ACT IISCENE: Sitting-room at55Acacia Avenue. The folding doors between front and back parlour are opened, with red curtains looped up. The front parlour, a glimpse of which is visible between curtains, is in full light and a corner of the piano can be seen. The furniture in this room is of the imitation Sheraton variety. There is an ornamental overmantel with photographs and vases, and a marble clock in the middle of the mantelpiece.Someone is playing the piano, andLILY,standing beside it, is singing in a sweet but rather weak voice, “Sing me to sleep.” No one is in the back parlour, but through the curtains can be seenMORTON LESLIE,lolling on mantelpiece;SYBIL FROST,a pretty fair-haired girl, much given to laughing at everything;PERCY MASSEY,a good-looking, somewhat weak youth of perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two, sitting very close toSYBIL,andTENNANT,standing in the bay window.CHARLEYcomes in quietly through the side door into the back parlour during the singing. WhenLILYcomes to the refrain of the song, everyone exceptCHARLEYjoins in. He stays in the back parlour and sitting down in the shadow, lights a cigarette.LILYsits down amid a good deal of clapping and words of admiration.SYBIL.I do love that song.PERCY.Now you sing something.SYBIL.[with a giggle.] I couldn’t really—you know I couldn’t.PERCY.Oh, yes, you can—that nice little coon thing you sang at the Richards.SYBIL.I’ve got a cold.MAGGIE.[crossing from piano.] Of course you have.SYBIL.[laughing.] But it’s quite true. Really. And I couldn’t really sing after Mrs. Wilson.LILY.Sybil! Do sing,please.LESLIE.We’re all waiting, Miss Frost.SYBIL.Oh, please—I can’t. Let someone else sing first.MAGGIEcomes to the doorway and catches sight ofCHARLEY.She comes in. In the front parlourSYBILcan be seen still resisting, whileLILY,LESLIE,andPERCY MASSEYbeseech her.MAGGIE.You here—all alone?CHARLEY.’Um.MAGGIE.What’s the matter?CHARLEY.Nothing.MAGGIE.Why didn’t you come into the front room?CHARLEY.I can hear quite as well here.MAGGIE.Got the hump?CHARLEY.What for? Head’s a bit nasty, so I’m smoking it off.MAGGIE.It isn’t that—it’s all this about Tennant.CHARLEY.[irritably.] I’m not grieving over him, if that’s what you mean.MAGGIE.As if I did! and as if you’d confess if you were. Are you sick of everything?CHARLEY.Sick! I’d cut the whole beastly show tomorrow if— [He stops suddenly.]LILY’Svoice can be heard distinctly from the front room.LILY.Well, we’ll ask Mr. Tennant to sing first.SYBIL.Oh, I can’t sing, really—CHARLEY.Why doesn’t the girl sing when she’s asked?MAGGIE.She says she has a cold. [She laughs a little.]CHARLEY.Rot! Affectation, I call it.MAGGIE.Percy’s awfully smitten, isn’t he?CHARLEY.[surprised.] With her?MAGGIE.Of course. But you haven’t noticed that. Lily’s been arranging it.CHARLEY.But he’s such a kid.MAGGIE.He’s twenty-two.CHARLEY.What’s that?MAGGIE.Lots of men marry at twenty-two.CHARLEY.More fools they! Getting tied up before they’ve seen anything.MAGGIE.[thoughtfully.] I can never understand why a man gets married. He’s got so many chances to see the world and do things—and then he goes and marries and settles down and is a family man before he’s twenty-four.CHARLEY.It’s a habit.MAGGIE.If I were a man I wouldn’t stay in England another week. I wouldn’t be a quill-driver all my life.CHARLEYgets up and walks restlessly up and down the room.If I were a man—CHARLEY.Men can’t do everything.MAGGIE.I say, don’t you think it’s fine of Mr. Tennant to throw up everything and take the risk?CHARLEY.I’d do the same if . . .LILY.[coming forward a little.] Where’s Charley? Oh, never mind, I daresay he’s got a lantern and is looking for worms or something. Are you ready, Mr. Tennant?MAGGIE.I wonder what Lil would say if you did!CHARLEYstops dead and looks atMAGGIE.CHARLEY.If Idid?What are you talking about?MAGGIE.Why shouldn’t you?CHARLEY.Why shouldn’t I? Aren’t there a thousand reasons?MAGGIE.There’s Lily, certainly—but . . .CHARLEY.She wouldn’t understand. She’d think I was deserting her.A pause.But that’s not all. I might manage her—I don’t know—but—you see, I’ve got a berth I can stay in all my life . . .TENNANTstarts singing the first verse of “Off to Philadelphia.”It’s like throwing up a dead cert. And then. . . .MAGGIE.Itwouldbe a splash.CHARLEY.Yes—and think of all your people? What’d they say? They’d say I was running away from Lil—of course, it would seem like it. . . .Another pause.It’s impossible. I might never get anything to do—and then—His voice is suddenly drowned as the front room party sing the chorus “With my Knapsack,” etc. Knock at front door.I—MAGGIE.I believe I heard a knock.She goes out in corridor asTENNANTcommences the second verse.CHARLEYsits on the edge of the table watching and listening. The door opens andMAGGIEenters, followed byFENWICK.FENWICKis a man of middle age, short and slight, with a quiet, rather crushed manner.MAGGIE.Mr. Fenwick didn’t want to come in when he heard all the singing. He thought we had a party.She goes through curtains.CHARLEY.Oh, it’s nothing—a sort of family sing-song.FENWICK.Miss Massey would have me come in—but really I’d rather come some other—CHARLEY.Stuff! Sit down. I’ll pull the curtains if it’s anything special you’ve come about. I thought it was perhaps over those geranium cuttings. Afterwards, if you feel like it, we’ll go and join them. [Draws curtains and turns up light.] Freddy Tennant—you know him, don’t you—he’s going to seek his fortune in the Colonies.FEN.Is he?CHARLEY.Yes, and we’ll drink his health. What’s up?FEN.I didn’t see you at the train to-day.CHARLEY.No, you were late. I came on with Malcolm.FEN.The chief sent for me.CHARLEY.Wasn’t a rise, I suppose?FEN.Do I look like it? It’s the other thing.CHARLEY.Docking?FEN.[nodding first and then speaking slowly.] He said he’d sent for me as senior of my department. The company has had a bad year and they can’t give the usual rises.CHARLEY.None?FEN.None. Haven’t you had a letter?CHARLEY.No. I say, have I got the sack?FEN.No, you haven’t. But they’re offering you the same alternative they offered me—stay on at less—or go.CHARLEY.[walking up and down.] What are you going to do?FEN.What can I do? Stay, of course—what else is there?CHARLEY.Sit down under it?FEN.What else?Postman’s knock.CHARLEY.There’s the postman. Wait a bit.He goes out R. and the voices in the other room can be distinctly heard laughing, while someone is playing a waltz tune very brilliantly.CHARLEYcomes back with a letter in his hand, closes door and music dies down.CHARLEY.Here it is. [He opens and reads it, then throws it on the table.]FENWICK.A bit of a blow, isn’t it?CHARLEY.I didn’t expect it. Did you?FENWICK.Not until last week when Morgan started making enquiries as to salaries, et cetera. Then I guessed.CHARLEY.We can’t do anything.FENWICK.Of course not.CHARLEY.But I say, you know, it’s all rot about a bad year. Don’t expect we’ve been exactly piling it up, but it’s nothing to grumble about.FENWICK.That doesn’t affect us, anyway. We’ve got to do as we’re told. I fancy old Morgan is hit, too. He was sugary, but of course he had to obey the instructions of the directors and so on.CHARLEY.It’s no good swearing at him.FENWICK.It’s no good swearing at anybody. What’s a Board? Where is it?The curtains part andLILYappears in the opening.LILY.Charley—are you there? Are you never coming back? Oh, Mr. Fenwick!FENWICKrises; shake hands.FENWICK.Good evening. I’m afraid I’m an awful nuisance, but I just called to see your husband about a little business.LILY.You’ll stay to supper, won’t you? You andCharley can sit and talk business the whole time. I’m afraid Charley doesn’t like music very much—do you, dear?CHARLEY.Oh, sometimes.LILY.[big laugh from behind curtains.] You should hear Mr. Leslie. He’s so funny, he’s been giving Mr. Tennant advice what to do when he’s a lonely bachelor in Australia. He made usroarwith laughter.Goes back laughing.CHARLEY.Silly ass!FENWICK.[startled.] What?CHARLEY.That chap Leslie! It’d do him good to go to Australia for a bit. He’d stick to his berth if they docked his screw to ten bob. He’s got no pride in him.FENWICK.Well, we—at least, I—can’t say much—I’m going to stay on. You, too, I suppose.CHARLEY.[with a sort of defiance.] Why should I? What’s to hinder me leaving? Why shouldn’t I go to Morgan and say, “Look here—just tell those directors that I won’t stand it! I’m not going to be put up or down—take this or that—at their will and pleasure.”There is a burst of laughter from the inner room.FENWICK.That’s all very well—and if you’ve got something else—CHARLEY.[fiercely.] I haven’t—not an idea of one—but why should that hinder? Look at Tennant, he’s chucked his job and no one wanted to take off anything.FENWICK.[quite undisturbed.] Tennant? Oh, he’s going to the Colonies? Very risky. I nearly went there myself once.CHARLEY.Why didn’t you quite?FENWICK.Various things. All my people were against it. Oh, well, what was the good of going? It was only a passing fancy, I daresay. Once youleave a place the chances are you won’t get another. There are so many of us. . . .CHARLEY.Of course, it’s safe and it’s wise and it’s sensible and all that—but it’sdamnable.FENWICK.It’s come suddenly to you—I’ve almost got used to the idea. [With a little laugh.] You do, you know, after a little. You’re young. . . . [With sigh.] Well, there it is. [A pause.] But I’d looked for that rise. It’ll make a difference. [Pulling himself together.] However, it can’t be helped. We’ve got something left and I’m safe, and that’s more than a good many people can say. I’m sorry I came tonight, Wilson.LESLIE’Svoice can be heard, shouting out a comic song.[Smiling.] Life doesn’t seem to worry him.CHARLEY.Won’t you stay and have supper?FENWICK.Thanks, no. I don’t feel exactly sociable.CHARLEY.