ACT III

ACT IIIDownstairs Again

Downstairs Again

A week later.Mr.andMrs. Freemanhave just finished tea. She is sewing; he is moving about.

Mr. Freeman: There’s going to be a first-class row in this house this afternoon. A first-classrow.... Is he up there?

Mrs. Freeman: I think so.

Mr. Freeman: Having tea?

Mrs. Freeman: It’s Florence’s day out. He has his tea down here on Thursdays.

Mr. Freeman(at the speaking-tube): Hullo!... John!Is that you?Are you up there!... What d’you mean “No!?”... I want a word with you.... When you’ve had your tea.... Yes; it’s waiting. (He comes away from the tube.) I’ll teach him to be funny!

Mrs. Freeman: Is he coming down?

Mr. Freeman: Yes. (He paces again) ... came like a thunderbolt; this afternoon was absolutely the first I’d heard of it.... I’ve a good mind to pop round and see Frankie, or her father; shouldn’t stay; be back here before he’s finished his tea; ... a week ago; never a word to anyone; a week—I didn’t tell you all about that evening; that girl up in his room; when I went in there she was ... well, never mind—and then this morning, he walks into my office, as calm as you like, and informs me, if you please, he does not intend to marry Frankie.... And that’s not all. Oh no. Not by anymeans. He’s going to leave the business.... Leave it ... throw the whole thing up.

Mrs. Freeman: What didyousay?

Mr. Freeman: I’m not quite sure. But whatever I said, it’s nothing to what I’m going to say! I’ve had about as much as I’m going to put up with!... It’s such a dam’ bad influence on Gwen, too.... D’you realise she’s only been in to dinner once this week?

Mrs. Freeman: Twice.

Mr. Freeman: Once.

Mrs. Freeman: Wednesday and Sunday.

Mr. Freeman: Oh yes. Sunday. Well, twice.... Where’s she been?

Mrs. Freeman: Out with Mr. ... Mr. ... John’s friend.

Mr. Freeman: The playwriting feller.

Mrs. Freeman: Yes.

Mr. Freeman: What! Every night?

Mrs. Freeman: I think so.

Mr. Freeman: I ask you!

Mrs. Freeman: He seems a very nice man.

Mr. Freeman: Does he?! I don’t care how nice he is, when it comes to taking my daughter out six times a week!

Mrs. Freeman: Five times.

Mr. Freeman: I’ve had enough. That’s what it amounts to. And my foot’s coming down—pretty hard.(He goes to speaking-tube again.) Hullo.... I want to see you; when you’ve had your tea; ... you’re not going out? very well; when you’ve had your tea. (He replaces the tube.) I think Iwilljust look round and see Frankie; and the old man, if he’s in; shan’t stay; because I’m coming back to talk to John ... a fine old rumpus; that’s what there’s going to be; back almost directly.

[He goes out. Alone,Mrs. Freemansews a few stitches; then rises, presses a bell, and returns to her sewing....Rosieenters.

Mrs. Freeman: Make a fresh pot of tea for Mr. John.

[Rosiefetches the teapot from the tray, and is retiring with it. At the door, she is stopped byMrs. Freeman’svoice.

Rosie!... Is anything the matter?

Rosie: No’m.

[She goes out. Alone,Mrs. Freemansews....Gwencomes in.

Gwen: Is he having tea upstairs?

Mrs. Freeman: No.

Gwen: Oh, it’s Thursday.

Mrs. Freeman: Did you have a nice lunch?

Gwen: Yes.

Mrs. Freeman: Was it with Mr. ... Mr. ... John’s friend?

Gwen: He’s got a good many friends.

Mrs. Freeman: Yes; but you know the one I mean—his special one.

Gwen: I lunched with Colin Mackenzie.

Mrs. Freeman: Oh yes; that’s it: Mackenzie. I never can remember. It’s such a difficult name. Nothing to get hold of. If it was Mackintosh ... rain or toffee;Mackenzie... Mackenzie ... he seems a very nice man.

Gwen: Not bad.

Mrs. Freeman(rising): I’ve ordered some fresh tea. I’m going into the drawing-room. (At the door.) You’ll be in to dinner to-night?

Gwen: Yes.

Mrs. Freeman: You won’t be going out at all?

Gwen: No.

Mrs. Freeman: I’m glad.

