Part 3
[_And the noise grows, as MR. FREEMAN falls up the attic stairs ... there is a knocking at the door._
Good God!
[_TOBY leaps up; MR. FREEMAN getting no answer comes in, and switches on the light.... Tableau! MR. FREEMAN, JOHN, TOBY._
MR. FREEMAN (_after an appalling hiatus of silence, failing to cope with this new situation and throwing the scented letter on to the table_): Yours.... Found it among mine.
JOHN (_rattled_): Er ... thanks.... (_Feebly_) This is my father, my father--Miss Clyde.
[_MR. FREEMAN glares speechless. TOBY is as if turned to stone._
MR. FREEMAN: I’ll see you about this in the morning. (_At the door he turns and starts to speak._) Frankie---- (_He gets TOBY in his vision again and collapses._) No, never mind ... I’ll see you in the morning.
[_Even after the door has shut behind him the situation is beyond words; TOBY is still motionless, but there is an ugly look in her face.... JOHN is the first to speak._
JOHN: I’m awfully sorry.
TOBY: I’m going home.
JOHN: I’m awfully sorry....
TOBY: My things are in there. (_She makes for his room._)
JOHN (_between her and the door_): Toby!
TOBY: Let me go ... I feel dirty all over.
JOHN: Let me come with you--please.
TOBY: All right, only let me get out of this bloody house.
[_She disappears into the bedroom ... he is staring into the fire when there is a timid knock at the door ... it is repeated._
JOHN (_hurrying to the door_): ... Hullo? Who’s there?
[_The door opens before he reaches it and GWEN comes in._
Hullo, Gwen.
GWEN: I say, did I put my foot in it downstairs with father? I’m sorry.
JOHN: Oh, that’s all right.
GWEN: I thought you wouldn’t mind me coming up--father told me you were alone.
JOHN: _Did_ he?
GWEN: Can Frankie come up?
JOHN: _Frankie!_
GWEN: She’s staying the night ... she telephoned home.
JOHN: Where is she?
FRANKIE (_just outside_): Here I am!
GWEN: It’s all right ... he’s all alone.
FRANKIE (_her head in at the door_): Can I come in?
[_JOHN gives a glance at the bedroom door which is shut ... and FRANKIE comes in._
John ... can I speak to you?
GWEN (_tactful_): I’ll be in my room.... I shan’t go to bed; I wish you’d give me a call later.
[_She is gone._
FRANKIE: I couldn’t go home without seeing you.
[_From the bedroom comes TOBY’S voice._
TOBY’S VOICE: John!... _John!_
FRANKIE (_going to the other door and calling_): Gwen!!
GWEN’S VOICE (_half-way down the attic stairs_): Hullo!
FRANKIE: Come back, please.
TOBY’S VOICE: I’m sorry I was cross ... it wasn’t your fault. I’ve got something to show you ... wait a sec....
[_GWEN comes back...._
GWEN: What is it?
[_Silence.... Then:----TOBY comes leaping into the room in JOHN’S pyjamas and strikes an attitude._
TOBY: TA--RA!!!!
[_Again she is struck still and dumb by these two strangers; after a moment’s silence, with a real big explosive angry “Damn,” she goes back into the bedroom.... JOHN follows her._
GWEN: I think it would be better if we went downstairs.
FRANKIE: I’m going to stay here ... have you ever seen her before?
GWEN: No.
FRANKIE: Do you know who she is?
GWEN: No.
FRANKIE: She’s common, isn’t she?
GWEN: I didn’t notice.... Frankie, I’m sure we’d better go downstairs.
FRANKIE: I’m not going.
[_JOHN comes in and begins hunting about._
GWEN: What is it?
JOHN: Have you seen a dress about?
FRANKIE: A dress! What sort of a dress?
JOHN: A little blue one.
FRANKIE (_holding it out at arm’s length_): This?
JOHN: Yes. Thank you.