[with a short laugh.] Neither do I, old chap. Fact is, I was feeling a bit off when you came.FENWICK.You’re a little restless, but it’ll work off. Look at me. I felt like that once.They go out.The curtains are pulled wide andLESLIEandPERCY MASSEYenter.TENNANTcan be seen in the front parlour.LESLIE.May we interrupt? [Looking around.] Empty was the cradle.Re-enterCHARLEY.Where’s the business?CHARLEY.Fenwick’s been, but he’s just gone.LESLIE.Fenwick? Wasn’t cheerful company, was he?CHARLEY.[crossly.] What’s the matter with him?LESLIE.He never is, that’s all.CHARLEY.He isn’t exactly boisterous. He nearly emigrated once, he tells me.TENNANT.[coming forward.] Why didn’t he quite?LESLIE.Not enough devil in him. Hundreds of ’em almost go.CHARLEY.Did you?LESLIE.[with energy.] I’m comfortable enough where I am. I’ve been telling this chap here he’s a fool, but he won’t believe me. He says he’d rather be a fool in the Colonies than a wise man here. Don’t know what he means quite, but it sounds rather smart. [Waving his pipe oracularly as he faces the three men.] I’ve known lots of chaps who’ve wanted to go. The guv’nor is unpleasant or there’s too much overtime or they get jealous of their girl or something of that sort and off they must go. I’ve known a few who went—and sorry they were, too. You can’t do anything out there. Read the emigration books, read your papers. Failure all along the line. Market overcrowded. Only capitalists need apply—the Colonies don’t want you—CHARLEY.Neither does England—LESLIE.Of course not but [waving his arm impressively] but you’re here and got something. That’s the whole point. My advice is—stick where you are. Tennant’s a stupid ass to give up a decent berth; he deserves to fail. Of course, we should all like to see the world.Ishould—TENNANT.It’s more than that.CHARLEY.Yes, yes, you don’t understand. It isn’t the idea of travelling—it’s because you want to feel—oh! [He stretches out his arms.] I don’t suppose you ever feel so—LESLIE.Can’t say I did.TENNANT.Aren’t you ever sick of the thing, Leslie?CHARLEY.And don’t you ever want to pitch all the ledgers into the dustbin and burn the stools?LESLIE.Never—though I’ve met many that have. I tell you, it’s a good thing to have a safe berth nowadays. Many fellows would only be too glad to pick up Tennant’s berth—or yours, Wilson. Think of the crowds that will answer the advertisement at Molesey’s— Last week our firm wanted a man to do overtime work, and they don’t pay too high a rate—I can tell you. They had five hundred and fifteen applications—five hundred and fifteen! Think of that! And that’s what would happen to you if you went, Wilson, and that’ll be the end of Tennant. Sorry to be unpleasant—but truth—TENNANT.But there’s room on the land—LESLIE.Land! What on earth can a bally clerk do with a spade? He’d be trying to stick it behind his ear—Shout of laughter fromPERCY MASSEY.He’s got no muscle—he’s got a back that would break if he stooped—he’d always have a cold in his nose—CHARLEY.Shut it, Leslie. You can’t call Tennant exactly anæmic. And look at this. [He strips off his coat and turns back his shirt sleeves to display his arms.] How’s that?TENNANTlooks on with interest.LESLIEcomes near and pinchesCHARLEY’Sarm, whilePERCY MASSEYlooks on smilingly.LESLIE.All right for a back garden. I suppose you think you’re an authority on the land question ’cause you grow sweet peas?CHARLEY.[digging his hands into the pockets without turning down his sleeves again.] I don’t think anything of the kind. What I do know is that if I had a chance I could farm land with anybody.Doyou think I chose this beastly business of quill-driving because it’s the best work I know. Do you?LESLIE.I don’t suppose you chose it at all. Your father chose it for you.PERCY.[toCHARLEY.] Well, I say, what’s the matter with it?CHARLEY.You wait till you’re a few years older.LESLIE.Wilson’s caught the land fever. Take up an allotment—that’ll cure you. Your garden isn’t big enough. Have you got that map, Tennant?TENNANT.It’s in my room. Shall we go up?LESLIE.Is there a fire?TENNANT.No.LESLIE.Bring it down, there’s a good chap. I like to take things comfortable. I’ll wait down here.TENNANTgoes out R.LESLIErises; goes back to the front room.PERCY.I say, Charley—CHARLEY.Well?PERCY.I’ve got a rise.CHARLEY.Congratulations—wish I had.PERCY.Foster’s given me Beckett’s job.CHARLEY.And Beckett?PERCY.Well, he’s got the sack, you know. It’s a bit rough on him, but I couldn’t help it, could I?CHARLEY.I suppose you’re doing it cheaper?PERCY.That’s about the line. I’m awfully sorry for Beckett. He’s not young, and it’s awfully hard to get anything when you’re middle-aged.CHARLEY.So I believe. Well, anyhow, you’re in luck—aren’t you?PERCY.Yes, it’s sooner than I thought.They sit in silence.TENNANTre-enters, and goes into inner room.I say, Charley, what did you start on?CHARLEY.Eh? What d’ye mean?PERCY.You—and—and Lily—you know.CHARLEYlooks at him steadily.CHARLEY.Oh, that’s it, is it?PERCY.You didn’t begin with a house, of course.CHARLEY.You know as well as I do that we had three rooms—and jolly small ones.PERCY.Still you were comfortable.CHARLEY.It was warm—winter and summer.PERCY.It wasn’t very expensive?CHARLEY.You have to choose your housekeeper carefully.PERCY.If you’re going to chaff—CHARLEY.Don’t be an idiot. You’ve now got ninety, I suppose. You can manage on that.PERCY.You really think so?CHARLEY.I know from experience.PERCY.You don’t ask who the lady is?CHARLEY.Sybil is a pretty little girl.PERCY.Well, I suppose you did guess a bit.CHARLEY.Not me! Maggie and Lil did it between them.PERCY.Did it?CHARLEY.Made the match—Maggie told me.PERCY.[indignantly.] They did nothing of the kind. I met Sybil here and . . .CHARLEY.’Um—um!PERCY.We just came together—it was bound to be.There is a sound of laughter outside andLILYandSYBILare seen carrying in cakes and lemonade.CHARLEY.Sheispretty—PERCY.Yes, in rather an unusual—CHARLEY.But so are others.PERCY.I say, old man.CHARLEY.Well, aren’t they? I suppose you won’t listen to advice.PERCY.What about?CHARLEY.You’re too young to marry.PERCY.I’m twenty-three. So were you when you married.CHARLEY.I was too young.PERCY.Do you mean. . . .CHARLEY.[impatiently.] Oh, don’t look so scandalised. No, I’m not tired of Lily. It’s not that at all—but, are you satisfied to be a clerk all your life?PERCY.I say, Tennant’s upset you. Of course I’m satisfied to be a clerk.CHARLEY.Butareyou?PERCY.[impatiently.] Don’t I say so?CHARLEY.Have you ever felt a desire to kick your hat into the fire? Have you?PERCY.No! Not yet!CHARLEY.Not yet. There you are—but you will. Don’t you ever want to see anything more of the world—did you ever have that feeling?PERCY.[a little thoughtfully.] Well, I did once. I wanted to go out with Robinson. But the dad wouldn’t consent. It was a bit risky, you know, and this job came along—and so I wouldn’t go.CHARLEY.Did Robinson come back?PERCY.No, he’s got a decent little place out there.CHARLEY.They don’t all fail, then?PERCY.Of course not—but lots do. I might be one of those.CHARLEY.Well, the thing is if you ever thought of doing anything now’s your time. You can’t do it afterwards. Take my tip and don’t get engaged yet. You’re too young to decide such an important question.PERCY.No younger than you were—and I must say. . . .CHARLEY.Don’t be so touchy—can’t you see I’m talking to you for your good?PERCY.I think you’re crazed.CHARLEY.[sharply.] Why am I crazed, as you call it? Isn’t it because I know a little what your life is going to be? Haven’t I gone backwards and forwards to the city every day of my life since I was sixteen and am I crazed because I suggest it’s a bit monotonous? [Going close toPERCYand putting his hand on his shoulder solemnly.] I’m not saying she isn’t the right girl for you—I’m only suggesting that perhaps she isn’t! She’s pretty and she’s handy. . . .PERCY.I say! I won’t have that.CHARLEY.Don’t. Pass it over. It’s just this—think—and don’t marry the first pretty girl and live in three rooms because your brother-in-law did it.PERCY.She wasn’t—the first pretty girl. . . .SYBIL.[appearing at opening and smiling demurely.] Mrs. Wilson says—Oh, Mr. Wilson, have you been fighting?CHARLEY.[suddenly remembering that he has his coat off.] I beg your pardon. [He pulls it on hastily.] [ToPERCY.] Remember!PERCY.[with his eyes onSYBIL.] Rot! [Goes back withSYBIL.]LILY.[coming towards him.] Who said anything about fighting? Now I suppose you’ve been arguing with everybody and shouted at them. You do get so cross when you argue—don’t you, dear? Supper is quite ready. I sent Sybil to tell you. . . .CHARLEY.Sybil’s feeding Percy. She’s got all her work cut out.LILY.How rude you are! Do you know, I’m quite angry with you. You’ve hardly been in the whole evening.CHARLEY.Fenwick. . . .LILY.Yes, I saw him. He looks so lifeless, don’t you think?CHARLEY.He says I shall grow like him.LILY.What an idea! Why, how could you?TheCOMPANYmove about the two rooms, theMENhanding refreshments to theWOMEN—theyALLcome more forward.LESLIE.What do you think—? I lost the 8.15 this morning!CHARLEY.Should have thought it would have waited for you.LESLIE.I left the house at the usual time and there was a confounded woman at the station with about five trunks and a paper parcel, who took up the whole doorway.Much laughing fromSYBILand an encouraging smile fromLILY.By the time I got over the train was gone. Never did such a thing in my life before.LILY.Youhaven’t sung to us, Charley, dear.MAGGIE.He’s tired.LILY.Not too tired for that, are you?SYBIL.Oh, do, Mr. Wilson, I know you sing splendidly. Per— Mr. Massey told me so.PERCY.S’sh! don’t give me away—he’s my brother-in-law.CHARLEY.Not to-night, Lil—I—I’m a little hoarse.LILY.That’s being out in the garden at all hours.LESLIE.Don’t say that, Mrs. Wilson. Your husband wants to go as a farmer in the Colonies—and you’ll discourage him.LILY.You silly man, Mr. Leslie. [ToCHARLEY.] You must have