I’m very glad.
GWEN: A man played some very modern music--and you asked me what I thought of it; I didn’t like it a bit really, but I didn’t like to say so; and you said it was the sort of music one never ought to hear for the first time.
COLIN: Not such a bad remark; I wonder where I heard it ... do you play and sing, and have your brother’s accomplishments?
GWEN: I don’t do anything.
JOHN (_who has stopped to select a fruit from the table--as he disappears_): Painting’s Gwen’s forte.
COLIN: Painting?
GWEN: I’ve given it up....
COLIN: Why?
GWEN: I don’t know.
COLIN: I should like to see something of yours.
GWEN: That’s mine. (_She indicates a little painting on the wall that is hung close to another.... He goes to it._) I was very young.
COLIN: It’s very good.
GWEN: I used to love painting.
COLIN (_moving to the other picture_): This yours too?
GWEN: No; that’s by ... somebody else.
[_He looks at her--and back at the picture._
COLIN (_meaning it_): It’s quite beautiful.
GWEN (_with eagerness_): Do you think so?... I do.
COLIN: It’s not unlike yours ... you knew the painter?
GWEN (_simply_): I wanted to marry him ... only ... well, he was quite poor, so it was stopped. And then he was killed.
COLIN: In the war?
GWEN: Yes.
COLIN: I’m sorry.
GWEN: I’ve got over it. I didn’t think I should--but I have.
[_They look at each other and smile._
COLIN: Why has your brother kept us apart all this time?
GWEN: Has he?
COLIN: I know him so well; it seems absurd I know you so little.
GWEN: Well--here I am!
COLIN: And I’ve got to rush away; I’m sorry----
GWEN: So am I.
COLIN: I’m going to hear this new ballet: I wish you were coming.
GWEN: So do I.
COLIN: I’m taking somebody. I’ve got the last two seats in the house.... Will you come to-morrow night?
GWEN: Yes.
COLIN: Do you go to bed very early?
GWEN (_laughing_): Why?
COLIN: If I come in after the ballet--to tell you whether I’ve got tickets--will you have disappeared?
GWEN: No.
[_JOHN returns with the music score._
COLIN: Thanks ... I must be off.... (_To GWEN_) Then I won’t say good night.... John, I’m going to look in on my way back from the show.
JOHN: Do ... bring Margaret ... what time does this thing begin?
[_They disappear.... GWEN is quiet in the room till her brother’s return._
JOHN: If you’re going into the drawing-room, I wish you’d tell Frankie I want to see her.
GWEN: Is he married?
JOHN: Colin?
GWEN: Yes.
JOHN: No.
GWEN: Does he live by himself?
JOHN: Er ... as a matter of fact I believe he does, at the moment.
GWEN (_point-blank_): What’s that mean, Jacko?
JOHN (_a little taken aback_): Well--he’s made a lot of money; he’s got a beautiful flat and a lovely little cottage in the country; he knows lots of people; there’s a queer superficial cynicism about him--but if I was in trouble I’d sooner go to him than to anybody I know----
GWEN: Yes?... Go on.
JOHN: He married when he was quite young; about twenty I believe and it failed; I think he divorced her; he’s never found anything permanent since.
[_ROSIE enters to clear the table._
In some ways I think he’s a very lonely person, but he’s not always alone.
GWEN (_moving to the door_): I’ll tell Frankie you want her.
JOHN (_as she is at the door_): Not in the attic. Down here.
GWEN: Right.
[_She goes._
JOHN (_to ROSIE, who is clearing away_): You’ll show my friend straight up into the attic, Rosie, when she comes--won’t you?
ROSIE: Yes, Mr. John.
JOHN: Is that speaking-tube arrangement mended yet?
ROSIE: Yes, Mr. John.
JOHN: ... If I’m up there when Miss Frankie is going you might give me a whistle on it, will you? ... don’t wait for an answer ... just blow it three times and I’ll know what it means.
ROSIE: Yes, Mr. John.