[_He takes it from her and retires again with it.... GWEN hovers miserably. FRANKIE is rock-like._
GWEN (_by the door--persuasively_): Come on.
[_The other shakes her head.... JOHN comes back, shutting the door after him._
JOHN: ... I’d rather you didn’t say anything about it till she’s gone, please.
[_No answer. TOBY comes in dressed again._
TOBY: Show me down to the front door, please. (_She crosses at once to the other door; JOHN following._)
JOHN (_low to her_): I can’t come with you at once.
TOBY: I don’t want you to ... I don’t want you to come any more--ever.
JOHN: Toby!
GWEN (_by the open door into the bedroom_): Frankie!
[_She makes an enticing movement, and this time FRANKIE, more tractable, follows her into the bedroom._
TOBY: I don’t want ever to see you again.
JOHN: It’s been damnable for you ... you make me feel a brute.
TOBY: Damned good thing--you are.
JOHN: But who’ll look after you?
TOBY: Thanks, I can look after myself. Don’t _you_ worry ... show me downstairs in case I meet anybody....
JOHN: You’re leaving your new frock.
TOBY: Keep it ... you can give it to the next one.
[_She goes ... JOHN hesitates; then calls into his bedroom._
JOHN: Gwen.
GWEN’S VOICE: Yes?
JOHN: I’ll be back in a minute.
[_He follows TOBY.... GWEN comes back into the room._
GWEN: They’ve gone.
[_FRANKIE comes back; she is blazing._
FRANKIE: Oh, I _am_ angry. It makes you wonder whether there are any decent men in the world. I didn’t know John was a _cad_.... (_In a burst of rage_) Oh, the beast! the beast! Oh, it makes me furious.... While that--girl was waiting up here for him he wanted to kiss me.
GWEN: Did he?
FRANKIE: Yes.
GWEN: But _did_ he?
FRANKIE: What?
GWEN: Kiss you.
FRANKIE: No, he didn’t.
GWEN: Why not?
FRANKIE: I don’t know, he didn’t.
GWEN: Why didn’t he?
FRANKIE: He didn’t.
GWEN: You mean you wouldn’t let him?
FRANKIE: He came straight up here to her.... Oh, it’s so humiliating....
GWEN: D’you think it’s altogether his fault?
FRANKIE: Oh, I daresay she had plenty to do with it--you can easily see what sort she is.
GWEN (_ominously quiet_): I didn’t mean _her_.
FRANKIE (_with fine ironic scorn_): Oh, if it wasn’t _her_ fault, I suppose you’ll say it’s _mine_ next.
GWEN: Yes.
FRANKIE: Oh, don’t be ridiculous.
GWEN: If I was engaged to a man, and he wouldn’t let me kiss him, I’d jolly well go and kiss somebody else.
FRANKIE: Gwen!
GWEN: I would. There are times when you must be kissed.
FRANKIE: Gwen!
GWEN: Well, there are--don’t you ever feel like that?
FRANKIE: No; besides _her_; she’d kiss anyone.
GWEN: I don’t see why you should say that--perhaps they’re in love.
FRANKIE: Love! What he feels for her isn’t love.
GWEN: It’s what I’d want my man to feel for me ... if ever I have a man in love with me again that I want, I ... (_But FRANKIE is crying._) Oh, Frankie. (_She goes to her._) Don’t cry ... I didn’t mean what I said ... yes I did ... but not to say it like that ... Frankie ... it isn’t a bit simple.
FRANKIE: Yes, it is. Quite simple. He’s been a beast; nothing can alter that.
GWEN: I don’t know.
FRANKIE: I do.
GWEN: Such heaps of things are uncertain--that seemed certain----
[_JOHN comes back._
JOHN (_speaking at once_): Will you talk to me, Frankie?
FRANKIE: I suppose so.
JOHN: Leave us alone, Sis, for a bit.
GWEN: Are they up, downstairs?
JOHN: There’s a light in the drawing-room.