something hot when you go to bed, dear.LESLIE.I love being a little ill. My wife’s an awfully good nurse.SYBIL.I believe you put it on sometimes, Mr. Leslie.LESLIE.Well, do you know—I believe I do. Ladies won’t put their pretty fingers round your neck for nothing.But if you have a little hoarseness—not too much to be really unpleasant—or a headache is a very good thing—it is delightful—I always say to myself:“O woman—in our hours of ease—Uncertain, coy and hard to please,When pain and anguish wring the brow,A ministering angel thou.”LILY.We ought to have “Auld Lang Syne”—TENNANT.Please don’t.LILY.It would be so nice for you to remember. [Going up L.] Yes, we must. Come. [She puts out her hands and makes themALLform a ring, with hands crossed and all round table.]TENNANTandCHARLEYjoin most reluctantly and are not seen to sing a note.There! That’s better.SYBIL.Now I must go, Mrs. Wilson.LILY.Must you really? Come and get your things.They go out.A tapping is heard at the window in the near room—MAGGIEruns and opens it.VOICE.Is my husband there, Mrs. Wilson?LESLIE.Y—es. I’m here. Coming, darling.SYBILandLILYre-enter R.LESLIE.My wife has sent for me home, Mrs. Wilson.MAGGIE.Are you going over the wall?SYBIL.Oh, do, Mr. Leslie—I should love to see you.LESLIE.If it will give you any pleasure it shall be done, though I am not at my best on the fence.They all crowd round—he shakes hands, smiling profusely, and disappears through the window.VOICE.Mind the flower-pot. No—not there—that’s the dustbin. Not the steps.There is a great shout to announce his safe arrival.LESLIE.Safe!SYBIL.I do think he is so funny!LILY.Yes, isn’t he? Are you going by ’bus?PERCY.I’mgoing Miss Frost’s way.SYBIL.[much surprised.] Are you really?MAGGIE.How extraordinary!Much kissing betweenSYBIL,LILYandMAGGIE.SYBILandPERCYgo out.LILY.She’s so sweet, isn’t she? And Percy’s so awfully gone.MAGGIE.[as they start clearing away the dishes.] Very. So he was over Daisy Mallock and Ruby Denis—and who’s the other girl with the hair?LILY.The hair? What do you mean?MAGGIE.The one with the hair all over her eyes—nice hair, too.LILY.Gladys Vancouver? Poor Percy—I’m afraid he is a little bit of a flirt.MAGGIE.He’s got nothing else to do with his evenings.LILY.And then people like Mr. Tennant think it’s a dull life.MAGGIE.Well, good night all. No, don’t come out, Mr. Tennant—I’m quite a capable person.TENNANT.Oh, but I shall—if you’ll allow me.MAGGIE.I’d rather you didn’t—still, if you will. [They go out withLILY.]CHARLEYlooks round and sighs with relief—he walks round, looks out of the window, then at the garden—he takes up the paper, but after trying in vain to settle to it, throws it on the floor—he re-fills his pipe and lights it. Re-enterTENNANT.TENNANT.Well. [He pauses, butCHARLEYdoes not stir.] I say, Wilson, I never thought you’d take it like this.CHARLEYdoes not answer, but only shifts restlessly.I thought you’d think I was a fool too. In fact I was half ashamed to say anything about it. It wouldn’t do for most people, you know. I’m in an exceptional position, and even in spite of that they call me an ass. I’ve got a little cash, too.CHARLEY.[quickly.] So have I.TENNANT.Yes, but the cases are different. I can rough it.CHARLEY.Let me have the chance to rough it.TENNANT.You’re married.CHARLEYdoes not reply.You’re settled. Your friends are here. I’ve got nothing and nobody to worry about.They both smoke in silence.I say, don’t sit up and think. Go to bed.CHARLEY.I’m going soon. Don’t stay up, old chap.TENNANT.You’ll get over it.He goes out.EnterLILY—she pulls down blind and fastens catch of window.LILY.I’m going up now. Don’t be long. You look so tired.CHARLEY.[irritably.] Oh, don’t fret about me. I’m a little worried, that’s all.LILY.[timidly.] Did Mr. Fenwick bring bad news? He looked miserable enough.CHARLEY.[looking at her steadily.] Yes, I’m not going to have that rise.LILY.Oh, dear—what a shame! Why?CHARLEY.Lots of reasons—but that’s all.LILY.Of course, you’re worried. Still—it might have been worse. You might have been sent away.CHARLEY.Yes.LILY.It’s very disheartening—after all we’d plannedto do with it. You won’t be able to have the greenhouse, now, will you, dear?CHARLEY.[with a short laugh.] What’s the good of a greenhouse in that yard. It isn’t that.LILY.[a little timidly.] But we can manage very well, dear. We—you remember what I said this morning—about the other lodger.CHARLEY.Oh, don’t, for heaven’s sake. It isn’t losing the cash I mind; it’s having to give in like this. I want to go to them and tell them to do their worst and get somebody else.LILY.But dear, you might lose your place.CHARLEY.I should.LILY.But that—we couldn’t afford that, could we? Why, we can manage quite well as we are. I can be very careful still—CHARLEY.I’m tired of going on as we’ve been going.LILY.What do you want to do?CHARLEY.I—I want to go away. [Pause.]LILY.And leave me?CHARLEY.[suddenly remembering.] Oh—er—LILY.It’s just that horrid Mr. Tennant—CHARLEY.It’s nothing to do with him—at least. . . .LILY.I said it was. He wants you to go with him—and you want to go—you’re tired of me—CHARLEY.[going up to her and trying to speak gently but being very irritated—his voice is sharp.] Oh, don’t cry . . . you don’t understand. Look, Lil, supposing I went and you came out afterwards.LILY.You want to go without me.CHARLEY.I couldn’t take you, dear, but I would soon send for you; it wouldn’t be long.LILY.You want to go without me. You’re tired of me.CHARLEY.Oh, don’t cry, Lil. I didn’t say I was going.Of course I don’t want to leave you, dear. You mustn’t take any notice. [Attempting to take her in his arms.]LILY.[turning away from him, sobs.] But you do. . . .CHARLEY.I don’t want to go because I want to leave you. . . .LILY.But you said. . . .CHARLEY.Never mind what I said. [He kisses her and pets her like a child.] Come, go to bed. It’s the news—and the excitement about Tennant—and all that. Come, go back to bed and I’ll be up in a few minutes.CHARLEYleads her to the door and coaxes her outside and stands at the door a few seconds, then he comes back into the room, stands still, looking round. He goes to the front parlour and hunts over the chairs and the piano as if in search of something. Finally he picks up a paper off the floor and brings to table—it is the map of Australia. He opens it on the table and leans over it, his pipe unnoticed burning out in his left hand.CURTAIN
ACT IISCENE: Sitting-room at55Acacia Avenue. The folding doors between front and back parlour are opened, with red curtains looped up. The front parlour, a glimpse of which is visible between curtains, is in full light and a corner of the piano can be seen. The furniture in this room is of the imitation Sheraton variety. There is an ornamental overmantel with photographs and vases, and a marble clock in the middle of the mantelpiece.Someone is playing the piano, andLILY,standing beside it, is singing in a sweet but rather weak voice, “Sing me to sleep.” No one is in the back parlour, but through the curtains can be seenMORTON LESLIE,lolling on mantelpiece;SYBIL FROST,a pretty fair-haired girl, much given to laughing at everything;PERCY MASSEY,a good-looking, somewhat weak youth of perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two, sitting very close toSYBIL,andTENNANT,standing in the bay window.CHARLEYcomes in quietly through the side door into the back parlour during the singing. WhenLILYcomes to the refrain of the song, everyone exceptCHARLEYjoins in. He stays in the back parlour and sitting down in the shadow, lights a cigarette.LILYsits down amid a good deal of clapping and words of admiration.SYBIL.I do love that song.PERCY.Now you sing something.SYBIL.[with a giggle.] I couldn’t really—you know I couldn’t.PERCY.Oh, yes, you can—that nice little coon thing you sang at the Richards.SYBIL.I’ve got a cold.MAGGIE.[crossing from piano.] Of course you have.SYBIL.[laughing.] But it’s quite true. Really. And I couldn’t really sing after Mrs. Wilson.LILY.Sybil! Do sing,please.LESLIE.We’re all waiting, Miss Frost.SYBIL.Oh, please—I can’t. Let someone else sing first.MAGGIEcomes to the doorway and catches sight ofCHARLEY.She comes in. In the front parlourSYBILcan be seen still resisting, whileLILY,LESLIE,andPERCY MASSEYbeseech her.MAGGIE.You here—all alone?CHARLEY.’Um.MAGGIE.What’s the matter?CHARLEY.Nothing.MAGGIE.Why didn’t you come into the front room?CHARLEY.I can hear quite as well here.MAGGIE.Got the hump?CHARLEY.What for? Head’s a bit nasty, so I’m smoking it off.MAGGIE.It isn’t that—it’s all this about Tennant.CHARLEY.[irritably.] I’m not grieving over him, if that’s what you mean.MAGGIE.As if I did! and as if you’d confess if you were. Are you sick of everything?CHARLEY.Sick! I’d cut the whole beastly show tomorrow if— [He stops suddenly.]LILY’Svoice can be heard distinctly from the front room.LILY.Well, we’ll ask Mr. Tennant to sing first.SYBIL.Oh, I can’t sing, really—CHARLEY.Why doesn’t the girl sing when she’s asked?MAGGIE.She says she has a cold. [She laughs a little.]CHARLEY.Rot! Affectation, I call it.MAGGIE.Percy’s awfully smitten, isn’t he?CHARLEY.[surprised.] With her?MAGGIE.Of course. But you haven’t noticed that. Lily’s been arranging it.CHARLEY.But he’s such a kid.MAGGIE.He’s twenty-two.CHARLEY.What’s that?MAGGIE.Lots of men marry at twenty-two.CHARLEY.More fools they! Getting tied up before they’ve seen anything.MAGGIE.[thoughtfully.] I can never understand why a man gets married. He’s got so many chances to see the world and do things—and then he goes and marries and settles down and is a family man before he’s twenty-four.CHARLEY.It’s a habit.MAGGIE.If I were a man I wouldn’t stay in England another week. I wouldn’t be a quill-driver all my life.CHARLEYgets up and walks restlessly up and down the room.If I were a man—CHARLEY.Men can’t do everything.MAGGIE.I say, don’t you think it’s fine of Mr. Tennant to throw up everything and take the risk?CHARLEY.I’d do the same if . . .LILY.