JOHN: Thank you.
[_FRANKIE comes in._
FRANKIE: Do you want me?
JOHN: Yes ... don’t bother about the table now, Rosie, d’you mind----?
ROSIE: No, Mr. John.
JOHN: I’ll ring later.
ROSIE: Thank you, sir.
[_ROSIE goes out._
JOHN: Another row with my father to-night.
FRANKIE: Oh, John!...
JOHN: He was in the right.
FRANKIE: What about?
JOHN: I stayed away from the office.
FRANKIE: Why did you?
JOHN: What would you say if I chucked it altogether?
FRANKIE: The business?
JOHN: Yes.
FRANKIE: For good?
JOHN: Yes.
FRANKIE: What would you do?
JOHN: Oh, there’s a lot of writing I want to get done.
FRANKIE: What sort of writing?
JOHN (_wretched_): Oh ... articles; and a book.
FRANKIE: To get it published?
JOHN: I hope so.
FRANKIE: Would you get any money for it?
JOHN: Not much.
FRANKIE: Then what would happen to us?
JOHN: ... I don’t know the answer to that.
FRANKIE: John--what’s the matter? ... do you mean you want a longer holiday?
JOHN: I want to start work.
FRANKIE: But you _can’t_ talk about giving up the business ... after all it’s going to make our marriage possible, isn’t it----?
JOHN: Are you looking forward to our marriage?
FRANKIE: I should think I _am_!
JOHN: Are you _really_?
FRANKIE: John!... (_She goes to him and stands quite close to him, playing with the lapel of his coat ... her voice is thrillingly low and eager._) I’ve been thinking such lots about the time when we’re married.
JOHN: Have you?
FRANKIE: Yes. Listen!... If we don’t furnish those two top rooms at once, I think we’ll be able to have two servants; I’ve been going all through it with mother to-day--my dear, the prices of things are awful--but that’ll mean one to wait at dinner, and that’s ever so much nicer--and I’m going to give you such lovely little dinners--when you bring your friends home--and p’r’aps when you don’t sometimes!... Oh, and I’ve furnished your study to-day in my head--it’s going to be ever so comfy ... and you can write your book there in the evenings ... I won’t come near you if you don’t want me to ... you know, dear, we couldn’t have a smaller house than the little one at the corner, could we? ... and it’s really ever so cheap.
JOHN: It’s a queer business, marriage, isn’t it?
FRANKIE: Yes.
JOHN: We’ve got to be everything to each other for the rest of our lives.
FRANKIE: Dear!... I’m going to try to be----
JOHN: ... Frankie!
FRANKIE: Yes, dear.
JOHN: Do you remember once when I took you in my arms and kissed you?
FRANKIE: Yes.
JOHN: You _do_ remember that time?
FRANKIE (_low_): Yes. Very well.
JOHN: If I did it now--would you tell me not to?
FRANKIE: ... I don’t know.
JOHN: May I?
FRANKIE: I’d rather you didn’t.
JOHN: Why?
FRANKIE: Kiss me, John, if you want to, but not like that.
JOHN: Why?
FRANKIE: I’d rather you didn’t.
[_They stand close, untouching and silent ... MR. FREEMAN comes in._
MR. FREEMAN: Hullo! Sorry! Thought you were upstairs. Your father’s back; the car’s out there. But, look here, you stay for a bit if you like. John can walk home with you.
FRANKIE: I think I’d better go with Dad.
[_The gate wails and screeches--JOHN hurries to the window._
MR. FREEMAN: Who’s that?
JOHN: Colin came back.
MR. FREEMAN: Who’s Colin?
JOHN: The man who was here just now.
MR. FREEMAN: What’s he come back for?
JOHN: I don’t know.
[_MRS. FREEMAN comes in._
MR. FREEMAN (_family curiosity_): Where’s Gwen?
MRS. FREEMAN: Gone out to the car with Mr. Sewell. Are you going to stay, Frankie?