GWEN: Can I go in there (_indicating his bedroom_)? I should be cross-examined, and I feel all wrong for them downstairs to-night.
[_JOHN opens the bedroom door for her, and she passes into the room; he shuts the door after her ... there is a little silence between JOHN and FRANKIE._
JOHN (_quietly, almost tonelessly, speaking facts_): I met her during the war when I was on leave ... we had supper after the theatre, and I went back to her flat--and stayed there ... and I’ve been there, sometimes, ever since.
[_She doesn’t answer._
... I’m very sorry it should have happened like this.
FRANKIE: I never dreamed of anything like it.... I trusted you ... I hate being deceived ... it’s been going on all this time and I never knew it ... all the time you were with me.
JOHN (_quickly_): But I never made love to you ... it’s been absolutely apart from the rest of my life here. She’s never been here before.
FRANKIE: Hasn’t she?
JOHN: No.... They were two quite distinct relationships, mine with you--and with her.
FRANKIE: I should hope so!
JOHN: I’ve not made love to you, not because I haven’t wanted to, but because you didn’t want me to....
FRANKIE: I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t want to share that sort of thing, thank you.
JOHN: You wouldn’t have done.
FRANKIE: What do you mean?
JOHN: If you’d wanted to make love, I shouldn’t have wanted anybody else.
FRANKIE: That’s easy enough to say now.
JOHN: I’ve been wrong. I’ve let things drift.
FRANKIE: Why?
JOHN: All this time, I’ve hoped something would flare up between us, and then it would have been perfect--but it hasn’t.
FRANKIE: You say it’s my fault too!
JOHN: It’s nobody’s fault. We’re different--that’s all.
FRANKIE: Do you want to marry this girl?
JOHN: No.
FRANKIE: I don’t understand----
JOHN: Frankie, don’t cry.
FRANKIE (_through her tears_): And this morning I was talking to mother about furnishing ... and the little house ... it’s arranged, nearly ... what’ll everybody say? Oh, it’s too bad of you!
JOHN: I’m awfully sorry; I ought to have had it out before; I’m sorry; don’t cry....
FRANKIE: Don’t talk then.
[_But she cannot stop the tears and escapes from the room. The unhappy JOHN remaining, throws himself into the depths of his chair; there is a knock at the door._
JOHN: Come in.
[_It is the little housemaid._
ROSIE: Please, Mr. John, there’s a lady to see you.
JOHN: Oh, my God! Where?
ROSIE: Downstairs--in the morning-room. She’s waiting.
JOHN: I’ll come.
ROSIE: ... Please, Mr. John.
JOHN: Yes?
ROSIE: About that blow-pipe ... it wasn’t my fault ... ’e blowed; I couldn’t stop him.
JOHN: That’s all right, Rosie.... In the morning-room?
ROSIE: Yes, please, Mr. John.
[_JOHN goes out--ROSIE following ... the silence in the room is broken by GWEN’S voice from the bedroom._
GWEN’S VOICE: You’re very quiet! ... can I come back? Can I...? John!... Frankie!...
[_GWEN’S head comes round the corner of the door ... and is so surprised at the emptiness that she apologises to it._
Oh, I beg your pardon!... I mean.... (_She comes into the room with a laugh._)...
[_COLIN comes up from downstairs._
COLIN: Hullo.
GWEN: Hullo.
COLIN: I was told I’d find you up here.
GWEN: Do you know where John is?
COLIN: I met him on the stairs. Margaret refused to come up till she’d heard from his own lips that we were wanted: I came up.
GWEN: ... Yes.
COLIN: I’ve got those tickets.
GWEN: Oh, thank you.
COLIN: For to-morrow night.
GWEN: Thank you.
[_Unexpectedly there is an awkward little silence between them ... it grows uncomfortably._
GWEN: ... Won’t you have a cigarette?
COLIN (_gratefully_): Thank you.
[_He takes and lights one; she does the same; the horrid little silence hasn’t been killed._
GWEN: It’s a long time since I went to the theatre. It _is_ kind of you.