[coming forward a little.] Where’s Charley? Oh, never mind, I daresay he’s got a lantern and is looking for worms or something. Are you ready, Mr. Tennant?MAGGIE.I wonder what Lil would say if you did!CHARLEYstops dead and looks atMAGGIE.CHARLEY.If Idid?What are you talking about?MAGGIE.Why shouldn’t you?CHARLEY.Why shouldn’t I? Aren’t there a thousand reasons?MAGGIE.There’s Lily, certainly—but . . .CHARLEY.She wouldn’t understand. She’d think I was deserting her.A pause.But that’s not all. I might manage her—I don’t know—but—you see, I’ve got a berth I can stay in all my life . . .TENNANTstarts singing the first verse of “Off to Philadelphia.”It’s like throwing up a dead cert. And then. . . .MAGGIE.Itwouldbe a splash.CHARLEY.Yes—and think of all your people? What’d they say? They’d say I was running away from Lil—of course, it would seem like it. . . .Another pause.It’s impossible. I might never get anything to do—and then—His voice is suddenly drowned as the front room party sing the chorus “With my Knapsack,” etc. Knock at front door.I—MAGGIE.I believe I heard a knock.She goes out in corridor asTENNANTcommences the second verse.CHARLEYsits on the edge of the table watching and listening. The door opens andMAGGIEenters, followed byFENWICK.FENWICKis a man of middle age, short and slight, with a quiet, rather crushed manner.MAGGIE.Mr. Fenwick didn’t want to come in when he heard all the singing. He thought we had a party.She goes through curtains.CHARLEY.Oh, it’s nothing—a sort of family sing-song.FENWICK.Miss Massey would have me come in—but really I’d rather come some other—CHARLEY.Stuff! Sit down. I’ll pull the curtains if it’s anything special you’ve come about. I thought it was perhaps over those geranium cuttings. Afterwards, if you feel like it, we’ll go and join them. [Draws curtains and turns up light.] Freddy Tennant—you know him, don’t you—he’s going to seek his fortune in the Colonies.FEN.Is he?CHARLEY.Yes, and we’ll drink his health. What’s up?FEN.I didn’t see you at the train to-day.CHARLEY.No, you were late. I came on with Malcolm.FEN.The chief sent for me.CHARLEY.Wasn’t a rise, I suppose?FEN.Do I look like it? It’s the other thing.CHARLEY.Docking?FEN.[nodding first and then speaking slowly.] He said he’d sent for me as senior of my department. The company has had a bad year and they can’t give the usual rises.CHARLEY.None?FEN.None. Haven’t you had a letter?CHARLEY.No. I say, have I got the sack?FEN.No, you haven’t. But they’re offering you the same alternative they offered me—stay on at less—or go.CHARLEY.[walking up and down.] What are you going to do?FEN.What can I do? Stay, of course—what else is there?CHARLEY.Sit down under it?FEN.What else?Postman’s knock.CHARLEY.There’s the postman. Wait a bit.He goes out R. and the voices in the other room can be distinctly heard laughing, while someone is playing a waltz tune very brilliantly.CHARLEYcomes back with a letter in his hand, closes door and music dies down.CHARLEY.Here it is. [He opens and reads it, then throws it on the table.]FENWICK.A bit of a blow, isn’t it?CHARLEY.I didn’t expect it. Did you?FENWICK.Not until last week when Morgan started making enquiries as to salaries, et cetera. Then I guessed.CHARLEY.We can’t do anything.FENWICK.Of course not.CHARLEY.But I say, you know, it’s all rot about a bad year. Don’t expect we’ve been exactly piling it up, but it’s nothing to grumble about.FENWICK.That doesn’t affect us, anyway. We’ve got to do as we’re told. I fancy old Morgan is hit, too. He was sugary, but of course he had to obey the instructions of the directors and so on.CHARLEY.It’s no good swearing at him.FENWICK.It’s no good swearing at anybody. What’s a Board? Where is it?The curtains part andLILYappears in the opening.LILY.Charley—are you there? Are you never coming back? Oh, Mr. Fenwick!FENWICKrises; shake hands.FENWICK.Good evening. I’m afraid I’m an awful nuisance, but I just called to see your husband about a little business.LILY.You’ll stay to supper, won’t you? You andCharley can sit and talk business the whole time. I’m afraid Charley doesn’t like music very much—do you, dear?CHARLEY.Oh, sometimes.LILY.[big laugh from behind curtains.] You should hear Mr. Leslie. He’s so funny, he’s been giving Mr. Tennant advice what to do when he’s a lonely bachelor in Australia. He made usroarwith laughter.Goes back laughing.CHARLEY.Silly ass!FENWICK.[startled.] What?CHARLEY.That chap Leslie! It’d do him good to go to Australia for a bit. He’d stick to his berth if they docked his screw to ten bob. He’s got no pride in him.FENWICK.Well, we—at least, I—can’t say much—I’m going to stay on. You, too, I suppose.CHARLEY.[with a sort of defiance.] Why should I? What’s to hinder me leaving? Why shouldn’t I go to Morgan and say, “Look here—just tell those directors that I won’t stand it! I’m not going to be put up or down—take this or that—at their will and pleasure.”There is a burst of laughter from the inner room.FENWICK.That’s all very well—and if you’ve got something else—CHARLEY.[fiercely.] I haven’t—not an idea of one—but why should that hinder? Look at Tennant, he’s chucked his job and no one wanted to take off anything.FENWICK.[quite undisturbed.] Tennant? Oh, he’s going to the Colonies? Very risky. I nearly went there myself once.CHARLEY.Why didn’t you quite?FENWICK.Various things. All my people were against it. Oh, well, what was the good of going? It was only a passing fancy, I daresay. Once youleave a place the chances are you won’t get another. There are so many of us. . . .CHARLEY.Of course, it’s safe and it’s wise and it’s sensible and all that—but it’sdamnable.FENWICK.It’s come suddenly to you—I’ve almost got used to the idea. [With a little laugh.] You do, you know, after a little. You’re young. . . . [With sigh.] Well, there it is. [A pause.] But I’d looked for that rise. It’ll make a difference. [Pulling himself together.] However, it can’t be helped. We’ve got something left and I’m safe, and that’s more than a good many people can say. I’m sorry I came tonight, Wilson.LESLIE’Svoice can be heard, shouting out a comic song.[Smiling.] Life doesn’t seem to worry him.CHARLEY.Won’t you stay and have supper?FENWICK.Thanks, no. I don’t feel exactly sociable.CHARLEY.[with a short laugh.] Neither do I, old chap. Fact is, I was feeling a bit off when you came.FENWICK.You’re a little restless, but it’ll work off. Look at me. I felt like that once.They go out.The curtains are pulled wide andLESLIEandPERCY MASSEYenter.TENNANTcan be seen in the front parlour.LESLIE.May we interrupt? [Looking around.] Empty was the cradle.Re-enterCHARLEY.Where’s the business?CHARLEY.Fenwick’s been, but he’s just gone.LESLIE.Fenwick? Wasn’t cheerful company, was he?CHARLEY.[crossly.] What’s the matter with him?LESLIE.He never is, that’s all.CHARLEY.He isn’t exactly boisterous. He nearly emigrated once, he tells me.TENNANT.[coming forward.] Why didn’t he quite?LESLIE.Not enough devil in him. Hundreds of ’em almost go.CHARLEY.Did you?LESLIE.[with energy.] I’m comfortable enough where I am. I’ve been telling this chap here he’s a fool, but he won’t believe me. He says he’d rather be a fool in the Colonies than a wise man here. Don’t know what he means quite, but it sounds rather smart. [Waving his pipe oracularly as he faces the three men.] I’ve known lots of chaps who’ve wanted to go. The guv’nor is unpleasant or there’s too much overtime or they get jealous of their girl or something of that sort and off they must go. I’ve known a few who went—and sorry they were, too. You can’t do anything out there. Read the emigration books, read your papers. Failure all along the line. Market overcrowded. Only capitalists need apply—the Colonies don’t want you—CHARLEY.Neither does England—LESLIE.Of course not but [waving his arm impressively] but you’re here and got something. That’s the whole point. My advice is—stick where you are. Tennant’s a stupid ass to give up a decent berth; he deserves to fail. Of course, we should all like to see the world.Ishould—TENNANT.It’s more than that.CHARLEY.Yes, yes, you don’t understand. It isn’t the idea of travelling—it’s because you want to feel—oh! [He stretches out his arms.] I don’t suppose you ever feel so—LESLIE.Can’t say I did.TENNANT.Aren’t you ever sick of the thing, Leslie?CHARLEY.And don’t you ever want to pitch all the ledgers into the dustbin and burn the stools?LESLIE.Never—though I’ve met many that have. I tell you, it’s a good thing to have a safe berth nowadays. Many fellows would only be too glad to pick up Tennant’s berth—or yours, Wilson. Think of the crowds that will answer the advertisement at Molesey’s— Last week our firm wanted a man to do overtime work, and they don’t pay too high a rate—I can tell you. They had five hundred and fifteen applications—five hundred and fifteen! Think of that! And that’s what would happen to you if you went, Wilson, and that’ll be the end of Tennant. Sorry to be unpleasant—but truth—TENNANT.But there’s room on the land—LESLIE.Land! What on earth can a bally clerk do with a spade? He’d be trying to stick it behind his ear—Shout of laughter fromPERCY MASSEY.He’s got no muscle—he’s got a back that would break if he stooped—he’d always have a cold in his nose—CHARLEY.Shut it, Leslie. You can’t call Tennant exactly anæmic. And look at this. [He strips off his coat and turns back his shirt sleeves to display his arms.] How’s that?TENNANTlooks on with interest.LESLIEcomes near and pinchesCHARLEY’Sarm, whilePERCY MASSEYlooks on smilingly.LESLIE.All right for a back garden. I suppose you think you’re an authority on the land question ’cause you grow sweet peas?CHARLEY.