FRANKIE: I think I’d better go back with Dad.... Good night, Mrs. Freeman.
MRS. FREEMAN: Good night, dear. (_A kiss._)
FRANKIE: Good night, Mr. Freeman--good night, John.
JOHN: Good night, Frankie.
[_GWEN enters._
GWEN: What a topping car.
FRANKIE: We’ve only had it a week.
GWEN: Can you drive it?
FRANKIE: Rather.
[_JOHN makes his escape._
GWEN: I like it heaps better than the old one.
FRANKIE: I should think so. Is Dad waiting?
GWEN: He’s gone.
FRANKIE: Gone?
GWEN: I thought you were going to stop.
MR. FREEMAN: You’ll have to now.
GWEN: Who was that on the doorstep?
MR. FREEMAN: That feller’s come back.
GWEN: It’s dark out there; I began talking; I thought it was you at first, Frankie.
MR. FREEMAN: It was that feller.
GWEN: Oh no, it wasn’t.
MR. FREEMAN: Eh? Then who was it?
[_GWEN scents danger._
GWEN: Oh, nobody.
MR. FREEMAN: What d’you mean--nobody?
GWEN: Nobody we know.
MR. FREEMAN: D’you know that feller?
GWEN: Yes.
MR. FREEMAN: It wasn’t him?
GWEN: Er ... no.
MR. FREEMAN: Then why the deuce did he say it was? You thought it was Frankie. Was it a man or a woman?
GWEN: Oh, father, it wasn’t anybody we know.
MR. FREEMAN (_under his breath to his wife_): Take ’em into the drawing-room.
MRS. FREEMAN: Let’s go into the drawing-room, Frankie--it’s so much nicer there.
[_FRANKIE is ushered out. GWEN is following, but:_
MR. FREEMAN: Gwen!
[_GWEN stops._
Shut the door!
[_GWEN does._
Who let her in?
GWEN: Rosie!
MR. FREEMAN: Send Rosie here.
GWEN: Oh, father!
MR. FREEMAN: Send Rosie to me.
GWEN: Oh, my goodness.
MR. FREEMAN: Will you please not say “Oh, my goodness” to me.... Go and tell Rosie I want her.
[_GWEN goes out.... MR. FREEMAN pulls the scented letter from his pocket, smells it, and with an exclamation of disgust flings it on the table.... ROSIE comes in._
Did you show anybody up to Mr. John’s attic just now?
[_ROSIE is silent._
Did you?
ROSIE: Yes, sir.
MR. FREEMAN: Was it a man or a woman?
ROSIE (_loyally_): It was a friend of Mr. John’s.
MR. FREEMAN: Was it a man or a woman?
ROSIE (_sticking to it_): I don’t know ’oo it was.
MR. FREEMAN: She’s up there now? ... is she? ... what’s the matter with you, girl? ... is she?
ROSIE: I don’t know, sir.
MR. FREEMAN: Is this thing mended?
ROSIE: I don’t know, sir.
[_MR. FREEMAN gets up and blows in the speaking-tube like an amateur trombonist or an irritated typhoon--and listens ... evidently no answer ... another blow ... and another ... then another listen ... still no answer ... he hangs back the tube and flings from the room ... slamming the door after him ... he returns to pick up the offending letter from the table and bear it with him from the room.... ROSIE remains, sniffing pathetically ... she creeps from the room._
CURTAIN
END OF ACT I
ACT II
ACT II
UPSTAIRS
_The attic that has been in turn JOHN’S nursery, his school-room, and is now his flat. Plain distempered walls; a few pictures--some reproductions of Orpen and Augustus John, and of a Nevinson war picture called “The Doctor”; books; some statuettes; a baby grand piano, littered with manuscript music; two tennis racquets and plenty of comfortable places to sit. The fire-place, which has been converted to a gas-stove, is in the middle of the footlights--that is to say it is imagined--but the chairs are placed so that a group sitting round the imagined gas-fire, sit directly facing the audience, and quite intimately close to the footlights. Two doors; one into his bedroom, the other on to the landing at the head of the staircase._
_ROSIE shows in TOBY. TOBY is in the chorus of a musical comedy in a West End theatre. Slight and very pretty, with fair hair and large blue eyes. If you were to talk to her at all confidentially, she would tell you that she thought musical comedy silly, and the other girls in the chorus awfully empty; indeed she has a good deal of sense--but not of her own. Often she could have “got off” with middle-aged business men with money, or with young men with well-brushed hair and incomes; but such were of “no use” to her. Through a curious quality in her she attracts, and is attracted by artists; her life has been mostly in studios and cafés, and from her surroundings, and from the artists that have been in her life, she has acquired her sense and taste._
ROSIE: This is what we call Mr. John’s attic ... you’ve got to wait here. I’ll tell him. (_She is going; as she reaches the door._)
TOBY: I say!