COLIN: I’m looking forward to to-morrow night.
GWEN: So am I.
[_The door opens cautiously and MARGARET HEAL appears; a woman of about thirty-five; attractive without being strikingly beautiful or pretty; she is looking her best now, in evening dress and cloak._
MARGARET: Anybody here?
GWEN: Hullo, Margaret. Come along in. What have you done with John?
MARGARET: He’s walking round the square.
COLIN: Sounds mathematical.
MARGARET: Yes, it’s impossible.
COLIN: Why?
MARGARET: It’s raining; and he’s got no coat, and slippers. (_To COLIN._) You ought to go and fetch him in.
GWEN: It would be kind of you.
COLIN: Certainly I will; if I may come back.
GWEN: Of course.
[_COLIN goes._
MARGARET: There’s been trouble; I’m sure you don’t want us.
GWEN: Oh yes I do. I’m glad you came.
MARGARET: It’s dreadfully late to call; but Colin was so anxious to come back here.
GWEN: Was he?
MARGARET: Something’s happened to him since dinner.
GWEN: Oh?
MARGARET: He’s unusually easy enough to manage; to-night he was as obstinate as a pig. He would come; said he wanted to see John particularly. And there was only the most expensive box left for to-morrow night. He would get it. It cost him about twelve guineas. I wonder who he’s going to take.
[_She has taken off her cloak. GWEN takes it._
Thank you.
[_MARGARET sits._
What are you doing with yourself these days?
GWEN: Nothing special.
MARGARET: Have you kept on your nursing at all, since the war?
GWEN: No. And then I only ran errands for the nurses.
MARGARET: Did you like it?
GWEN: Rather. It was something outside home I wasn’t cross-examined about. I often envy _you_.
MARGARET: _Me?_
GWEN: John often tells me about you, and your office.
MARGARET: Oh!
GWEN: It’s a kind of a literary agency, isn’t it?
MARGARET: That’s the sort of thing.
GWEN: It must have been awfully adventurous--starting on your own.
MARGARET: I had a good training as a secretary. Then an election came and I had a girl to help me, and I found I could boss her. So I got three girls and bossed them--made them work for me, instead of me working for somebody else. Now I’ve got ten in the office--and several young men.
GWEN: It must be splendid to have built up something like that for yourself.
MARGARET: It’s very interesting. The girls are interesting, too; they bring all their troubles to me.
GWEN: What sort of troubles?
MARGARET: Men--mostly!
GWEN: Are you a good sort of person to bring your troubles to?
MARGARET: I’ve had some of my own--so perhaps I am.
[_FRANKIE comes in._
GWEN (_surprised_): Hullo, Frankie! ... you know Margaret.
FRANKIE: Of course.
MARGARET: Good evening.
FRANKIE: I thought I’d go to bed, and then I thought I wouldn’t. I should just lie and think; and I heard you come up.
[_The other two have nothing to say. She goes on; to MARGARET:_
Do you know what’s happened to-night?
MARGARET: Vaguely.
FRANKIE: Did you know this girl?
MARGARET: Vaguely.
FRANKIE: Everybody seems to think it’s my fault!
GWEN: Frankie! I didn’t say....
FRANKIE: Yes you did. So did John.
[_Again a silence; again she continues:_
I’ve been crying; I’ve got that over, now I’ve got used to the idea. John says he doesn’t love me.
[_Again they have nothing to say; but she encourages them._
You can say what you like; I shan’t cry again.
GWEN (_gently_): He did: I don’t think he does now.
FRANKIE (_unexpectedly defiant_): Well, I’m quite sure I don’t love him! I was sobbing away upstairs, but I found it was for the drawing-room curtains I’m not going to buy; not for him. Of course, I’m angry and hurt at being deceived. And I don’t see why I shouldn’t be!... But you can say what you like.
GWEN (_suddenly_): Margaret!
MARGARET: Yes?