[digging his hands into the pockets without turning down his sleeves again.] I don’t think anything of the kind. What I do know is that if I had a chance I could farm land with anybody.Doyou think I chose this beastly business of quill-driving because it’s the best work I know. Do you?LESLIE.I don’t suppose you chose it at all. Your father chose it for you.PERCY.[toCHARLEY.] Well, I say, what’s the matter with it?CHARLEY.You wait till you’re a few years older.LESLIE.Wilson’s caught the land fever. Take up an allotment—that’ll cure you. Your garden isn’t big enough. Have you got that map, Tennant?TENNANT.It’s in my room. Shall we go up?LESLIE.Is there a fire?TENNANT.No.LESLIE.Bring it down, there’s a good chap. I like to take things comfortable. I’ll wait down here.TENNANTgoes out R.LESLIErises; goes back to the front room.PERCY.I say, Charley—CHARLEY.Well?PERCY.I’ve got a rise.CHARLEY.Congratulations—wish I had.PERCY.Foster’s given me Beckett’s job.CHARLEY.And Beckett?PERCY.Well, he’s got the sack, you know. It’s a bit rough on him, but I couldn’t help it, could I?CHARLEY.I suppose you’re doing it cheaper?PERCY.That’s about the line. I’m awfully sorry for Beckett. He’s not young, and it’s awfully hard to get anything when you’re middle-aged.CHARLEY.So I believe. Well, anyhow, you’re in luck—aren’t you?PERCY.Yes, it’s sooner than I thought.They sit in silence.TENNANTre-enters, and goes into inner room.I say, Charley, what did you start on?CHARLEY.Eh? What d’ye mean?PERCY.You—and—and Lily—you know.CHARLEYlooks at him steadily.CHARLEY.Oh, that’s it, is it?PERCY.You didn’t begin with a house, of course.CHARLEY.You know as well as I do that we had three rooms—and jolly small ones.PERCY.Still you were comfortable.CHARLEY.It was warm—winter and summer.PERCY.It wasn’t very expensive?CHARLEY.You have to choose your housekeeper carefully.PERCY.If you’re going to chaff—CHARLEY.Don’t be an idiot. You’ve now got ninety, I suppose. You can manage on that.PERCY.You really think so?CHARLEY.I know from experience.PERCY.You don’t ask who the lady is?CHARLEY.Sybil is a pretty little girl.PERCY.Well, I suppose you did guess a bit.CHARLEY.Not me! Maggie and Lil did it between them.PERCY.Did it?CHARLEY.Made the match—Maggie told me.PERCY.[indignantly.] They did nothing of the kind. I met Sybil here and . . .CHARLEY.’Um—um!PERCY.We just came together—it was bound to be.There is a sound of laughter outside andLILYandSYBILare seen carrying in cakes and lemonade.CHARLEY.Sheispretty—PERCY.Yes, in rather an unusual—CHARLEY.But so are others.PERCY.I say, old man.CHARLEY.Well, aren’t they? I suppose you won’t listen to advice.PERCY.What about?CHARLEY.You’re too young to marry.PERCY.I’m twenty-three. So were you when you married.CHARLEY.I was too young.PERCY.Do you mean. . . .CHARLEY.[impatiently.] Oh, don’t look so scandalised. No, I’m not tired of Lily. It’s not that at all—but, are you satisfied to be a clerk all your life?PERCY.I say, Tennant’s upset you. Of course I’m satisfied to be a clerk.CHARLEY.Butareyou?PERCY.[impatiently.] Don’t I say so?CHARLEY.Have you ever felt a desire to kick your hat into the fire? Have you?PERCY.No! Not yet!CHARLEY.Not yet. There you are—but you will. Don’t you ever want to see anything more of the world—did you ever have that feeling?PERCY.[a little thoughtfully.] Well, I did once. I wanted to go out with Robinson. But the dad wouldn’t consent. It was a bit risky, you know, and this job came along—and so I wouldn’t go.CHARLEY.Did Robinson come back?PERCY.No, he’s got a decent little place out there.CHARLEY.They don’t all fail, then?PERCY.Of course not—but lots do. I might be one of those.CHARLEY.Well, the thing is if you ever thought of doing anything now’s your time. You can’t do it afterwards. Take my tip and don’t get engaged yet. You’re too young to decide such an important question.PERCY.No younger than you were—and I must say. . . .CHARLEY.Don’t be so touchy—can’t you see I’m talking to you for your good?PERCY.I think you’re crazed.CHARLEY.[sharply.] Why am I crazed, as you call it? Isn’t it because I know a little what your life is going to be? Haven’t I gone backwards and forwards to the city every day of my life since I was sixteen and am I crazed because I suggest it’s a bit monotonous? [Going close toPERCYand putting his hand on his shoulder solemnly.] I’m not saying she isn’t the right girl for you—I’m only suggesting that perhaps she isn’t! She’s pretty and she’s handy. . . .PERCY.I say! I won’t have that.CHARLEY.Don’t. Pass it over. It’s just this—think—and don’t marry the first pretty girl and live in three rooms because your brother-in-law did it.PERCY.She wasn’t—the first pretty girl. . . .SYBIL.[appearing at opening and smiling demurely.] Mrs. Wilson says—Oh, Mr. Wilson, have you been fighting?CHARLEY.[suddenly remembering that he has his coat off.] I beg your pardon. [He pulls it on hastily.] [ToPERCY.] Remember!PERCY.[with his eyes onSYBIL.] Rot! [Goes back withSYBIL.]LILY.[coming towards him.] Who said anything about fighting? Now I suppose you’ve been arguing with everybody and shouted at them. You do get so cross when you argue—don’t you, dear? Supper is quite ready. I sent Sybil to tell you. . . .CHARLEY.Sybil’s feeding Percy. She’s got all her work cut out.LILY.How rude you are! Do you know, I’m quite angry with you. You’ve hardly been in the whole evening.CHARLEY.Fenwick. . . .LILY.Yes, I saw him. He looks so lifeless, don’t you think?CHARLEY.He says I shall grow like him.LILY.What an idea! Why, how could you?TheCOMPANYmove about the two rooms, theMENhanding refreshments to theWOMEN—theyALLcome more forward.LESLIE.What do you think—? I lost the 8.15 this morning!CHARLEY.Should have thought it would have waited for you.LESLIE.I left the house at the usual time and there was a confounded woman at the station with about five trunks and a paper parcel, who took up the whole doorway.Much laughing fromSYBILand an encouraging smile fromLILY.By the time I got over the train was gone. Never did such a thing in my life before.LILY.Youhaven’t sung to us, Charley, dear.MAGGIE.He’s tired.LILY.Not too tired for that, are you?SYBIL.Oh, do, Mr. Wilson, I know you sing splendidly. Per— Mr. Massey told me so.PERCY.S’sh! don’t give me away—he’s my brother-in-law.CHARLEY.Not to-night, Lil—I—I’m a little hoarse.LILY.That’s being out in the garden at all hours.LESLIE.Don’t say that, Mrs. Wilson. Your husband wants to go as a farmer in the Colonies—and you’ll discourage him.LILY.You silly man, Mr. Leslie. [ToCHARLEY.] You must have something hot when you go to bed, dear.LESLIE.I love being a little ill. My wife’s an awfully good nurse.SYBIL.I believe you put it on sometimes, Mr. Leslie.LESLIE.Well, do you know—I believe I do. Ladies won’t put their pretty fingers round your neck for nothing.But if you have a little hoarseness—not too much to be really unpleasant—or a headache is a very good thing—it is delightful—I always say to myself:“O woman—in our hours of ease—Uncertain, coy and hard to please,When pain and anguish wring the brow,A ministering angel thou.”LILY.We ought to have “Auld Lang Syne”—TENNANT.Please don’t.LILY.It would be so nice for you to remember. [Going up L.] Yes, we must. Come. [She puts out her hands and makes themALLform a ring, with hands crossed and all round table.]TENNANTandCHARLEYjoin most reluctantly and are not seen to sing a note.There! That’s better.SYBIL.Now I must go, Mrs. Wilson.LILY.Must you really? Come and get your things.They go out.A tapping is heard at the window in the near room—MAGGIEruns and opens it.VOICE.Is my husband there, Mrs. Wilson?LESLIE.Y—es. I’m here. Coming, darling.SYBILandLILYre-enter R.LESLIE.My wife has sent for me home, Mrs. Wilson.MAGGIE.Are you going over the wall?SYBIL.Oh, do, Mr. Leslie—I should love to see you.LESLIE.If it will give you any pleasure it shall be done, though I am not at my best on the fence.They all crowd round—he shakes hands, smiling profusely, and disappears through the window.VOICE.Mind the flower-pot. No—not there—that’s the dustbin. Not the steps.There is a great shout to announce his safe arrival.LESLIE.Safe!SYBIL.I do think he is so funny!LILY.Yes, isn’t he? Are you going by ’bus?PERCY.I’mgoing Miss Frost’s way.SYBIL.[much surprised.] Are you really?MAGGIE.How extraordinary!Much kissing betweenSYBIL,LILYandMAGGIE.SYBILandPERCYgo out.LILY.She’s so sweet, isn’t she? And Percy’s so awfully gone.MAGGIE.[as they start clearing away the dishes.] Very. So he was over Daisy Mallock and Ruby Denis—and who’s the other girl with the hair?LILY.The hair? What do you mean?MAGGIE.The one with the hair all over her eyes—nice hair, too.LILY.Gladys Vancouver? Poor Percy—I’m afraid he is a little bit of a flirt.MAGGIE.He’s got nothing else to do with his evenings.LILY.And then people like Mr. Tennant think it’s a dull life.MAGGIE.Well, good night all. No, don’t come out, Mr. Tennant—I’m quite a capable person.TENNANT.Oh, but I shall—if you’ll allow me.MAGGIE.I’d rather you didn’t—still, if you will. [They go out withLILY.]CHARLEYlooks round and sighs with relief—he walks round, looks out of the window, then at the garden—he takes up the paper, but after trying in vain to settle to it, throws it on the floor—he re-fills his pipe and lights it. Re-enterTENNANT.TENNANT.Well. [He pauses, butCHARLEYdoes not stir.] I say, Wilson, I never thought you’d take it like this.CHARLEYdoes not answer, but only shifts restlessly.I thought you’d think I was a fool too. In fact I was half ashamed to say anything about it. It wouldn’t do for most people, you know. I’m in an exceptional position, and even in spite of that they call me an ass. I’ve got a little cash, too.CHARLEY.[quickly.] So have I.TENNANT.Yes, but the cases are different. I can rough it.CHARLEY.Let me have the chance to rough it.TENNANT.You’re married.CHARLEYdoes not reply.You’re settled. Your friends are here. I’ve got nothing and nobody to worry about.They both smoke in silence.I say, don’t sit up and think. Go to bed.CHARLEY.I’m going soon. Don’t stay up, old chap.TENNANT.You’ll get over it.He goes out.EnterLILY—she pulls down blind and fastens catch of window.LILY.I’m going up now. Don’t be long. You look so tired.CHARLEY.