[_ROSIE turns._
Isn’t there a glass here?
ROSIE: A glass?
TOBY: Something to see yourself in.
ROSIE: Oh! ... in ’is bedroom.
TOBY: In there?
ROSIE: Yes.
[_TOBY goes into the bedroom. ROSIE has never seen her before; she looks after her; the tiniest wrinkle of her nose at the door through which TOBY has disappeared is her criticism. She goes out of the room on to the landing and downstairs ... somebody is heard on the attic stairs, and JOHN comes hurriedly into the room. He stops in the doorway surprised._
JOHN: Toby!
[_TOBY appears at the door having taken off her hat and coat._
I couldn’t think where you’d got to.
TOBY: I like your bedroom.
JOHN: Do you?
TOBY: Who was that I met outside?
JOHN (_with patent anxiety_): Did you meet anybody?
TOBY: Yes.
JOHN: Where?
TOBY: On the doorstep; Gwen they called her.
JOHN (_with patent relief_): Oh! She’s all right ... she’s my sister.
TOBY: It’s nice here. Why haven’t you asked me here before?
JOHN: It’s nicer in your room--because it’s _yours_.
TOBY: I hate you sometimes.
JOHN: Why?
TOBY: When you say things you don’t mean ... you never wanted me to come here ... you don’t want me now.... If you think I don’t know ... that’s why I’ve come. If you’d had the courage to say out you didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t of....
[_He has no answer._
... I wish I hadn’t now; coming all up through a great horrid strange house; I nearly went away again.
JOHN: I’m glad you didn’t.
TOBY: Why?
JOHN: I’m worried to-night--it’s good to be near you. (_He is sincere._)
TOBY: Is it?
JOHN: Yes.
TOBY: Then I’m glad I came.
JOHN (_getting happier_): Also ... if you hadn’t come, I shouldn’t be able to give you something I’ve got for you.
TOBY: A present?
JOHN: Yes. Only I can’t give it to you now ’cos you’re cross.
TOBY: Oh yes, you can.
JOHN: No!
TOBY: You’ll make me feel a beast for being cross ... where is it?
JOHN: Shan’t tell you.
TOBY: What is it?
[_He shakes his head._
How large is it?... Is it little?
JOHN: No.
TOBY: Is it big?
JOHN: Yes.
TOBY: How big?
JOHN: Middling.
TOBY: Please; I’m not cross any more. (_Whispering very prettily._) Where is it?
JOHN: Kiss. (_She does._) Turn round. (_She does._) On that chair.
[_She sees a milliner’s box, and going to it, undoes it, and extracts an attractive little frock._
TOBY: Oh, you dear! It’s the one I saw in Shaftesbury Avenue ... isn’t it sweet? ... it cost a terrible lot ... you are _awful_ to spend so much money on me. I love it. (_She puts it in a chair to look at it._) Think I’ll look nice in it?
JOHN: Shouldn’t be surprised.
[_She undoes a button or two in the frock she has on, it slips from her, and there she stands half-naked and unashamed in the scantiest and daintiest of under-garments. She is going to try on her present, but:_
JOHN: Come here.