GWEN: If I ask you some questions--things that’ll help me if I know--will you answer them?
MARGARET: If I can.
GWEN: You’re not married?
MARGARET: No.
GWEN: Have you ever let anybody love you? You know what I mean. Words are difficult--I don’t want to be frightened by them.... Have you?
MARGARET: Yes.
GWEN: Just one man, or more than one?
MARGARET: More than one.
GWEN: Tell me about it, with _all_ of them, please!
[_A little smile breaks on MARGARET’S lips, and the tiniest laugh. Perhaps the audience laughs louder; so much the better, for GWEN answers----_
GWEN: Don’t laugh, please. I don’t mean it to be anything to laugh at. I ask because I want to know. Not about you, but about love. I’m ashamed to be as old as I am, and not know--You have knowledge, and I haven’t.... So will you tell me, please?
MARGARET: Ask away.
GWEN: When you didn’t know anything at all, how did it first happen?
[_A pause. Then:_
MARGARET (_beginning slowly in recollection_): A man I was doing some work for asked me to join a walking party in the Lakes. We started all together. Half-way through, he and I branched off to walk across a pass and meet the others on the other side. I don’t know whether he meant to meet them. I meant to. But we didn’t.
GWEN: What sort of a man was he?
MARGARET: An enthusiast about freedom.
GWEN: How old?
MARGARET: About thirty. We walked among mountains and talked a great deal, and when it was getting dark, we reached an inn. And there we had dinner, and there we stopped.
GWEN: Did you love him very much?
MARGARET: No. I was curious.
GWEN: Yes.
MARGARET: It’s queer. We hadn’t got love, which nowadays seems to me the only justification--yet I’ve never had any regrets.
FRANKIE: Haven’t you?
MARGARET: We were full of air and sky, and ideas for making the world better; probably very silly, but quite genuine. And he was very gentle and understanding.
FRANKIE: What happened when you _did_ meet the others?
MARGARET: We didn’t. We walked in the other direction for a week. Then we came back to London.
FRANKIE: And then?
MARGARET: Then he fell in love with another girl. I daresay he taught her what he taught me. That seems to be his mission in life!
FRANKIE (_indignant_): That’s what always happens--weren’t you furious and ashamed?
MARGARET: I was awfully pleased with myself! I was living in a boarding-house in Bloomsbury. I couldn’t afford a room of my own, or to go out in the evenings. I used to have to sit in the drawing-room with a lot of old spinster ladies, knitting and playing patience and talking scandal. Before the Lakes, I used to think I should go mad, sometimes; but afterwards, when I looked round at them all, there was a sort of triumphant glee in me. I used to say to myself, “I know more about life than you do. Poor old things!”
GWEN: That must have been topping.
MARGARET: It was rather.
GWEN: ... Who was the next?
MARGARET: I fell in love; so it’s not easy to talk about. I lived with him. For three years. The best time of my life. That’s all.
GWEN: D’you mind my asking?
MARGARET: Of course not. Most people like talking about themselves.
GWEN: Why didn’t you marry?
MARGARET (_painfully_): We meant to get married ... when we could afford children. And then I ended it.
FRANKIE: You?
GWEN: How?
MARGARET: At least it was my fault. My man was away; and a boy fell in love with me; it was in the middle of the war when it seemed it would go on for ever. We met at a friend’s house; he was in khaki; at a house party. And then he came to have tea with me at my flat.
GWEN: Were you in love with _him_?
MARGARET: I couldn’t have married him. But he was very strong, and good-looking ... and going back to the front. They knew what they were going back to, and they laughed. He was the first man younger than I was who told me that he loved me; and on his last night in England, as if he was my child, I wanted to give him everything he asked for. And he asked for me and--I was glad.
GWEN: I’m glad you were. Did he stop at your flat?
MARGARET: We went to an hotel. We had dinner in the West End. Across the little table--with a shaded light on it--I kept catching him looking at me.... One evening when nothing mattered but our happiness. Then he went back to France, and I went home and told my man--and my life smashed.