[irritably.] Oh, don’t fret about me. I’m a little worried, that’s all.LILY.[timidly.] Did Mr. Fenwick bring bad news? He looked miserable enough.CHARLEY.[looking at her steadily.] Yes, I’m not going to have that rise.LILY.Oh, dear—what a shame! Why?CHARLEY.Lots of reasons—but that’s all.LILY.Of course, you’re worried. Still—it might have been worse. You might have been sent away.CHARLEY.Yes.LILY.It’s very disheartening—after all we’d plannedto do with it. You won’t be able to have the greenhouse, now, will you, dear?CHARLEY.[with a short laugh.] What’s the good of a greenhouse in that yard. It isn’t that.LILY.[a little timidly.] But we can manage very well, dear. We—you remember what I said this morning—about the other lodger.CHARLEY.Oh, don’t, for heaven’s sake. It isn’t losing the cash I mind; it’s having to give in like this. I want to go to them and tell them to do their worst and get somebody else.LILY.But dear, you might lose your place.CHARLEY.I should.LILY.But that—we couldn’t afford that, could we? Why, we can manage quite well as we are. I can be very careful still—CHARLEY.I’m tired of going on as we’ve been going.LILY.What do you want to do?CHARLEY.I—I want to go away. [Pause.]LILY.And leave me?CHARLEY.[suddenly remembering.] Oh—er—LILY.It’s just that horrid Mr. Tennant—CHARLEY.It’s nothing to do with him—at least. . . .LILY.I said it was. He wants you to go with him—and you want to go—you’re tired of me—CHARLEY.[going up to her and trying to speak gently but being very irritated—his voice is sharp.] Oh, don’t cry . . . you don’t understand. Look, Lil, supposing I went and you came out afterwards.LILY.You want to go without me.CHARLEY.I couldn’t take you, dear, but I would soon send for you; it wouldn’t be long.LILY.You want to go without me. You’re tired of me.CHARLEY.Oh, don’t cry, Lil. I didn’t say I was going.Of course I don’t want to leave you, dear. You mustn’t take any notice. [Attempting to take her in his arms.]LILY.[turning away from him, sobs.] But you do. . . .CHARLEY.I don’t want to go because I want to leave you. . . .LILY.But you said. . . .CHARLEY.Never mind what I said. [He kisses her and pets her like a child.] Come, go to bed. It’s the news—and the excitement about Tennant—and all that. Come, go back to bed and I’ll be up in a few minutes.CHARLEYleads her to the door and coaxes her outside and stands at the door a few seconds, then he comes back into the room, stands still, looking round. He goes to the front parlour and hunts over the chairs and the piano as if in search of something. Finally he picks up a paper off the floor and brings to table—it is the map of Australia. He opens it on the table and leans over it, his pipe unnoticed burning out in his left hand.CURTAIN
SCENE: Sitting-room at55Acacia Avenue. The folding doors between front and back parlour are opened, with red curtains looped up. The front parlour, a glimpse of which is visible between curtains, is in full light and a corner of the piano can be seen. The furniture in this room is of the imitation Sheraton variety. There is an ornamental overmantel with photographs and vases, and a marble clock in the middle of the mantelpiece.
Someone is playing the piano, andLILY,standing beside it, is singing in a sweet but rather weak voice, “Sing me to sleep.” No one is in the back parlour, but through the curtains can be seenMORTON LESLIE,lolling on mantelpiece;SYBIL FROST,a pretty fair-haired girl, much given to laughing at everything;PERCY MASSEY,a good-looking, somewhat weak youth of perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two, sitting very close toSYBIL,andTENNANT,standing in the bay window.
CHARLEYcomes in quietly through the side door into the back parlour during the singing. WhenLILYcomes to the refrain of the song, everyone exceptCHARLEYjoins in. He stays in the back parlour and sitting down in the shadow, lights a cigarette.LILYsits down amid a good deal of clapping and words of admiration.
SYBIL.I do love that song.
PERCY.Now you sing something.
SYBIL.[with a giggle.] I couldn’t really—you know I couldn’t.
PERCY.Oh, yes, you can—that nice little coon thing you sang at the Richards.
SYBIL.I’ve got a cold.
MAGGIE.[crossing from piano.] Of course you have.
SYBIL.[laughing.] But it’s quite true. Really. And I couldn’t really sing after Mrs. Wilson.
LILY.Sybil! Do sing,please.
LESLIE.We’re all waiting, Miss Frost.
SYBIL.Oh, please—I can’t. Let someone else sing first.
MAGGIEcomes to the doorway and catches sight ofCHARLEY.She comes in. In the front parlourSYBILcan be seen still resisting, whileLILY,LESLIE,andPERCY MASSEYbeseech her.
MAGGIE.You here—all alone?
CHARLEY.’Um.
MAGGIE.What’s the matter?
CHARLEY.Nothing.
MAGGIE.Why didn’t you come into the front room?
CHARLEY.I can hear quite as well here.
MAGGIE.Got the hump?
CHARLEY.What for? Head’s a bit nasty, so I’m smoking it off.
MAGGIE.It isn’t that—it’s all this about Tennant.
CHARLEY.[irritably.] I’m not grieving over him, if that’s what you mean.
MAGGIE.As if I did! and as if you’d confess if you were. Are you sick of everything?
CHARLEY.Sick! I’d cut the whole beastly show tomorrow if— [He stops suddenly.]
LILY’Svoice can be heard distinctly from the front room.
LILY.Well, we’ll ask Mr. Tennant to sing first.
SYBIL.Oh, I can’t sing, really—
CHARLEY.Why doesn’t the girl sing when she’s asked?
MAGGIE.She says she has a cold. [She laughs a little.]
CHARLEY.Rot! Affectation, I call it.
MAGGIE.Percy’s awfully smitten, isn’t he?
CHARLEY.[surprised.] With her?
MAGGIE.Of course. But you haven’t noticed that. Lily’s been arranging it.
CHARLEY.But he’s such a kid.
MAGGIE.He’s twenty-two.
CHARLEY.What’s that?
MAGGIE.Lots of men marry at twenty-two.
CHARLEY.More fools they! Getting tied up before they’ve seen anything.
MAGGIE.[thoughtfully.] I can never understand why a man gets married. He’s got so many chances to see the world and do things—and then he goes and marries and settles down and is a family man before he’s twenty-four.
CHARLEY.It’s a habit.
MAGGIE.If I were a man I wouldn’t stay in England another week. I wouldn’t be a quill-driver all my life.
CHARLEYgets up and walks restlessly up and down the room.
If I were a man—
CHARLEY.Men can’t do everything.
MAGGIE.I say, don’t you think it’s fine of Mr. Tennant to throw up everything and take the risk?
CHARLEY.I’d do the same if . . .
LILY.[coming forward a little.] Where’s Charley? Oh, never mind, I daresay he’s got a lantern and is looking for worms or something. Are you ready, Mr. Tennant?
MAGGIE.I wonder what Lil would say if you did!
CHARLEYstops dead and looks atMAGGIE.
CHARLEY.If Idid?What are you talking about?
MAGGIE.Why shouldn’t you?
CHARLEY.Why shouldn’t I? Aren’t there a thousand reasons?
MAGGIE.There’s Lily, certainly—but . . .
CHARLEY.She wouldn’t understand. She’d think I was deserting her.
A pause.
But that’s not all. I might manage her—I don’t know—but—you see, I’ve got a berth I can stay in all my life . . .
TENNANTstarts singing the first verse of “Off to Philadelphia.”
It’s like throwing up a dead cert. And then. . . .
MAGGIE.Itwouldbe a splash.
CHARLEY.Yes—and think of all your people? What’d they say? They’d say I was running away from Lil—of course, it would seem like it. . . .
Another pause.
It’s impossible. I might never get anything to do—and then—
His voice is suddenly drowned as the front room party sing the chorus “With my Knapsack,” etc. Knock at front door.
I—
MAGGIE.I believe I heard a knock.
She goes out in corridor asTENNANTcommences the second verse.
CHARLEYsits on the edge of the table watching and listening. The door opens andMAGGIEenters, followed byFENWICK.FENWICKis a man of middle age, short and slight, with a quiet, rather crushed manner.
MAGGIE.Mr. Fenwick didn’t want to come in when he heard all the singing. He thought we had a party.
She goes through curtains.
CHARLEY.Oh, it’s nothing—a sort of family sing-song.
FENWICK.Miss Massey would have me come in—but really I’d rather come some other—
CHARLEY.Stuff! Sit down. I’ll pull the curtains if it’s anything special you’ve come about. I thought it was perhaps over those geranium cuttings. Afterwards, if you feel like it, we’ll go and join them. [Draws curtains and turns up light.] Freddy Tennant—you know him, don’t you—he’s going to seek his fortune in the Colonies.
FEN.Is he?
CHARLEY.Yes, and we’ll drink his health. What’s up?
FEN.I didn’t see you at the train to-day.
CHARLEY.No, you were late. I came on with Malcolm.
FEN.The chief sent for me.
CHARLEY.Wasn’t a rise, I suppose?
FEN.Do I look like it? It’s the other thing.
CHARLEY.Docking?
FEN.[nodding first and then speaking slowly.] He said he’d sent for me as senior of my department. The company has had a bad year and they can’t give the usual rises.
CHARLEY.None?
FEN.None. Haven’t you had a letter?
CHARLEY.No. I say, have I got the sack?
FEN.No, you haven’t. But they’re offering you the same alternative they offered me—stay on at less—or go.
CHARLEY.[walking up and down.] What are you going to do?
FEN.What can I do? Stay, of course—what else is there?
CHARLEY.Sit down under it?
FEN.What else?
Postman’s knock.
CHARLEY.There’s the postman. Wait a bit.
He goes out R. and the voices in the other room can be distinctly heard laughing, while someone is playing a waltz tune very brilliantly.
CHARLEYcomes back with a letter in his hand, closes door and music dies down.
CHARLEY.Here it is. [He opens and reads it, then throws it on the table.]
FENWICK.A bit of a blow, isn’t it?
CHARLEY.I didn’t expect it. Did you?
FENWICK.Not until last week when Morgan started making enquiries as to salaries, et cetera. Then I guessed.
CHARLEY.We can’t do anything.
FENWICK.Of course not.