[_She does. He puts his arms round her again; she snuggles her head on his shoulder and says softly:_
TOBY: Thank you. I’m sorry I was cross.
JOHN: Do you hate me?
TOBY: Sometimes.
JOHN: Do you hate me now?
TOBY: No.
JOHN: Do you love me?
[_For answer she looks up and her lips seek his--they kiss as lovers ... uncannily there is a shrill whistle in the room. TOBY disentangles herself with wide-open eyes._
JOHN: Sssssssh!
[_A second whistle ... and a third, louder ... then silence; downstairs the enraged MR. FREEMAN has banged the tube back on its hook._
TOBY: _What_ever is it?
JOHN: A speaking-tube.
TOBY: A _speaking_-tube? ... who taught it? ... what’s it say?
JOHN: All clear.
TOBY: Doesn’t it want to be answered?
JOHN: No. But it means we’re alone here--you and I.
TOBY: Oh!
[_She is near the speaking-tube; JOHN has gone to a big chair by the fire._
JOHN: Put the light out ... the switch is there by the door ... there, silly ... just in front of you ... that’s right.
[_She works the switch; the lights go out--except one softly shaded one._
TOBY: Oooooooh! Nice.
[_Meanwhile JOHN lights the gas-fire._
[_He holds a match where it should be and there is a terrific bang._
JOHN: Good lord! These gas fires’ll be the death of me.
[_He tries another match--this time with the normal and successful result. He throws a big cushion on the ground beside his chair now in the soft half-light; she comes and makes herself comfortable upon it, leaning against him. They are quiet ... he caressing her, she gazing into the fire._
TOBY: It’s a funny gas-stove ... Mabel Claridge has got one like that in her room ... that man gave her another ring yesterday ... must of cost _hundreds_. She says there is nothing in it ... I _don’t_ think.
[_Her conversation trails off ... the cushion is comfortable, the heat is pleasant through the flimsy things she has on, and she likes his fingers through her hair._
It’s lovely....
[_She leans luxuriously back towards him ... he kisses her._
JOHN: You dear----
TOBY: Thank you.
[_He puts an arm round her, and their heads close, they both for a moment gaze into the fire._
JOHN: You know ... I owe you an awful lot.
TOBY: Do you?
JOHN: Yes.
TOBY: How much?
JOHN: Let me think of a few of the things ... to begin with, everything on the piano’s yours.
TOBY (_screwing her head back_): What’s on the piano?
JOHN: All my songs.
TOBY: Oh _them_--yes?
JOHN: And you give me _peace_ ... like nobody else in the whole world gives me.
TOBY: Why?
JOHN: Oh, why!... ’Cos there’s nobody else in the whole world with whom I can be quiet and effortless with all the barriers down.
TOBY: Funny.
JOHN: Just because you can slip out of your frock, like you did, as if I wasn’t there and come close into my arms when I ask you, without any fuss.
TOBY (_her face very close to him--her very low voice a lover’s_): ’Course there isn’t any fuss--’cos I _want_ to come close into your arms.
JOHN: That’s the wonder of you.
[_Suddenly she shifts her position; kneeling on the cushion she faces him; she shakes her hair with a throw of her head; there is a queer fierce laugh in her eyes--he catches it._
JOHN: My dear, it’s such _fun_ loving you.
TOBY: Is it?
JOHN: However much you’re loving me I can always see the _fun_ of it dancing behind your eyes ... you’ve taught me that ... whatever happens I shall be eternally grateful.
TOBY: What _is_ going to happen?
JOHN: I don’t know.... I don’t want anything to happen any more ever.... I want to sit here like this for ever and ever Amen.
[_Down in the house there is a little noise--as it were a cloud the size of a man’s hand on the horizon--but it grows._
TOBY: What’s that?
JOHN: I don’t know.
TOBY: Somebody coming up----
JOHN: It can’t be.