GWEN: Didn’t he understand?
MARGARET: Oh yes, he understood. We went to the Queen’s Hall the night I told him, and when we got home talked till five in the morning; it didn’t smash all at once--it just made a difference.
GWEN: I don’t understand.
MARGARET: Nor do I--altogether. _He_ had an affair soon afterwards. You see, he’d given up everything of that sort for me, and I didn’t ... so he didn’t ... it broke up our life together. Freedom’s a devastating thing ... a few hours I shall never forget, and a year of hell afterwards, and I’ve never really made up my mind whether I’m glad or sorry.... (_To FRANKIE_) Do you disapprove of me very much?
FRANKIE: Disapprove? No. But I don’t think it’s right.
GWEN (_a quick challenge_): What’s right?
FRANKIE: When I marry I shall have kept myself for him, whoever he is. And I hope he will, too.
MARGARET: Oh, my dear!
GWEN (_alert_): Why did you say “Oh, my dear” like that?
MARGARET: Another young man fell in love with me. (_She turns to FRANKIE with a smile._) I’m sorry! I know it sounds _dreadful_ saying them one after the other, quickly, like this! But there was a year of being lonely--desperately lonely. And it hurt the young man, too; so I let him take me away.
[_A pause._
GWEN: ... Well?
MARGARET (_to FRANKIE_): He was one of your ideal young men.
FRANKIE: Yes?
MARGARET: And not only innocent; ignorant. He knew his own needs, vaguely; not mine, at all. I suffered from his ignorance.... But he taught me something.
GWEN: What?
MARGARET: Why so many married women go on regarding love-making as horrid.
GWEN: Why?
MARGARET: They’re married to men who don’t know how to make love. You see, without gentleness and sensitiveness and consideration--and much that comes from knowledge, what ought to be complete harmony can be very disharmonious, what ought to be utterly satisfying to body and soul can be utterly nerve-racking and unsatisfactory.... Somebody said that a man who can’t make love is like an Orang-Utang playing the fiddle.... It wants learning--the fiddle.
FRANKIE: It seems so horrid to make that part of it so important.
MARGARET: I daresay it’s not so important if it’s right. It’s all-important if it’s wrong.
GWEN: How?
MARGARET: If you can’t make love beautiful for your man, sooner or later, he’ll go to someone who can; or he’ll want to, which is as bad.
FRANKIE: Are you happy?
MARGARET: I suppose not, really.
FRANKIE: What do you want?
MARGARET: A man of my own, and children.
FRANKIE: Doesn’t that prove your way’s wrong?
MARGARET: I’m not saying it’s right or wrong. Gwen asked me. I’ve told you.
GWEN: Thank you.
[_COLIN and JOHN come in._
Come in and sit down.
MARGARET: If she asks any questions, don’t you answer!
COLIN: What sort of questions?
MARGARET: Don’t ask me.
GWEN: I wish somebody’d tell me what love is.
JOHN (_sotto voce, getting out of his wet coat, disappearing into his bedroom with it_): A damned nuisance.
COLIN: _I’ll_ tell you.
GWEN (_eagerly_): I should like to know what _you_ think.
[_Thus challenged, COLIN collects himself; he joins the group round the fire._
COLIN: As one gets older, and loses one’s illusions----
MARGARET: They’re off.
COLIN: And realises half one’s life has gone, and there’s an end to it some day, one is apt to get lonely. A lost atom in an infinity of blackness. In that blackness is despair. Only one thing can dispel it--Love. Real love. None of your free sort, John!
GWEN: What d’you mean?
COLIN: I mean that love between two people that doesn’t need anything else, that won’t tolerate anything else, that’s lasting and tyrannical and jealous, is the only kind that’s worth while.
JOHN (_reappearing_): What he really means is, he’s getting middle-aged.
COLIN: Real love isn’t free.
JOHN: Now listen, Grandpa; you’re nearly forty.
COLIN: Shut up.