CHARLEY.But I say, you know, it’s all rot about a bad year. Don’t expect we’ve been exactly piling it up, but it’s nothing to grumble about.
FENWICK.That doesn’t affect us, anyway. We’ve got to do as we’re told. I fancy old Morgan is hit, too. He was sugary, but of course he had to obey the instructions of the directors and so on.
CHARLEY.It’s no good swearing at him.
FENWICK.It’s no good swearing at anybody. What’s a Board? Where is it?
The curtains part andLILYappears in the opening.
LILY.Charley—are you there? Are you never coming back? Oh, Mr. Fenwick!
FENWICKrises; shake hands.
FENWICK.Good evening. I’m afraid I’m an awful nuisance, but I just called to see your husband about a little business.
LILY.You’ll stay to supper, won’t you? You andCharley can sit and talk business the whole time. I’m afraid Charley doesn’t like music very much—do you, dear?
CHARLEY.Oh, sometimes.
LILY.[big laugh from behind curtains.] You should hear Mr. Leslie. He’s so funny, he’s been giving Mr. Tennant advice what to do when he’s a lonely bachelor in Australia. He made usroarwith laughter.
Goes back laughing.
CHARLEY.Silly ass!
FENWICK.[startled.] What?
CHARLEY.That chap Leslie! It’d do him good to go to Australia for a bit. He’d stick to his berth if they docked his screw to ten bob. He’s got no pride in him.
FENWICK.Well, we—at least, I—can’t say much—I’m going to stay on. You, too, I suppose.
CHARLEY.[with a sort of defiance.] Why should I? What’s to hinder me leaving? Why shouldn’t I go to Morgan and say, “Look here—just tell those directors that I won’t stand it! I’m not going to be put up or down—take this or that—at their will and pleasure.”
There is a burst of laughter from the inner room.
FENWICK.That’s all very well—and if you’ve got something else—
CHARLEY.[fiercely.] I haven’t—not an idea of one—but why should that hinder? Look at Tennant, he’s chucked his job and no one wanted to take off anything.
FENWICK.[quite undisturbed.] Tennant? Oh, he’s going to the Colonies? Very risky. I nearly went there myself once.
CHARLEY.Why didn’t you quite?
FENWICK.Various things. All my people were against it. Oh, well, what was the good of going? It was only a passing fancy, I daresay. Once youleave a place the chances are you won’t get another. There are so many of us. . . .
CHARLEY.Of course, it’s safe and it’s wise and it’s sensible and all that—but it’sdamnable.
FENWICK.It’s come suddenly to you—I’ve almost got used to the idea. [With a little laugh.] You do, you know, after a little. You’re young. . . . [With sigh.] Well, there it is. [A pause.] But I’d looked for that rise. It’ll make a difference. [Pulling himself together.] However, it can’t be helped. We’ve got something left and I’m safe, and that’s more than a good many people can say. I’m sorry I came tonight, Wilson.
LESLIE’Svoice can be heard, shouting out a comic song.
[Smiling.] Life doesn’t seem to worry him.
CHARLEY.Won’t you stay and have supper?
FENWICK.Thanks, no. I don’t feel exactly sociable.
CHARLEY.[with a short laugh.] Neither do I, old chap. Fact is, I was feeling a bit off when you came.
FENWICK.You’re a little restless, but it’ll work off. Look at me. I felt like that once.
They go out.
The curtains are pulled wide andLESLIEandPERCY MASSEYenter.TENNANTcan be seen in the front parlour.
LESLIE.May we interrupt? [Looking around.] Empty was the cradle.
Re-enterCHARLEY.
Where’s the business?
CHARLEY.Fenwick’s been, but he’s just gone.
LESLIE.Fenwick? Wasn’t cheerful company, was he?
CHARLEY.[crossly.] What’s the matter with him?
LESLIE.He never is, that’s all.
CHARLEY.He isn’t exactly boisterous. He nearly emigrated once, he tells me.
TENNANT.[coming forward.] Why didn’t he quite?
LESLIE.Not enough devil in him. Hundreds of ’em almost go.
CHARLEY.Did you?
LESLIE.[with energy.] I’m comfortable enough where I am. I’ve been telling this chap here he’s a fool, but he won’t believe me. He says he’d rather be a fool in the Colonies than a wise man here. Don’t know what he means quite, but it sounds rather smart. [Waving his pipe oracularly as he faces the three men.] I’ve known lots of chaps who’ve wanted to go. The guv’nor is unpleasant or there’s too much overtime or they get jealous of their girl or something of that sort and off they must go. I’ve known a few who went—and sorry they were, too. You can’t do anything out there. Read the emigration books, read your papers. Failure all along the line. Market overcrowded. Only capitalists need apply—the Colonies don’t want you—
CHARLEY.Neither does England—
LESLIE.Of course not but [waving his arm impressively] but you’re here and got something. That’s the whole point. My advice is—stick where you are. Tennant’s a stupid ass to give up a decent berth; he deserves to fail. Of course, we should all like to see the world.Ishould—
TENNANT.It’s more than that.
CHARLEY.Yes, yes, you don’t understand. It isn’t the idea of travelling—it’s because you want to feel—oh! [He stretches out his arms.] I don’t suppose you ever feel so—
LESLIE.Can’t say I did.
TENNANT.Aren’t you ever sick of the thing, Leslie?
CHARLEY.And don’t you ever want to pitch all the ledgers into the dustbin and burn the stools?
LESLIE.Never—though I’ve met many that have. I tell you, it’s a good thing to have a safe berth nowadays. Many fellows would only be too glad to pick up Tennant’s berth—or yours, Wilson. Think of the crowds that will answer the advertisement at Molesey’s— Last week our firm wanted a man to do overtime work, and they don’t pay too high a rate—I can tell you. They had five hundred and fifteen applications—five hundred and fifteen! Think of that! And that’s what would happen to you if you went, Wilson, and that’ll be the end of Tennant. Sorry to be unpleasant—but truth—
TENNANT.But there’s room on the land—
LESLIE.Land! What on earth can a bally clerk do with a spade? He’d be trying to stick it behind his ear—
Shout of laughter fromPERCY MASSEY.
He’s got no muscle—he’s got a back that would break if he stooped—he’d always have a cold in his nose—
CHARLEY.Shut it, Leslie. You can’t call Tennant exactly anæmic. And look at this. [He strips off his coat and turns back his shirt sleeves to display his arms.] How’s that?
TENNANTlooks on with interest.LESLIEcomes near and pinchesCHARLEY’Sarm, whilePERCY MASSEYlooks on smilingly.
LESLIE.All right for a back garden. I suppose you think you’re an authority on the land question ’cause you grow sweet peas?
CHARLEY.[digging his hands into the pockets without turning down his sleeves again.] I don’t think anything of the kind. What I do know is that if I had a chance I could farm land with anybody.Doyou think I chose this beastly business of quill-driving because it’s the best work I know. Do you?
LESLIE.I don’t suppose you chose it at all. Your father chose it for you.
PERCY.[toCHARLEY.] Well, I say, what’s the matter with it?
CHARLEY.You wait till you’re a few years older.
LESLIE.Wilson’s caught the land fever. Take up an allotment—that’ll cure you. Your garden isn’t big enough. Have you got that map, Tennant?
TENNANT.It’s in my room. Shall we go up?
LESLIE.Is there a fire?
TENNANT.No.
LESLIE.Bring it down, there’s a good chap. I like to take things comfortable. I’ll wait down here.
TENNANTgoes out R.
LESLIErises; goes back to the front room.
PERCY.I say, Charley—
CHARLEY.Well?
PERCY.I’ve got a rise.
CHARLEY.Congratulations—wish I had.
PERCY.Foster’s given me Beckett’s job.
CHARLEY.And Beckett?
PERCY.Well, he’s got the sack, you know. It’s a bit rough on him, but I couldn’t help it, could I?
CHARLEY.I suppose you’re doing it cheaper?
PERCY.That’s about the line. I’m awfully sorry for Beckett. He’s not young, and it’s awfully hard to get anything when you’re middle-aged.
CHARLEY.So I believe. Well, anyhow, you’re in luck—aren’t you?
PERCY.Yes, it’s sooner than I thought.
They sit in silence.
TENNANTre-enters, and goes into inner room.
I say, Charley, what did you start on?
CHARLEY.Eh? What d’ye mean?
PERCY.You—and—and Lily—you know.
CHARLEYlooks at him steadily.
CHARLEY.Oh, that’s it, is it?
PERCY.You didn’t begin with a house, of course.
CHARLEY.You know as well as I do that we had three rooms—and jolly small ones.
PERCY.Still you were comfortable.
CHARLEY.It was warm—winter and summer.
PERCY.It wasn’t very expensive?
CHARLEY.You have to choose your housekeeper carefully.
PERCY.If you’re going to chaff—
CHARLEY.Don’t be an idiot. You’ve now got ninety, I suppose. You can manage on that.
PERCY.You really think so?
CHARLEY.I know from experience.
PERCY.You don’t ask who the lady is?
CHARLEY.Sybil is a pretty little girl.
PERCY.Well, I suppose you did guess a bit.
CHARLEY.Not me! Maggie and Lil did it between them.
PERCY.Did it?
CHARLEY.Made the match—Maggie told me.
PERCY.[indignantly.] They did nothing of the kind. I met Sybil here and . . .
CHARLEY.’Um—um!
PERCY.We just came together—it was bound to be.
There is a sound of laughter outside andLILYandSYBILare seen carrying in cakes and lemonade.
CHARLEY.Sheispretty—
PERCY.Yes, in rather an unusual—
CHARLEY.But so are others.
PERCY.I say, old man.
CHARLEY.Well, aren’t they? I suppose you won’t listen to advice.
PERCY.What about?
CHARLEY.You’re too young to marry.
PERCY.I’m twenty-three. So were you when you married.
CHARLEY.I was too young.
PERCY.Do you mean. . . .
CHARLEY.[impatiently.] Oh, don’t look so scandalised. No, I’m not tired of Lily. It’s not that at all—but, are you satisfied to be a clerk all your life?
PERCY.I say, Tennant’s upset you. Of course I’m satisfied to be a clerk.
CHARLEY.Butareyou?
PERCY.[impatiently.] Don’t I say so?
CHARLEY.Have you ever felt a desire to kick your hat into the fire? Have you?
PERCY.No! Not yet!
CHARLEY.Not yet. There you are—but you will. Don’t you ever want to see anything more of the world—did you ever have that feeling?
PERCY.[a little thoughtfully.] Well, I did once. I wanted to go out with Robinson. But the dad wouldn’t consent. It was a bit risky, you know, and this job came along—and so I wouldn’t go.
CHARLEY.Did Robinson come back?
PERCY.No, he’s got a decent little place out there.
CHARLEY.They don’t all fail, then?
PERCY.Of course not—but lots do. I might be one of those.
CHARLEY.Well, the thing is if you ever thought of doing anything now’s your time. You can’t do it afterwards. Take my tip and don’t get engaged yet. You’re too young to decide such an important question.
PERCY.No younger than you were—and I must say. . . .
CHARLEY.Don’t be so touchy—can’t you see I’m talking to you for your good?
PERCY.I think you’re crazed.
CHARLEY.[sharply.] Why am I crazed, as you call it? Isn’t it because I know a little what your life is going to be? Haven’t I gone backwards and forwards to the city every day of my life since I was sixteen and am I crazed because I suggest it’s a bit monotonous? [Going close toPERCYand putting his hand on his shoulder solemnly.] I’m not saying she isn’t the right girl for you—I’m only suggesting that perhaps she isn’t! She’s pretty and she’s handy. . . .
PERCY.I say! I won’t have that.
CHARLEY.Don’t. Pass it over. It’s just this—think—and don’t marry the first pretty girl and live in three rooms because your brother-in-law did it.
PERCY.She wasn’t—the first pretty girl. . . .
SYBIL.[appearing at opening and smiling demurely.] Mrs. Wilson says—Oh, Mr. Wilson, have you been fighting?
CHARLEY.[suddenly remembering that he has his coat off.] I beg your pardon. [He pulls it on hastily.] [ToPERCY.] Remember!
PERCY.[with his eyes onSYBIL.] Rot! [Goes back withSYBIL.]
LILY.[coming towards him.] Who said anything about fighting? Now I suppose you’ve been arguing with everybody and shouted at them. You do get so cross when you argue—don’t you, dear? Supper is quite ready. I sent Sybil to tell you. . . .
CHARLEY.Sybil’s feeding Percy. She’s got all her work cut out.
LILY.How rude you are! Do you know, I’m quite angry with you. You’ve hardly been in the whole evening.
CHARLEY.Fenwick. . . .
LILY.Yes, I saw him. He looks so lifeless, don’t you think?
CHARLEY.He says I shall grow like him.
LILY.What an idea! Why, how could you?
TheCOMPANYmove about the two rooms, theMENhanding refreshments to theWOMEN—theyALLcome more forward.
LESLIE.What do you think—? I lost the 8.15 this morning!
CHARLEY.Should have thought it would have waited for you.
LESLIE.I left the house at the usual time and there was a confounded woman at the station with about five trunks and a paper parcel, who took up the whole doorway.
Much laughing fromSYBILand an encouraging smile fromLILY.
By the time I got over the train was gone. Never did such a thing in my life before.
LILY.Youhaven’t sung to us, Charley, dear.
MAGGIE.He’s tired.
LILY.Not too tired for that, are you?
SYBIL.Oh, do, Mr. Wilson, I know you sing splendidly. Per— Mr. Massey told me so.
PERCY.S’sh! don’t give me away—he’s my brother-in-law.
CHARLEY.Not to-night, Lil—I—I’m a little hoarse.
LILY.That’s being out in the garden at all hours.
LESLIE.Don’t say that, Mrs. Wilson. Your husband wants to go as a farmer in the Colonies—and you’ll discourage him.
LILY.You silly man, Mr. Leslie. [ToCHARLEY.] You must have something hot when you go to bed, dear.
LESLIE.I love being a little ill. My wife’s an awfully good nurse.
SYBIL.I believe you put it on sometimes, Mr. Leslie.
LESLIE.Well, do you know—I believe I do. Ladies won’t put their pretty fingers round your neck for nothing.But if you have a little hoarseness—not too much to be really unpleasant—or a headache is a very good thing—it is delightful—I always say to myself:
“O woman—in our hours of ease—
Uncertain, coy and hard to please,
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou.”
LILY.We ought to have “Auld Lang Syne”—
TENNANT.Please don’t.
LILY.It would be so nice for you to remember. [Going up L.] Yes, we must. Come. [She puts out her hands and makes themALLform a ring, with hands crossed and all round table.]
TENNANTandCHARLEYjoin most reluctantly and are not seen to sing a note.
There! That’s better.
SYBIL.Now I must go, Mrs. Wilson.
LILY.Must you really? Come and get your things.
They go out.
A tapping is heard at the window in the near room—MAGGIEruns and opens it.
VOICE.Is my husband there, Mrs. Wilson?
LESLIE.Y—es. I’m here. Coming, darling.
SYBILandLILYre-enter R.
LESLIE.My wife has sent for me home, Mrs. Wilson.
MAGGIE.Are you going over the wall?
SYBIL.Oh, do, Mr. Leslie—I should love to see you.
LESLIE.If it will give you any pleasure it shall be done, though I am not at my best on the fence.
They all crowd round—he shakes hands, smiling profusely, and disappears through the window.
VOICE.Mind the flower-pot. No—not there—that’s the dustbin. Not the steps.
There is a great shout to announce his safe arrival.
LESLIE.Safe!
SYBIL.I do think he is so funny!
LILY.Yes, isn’t he? Are you going by ’bus?
PERCY.I’mgoing Miss Frost’s way.
SYBIL.[much surprised.] Are you really?
MAGGIE.How extraordinary!
Much kissing betweenSYBIL,LILYandMAGGIE.SYBILandPERCYgo out.
LILY.She’s so sweet, isn’t she? And Percy’s so awfully gone.
MAGGIE.[as they start clearing away the dishes.] Very. So he was over Daisy Mallock and Ruby Denis—and who’s the other girl with the hair?
LILY.The hair? What do you mean?
MAGGIE.The one with the hair all over her eyes—nice hair, too.
LILY.Gladys Vancouver? Poor Percy—I’m afraid he is a little bit of a flirt.
MAGGIE.He’s got nothing else to do with his evenings.
LILY.And then people like Mr. Tennant think it’s a dull life.
MAGGIE.Well, good night all. No, don’t come out, Mr. Tennant—I’m quite a capable person.
TENNANT.Oh, but I shall—if you’ll allow me.
MAGGIE.I’d rather you didn’t—still, if you will. [They go out withLILY.]
CHARLEYlooks round and sighs with relief—he walks round, looks out of the window, then at the garden—he takes up the paper, but after trying in vain to settle to it, throws it on the floor—he re-fills his pipe and lights it. Re-enterTENNANT.
TENNANT.Well. [He pauses, butCHARLEYdoes not stir.] I say, Wilson, I never thought you’d take it like this.
CHARLEYdoes not answer, but only shifts restlessly.
I thought you’d think I was a fool too. In fact I was half ashamed to say anything about it. It wouldn’t do for most people, you know. I’m in an exceptional position, and even in spite of that they call me an ass. I’ve got a little cash, too.
CHARLEY.[quickly.] So have I.
TENNANT.Yes, but the cases are different. I can rough it.
CHARLEY.Let me have the chance to rough it.
TENNANT.You’re married.
CHARLEYdoes not reply.
You’re settled. Your friends are here. I’ve got nothing and nobody to worry about.
They both smoke in silence.
I say, don’t sit up and think. Go to bed.
CHARLEY.I’m going soon. Don’t stay up, old chap.
TENNANT.You’ll get over it.
He goes out.
EnterLILY—she pulls down blind and fastens catch of window.
LILY.I’m going up now. Don’t be long. You look so tired.
CHARLEY.[irritably.] Oh, don’t fret about me. I’m a little worried, that’s all.
LILY.[timidly.] Did Mr. Fenwick bring bad news? He looked miserable enough.
CHARLEY.[looking at her steadily.] Yes, I’m not going to have that rise.
LILY.Oh, dear—what a shame! Why?
CHARLEY.Lots of reasons—but that’s all.
LILY.Of course, you’re worried. Still—it might have been worse. You might have been sent away.
CHARLEY.Yes.
LILY.It’s very disheartening—after all we’d plannedto do with it. You won’t be able to have the greenhouse, now, will you, dear?
CHARLEY.[with a short laugh.] What’s the good of a greenhouse in that yard. It isn’t that.
LILY.[a little timidly.] But we can manage very well, dear. We—you remember what I said this morning—about the other lodger.
CHARLEY.Oh, don’t, for heaven’s sake. It isn’t losing the cash I mind; it’s having to give in like this. I want to go to them and tell them to do their worst and get somebody else.
LILY.But dear, you might lose your place.
CHARLEY.I should.
LILY.But that—we couldn’t afford that, could we? Why, we can manage quite well as we are. I can be very careful still—
CHARLEY.I’m tired of going on as we’ve been going.
LILY.What do you want to do?
CHARLEY.I—I want to go away. [Pause.]
LILY.And leave me?
CHARLEY.[suddenly remembering.] Oh—er—
LILY.It’s just that horrid Mr. Tennant—
CHARLEY.It’s nothing to do with him—at least. . . .
LILY.I said it was. He wants you to go with him—and you want to go—you’re tired of me—
CHARLEY.[going up to her and trying to speak gently but being very irritated—his voice is sharp.] Oh, don’t cry . . . you don’t understand. Look, Lil, supposing I went and you came out afterwards.
LILY.You want to go without me.
CHARLEY.I couldn’t take you, dear, but I would soon send for you; it wouldn’t be long.
LILY.You want to go without me. You’re tired of me.
CHARLEY.Oh, don’t cry, Lil. I didn’t say I was going.Of course I don’t want to leave you, dear. You mustn’t take any notice. [Attempting to take her in his arms.]
LILY.[turning away from him, sobs.] But you do. . . .
CHARLEY.I don’t want to go because I want to leave you. . . .
LILY.But you said. . . .
CHARLEY.Never mind what I said. [He kisses her and pets her like a child.] Come, go to bed. It’s the news—and the excitement about Tennant—and all that. Come, go back to bed and I’ll be up in a few minutes.
CHARLEYleads her to the door and coaxes her outside and stands at the door a few seconds, then he comes back into the room, stands still, looking round. He goes to the front parlour and hunts over the chairs and the piano as if in search of something. Finally he picks up a paper off the floor and brings to table—it is the map of Australia. He opens it on the table and leans over it, his pipe unnoticed burning out in his left hand.
CURTAIN