[She goes....Gwencrosses to the speaking-tube, and blows into it; she gets no answer; while she is doing this,Rosiereturns with the teapot. As she puts it down, she gives a sudden little sob.

Gwen(gently; but without surprise): Don’t cry.

Rosie: I can’t ’elp it.

Gwen: Would you mind if I told Mr. John?

Rosie: If you wants to.

[Johncomes in.

John: Hullo, Gwen.... Have they had their tea, Rosie?

[Rosie,being unable to answer, nods, and then sobs.Johnlooks enquiringly from her toGwen.

Rosie: Go on. Tell ’im.

Gwen: Rosie’s going to have a baby.

Rosie(utterly pitiful): It’s about finished me.

Gwen(to her brother): We can help, can’t we?

John: Of course.

Rosie(with sudden unexpected vigour; turning on him): It’s all very well foryou!

John(taken aback): Rosie!

Rosie: Standin’ theretalkin’!

John: But, Rosie.

Rosie: It’s allyourfault, anyhow!

John:Myfault!

Rosie: Yes.

John:Mine?

Rosie: Yes, yours.

Gwen: Oh, John!

John: Rosie, whatdoyou mean?

Rosie: I’d never of done it, if it ’adn’t been foryou. I’ve’eardyer.Talkin’!... “What ’arm is there in it?” “Why shouldn’t a girl ’ave a good time?” Next time you tell her that, you tell ’er what’ll ’appen to ’er.

John: ... Is he anybody you could marry?

Rosie: ’E’s married.

John: Oh!

Rosie: I’m frightened. I am, straight. (She stares at them, in vague terror.) You’re ’elpless; you know what I mean: you go into the next room, and it’s everywhere; you can’t get away from it. (Her look seems to hypnotisethem; they can find no words. She continues:) It’s bad enough when you’re married, and ’ave a ’usband to look after yer; and yer mother’s pleased.... I can’t never tell my mother. I can’t tell nobody.

Gwen: You’ve told us.

Rosie: Oh, it’s all right foryou, miss—youdon’t know. You can’t do nothing. I went to a chemist w’ot ’e told me of—a long way off it was, on a tram—and they as good as kicked me out. Then I goes to a doctor; I ’as to go alone. I rings the bell, and the man w’ot opened the door, ’e looked at me—’e seemed to know; and the doctor said ’e couldn’t do nothing. It’s finished me.

John: Let’s go upstairs. We’ll be quieter there.

Rosie: I’ve got t’go and ’elp cook. That Florence is out.

John: As soon as you can get off will you come upstairs?

Rosie: Yes. (She hesitates. Then:) ... I’m sorry—what I said. It’s kind o’ yer; then, you’rekindall right ... and if you’re a bit orf, you can’t ’elp it; I mean, you can’t reallyknow—can yer?... It’s an awful thing to ’appen to anyone ... you gets to ’ate yerself.

Gwen: Oh no. (She adds, rather lightly to help:) After all, it might happen to any of us.

Rosie(fiercely): Don’t you never let it ’appen toyou, miss. You take care you’as’im, safe, ’e’ll marry yer, before you does anything. Me! I lied awake all last night. Throw myself in the river—that’s about what I’m fit for now.

Gwen: Rosie!

Rosie: Well, other girls do, don’t they? Nobody couldn’t blame me then; p’r’aps they’d be sorry.... ’Ere, I must get. That old cook’ll be after me. She’s a one. Work’s something; stops yer thinkin’.

John: As soon as you’re finished, you’ll come back.

Rosie: Yes, sir.

John(gently but firmly): Now, look here, Rosie; you’ve told us and you’re not alone any more. And we’re going to stand by you and see you safe. See? Whatever happens, we’ll see you safe right through and out the other side.

Rosie: It’s kind o’ yer.

John: ’Tisn’t. We’re just all in the world together; that’s all.... You’re coming back as soon as you can get away from cook.

Rosie(with a ghost of a smile, as she goes): That cook! She’s a one!

[When she is gone, there is a short silence. Then:

Gwen: It must be awful.

John: Does this frighten you?

Gwen: It’s a bit of a red light.

John: How?

Gwen: Well ... you’ve got to remember when you talk about all this, itdoeshappen to people. It happened to the eldest Gillingham girl.... I didn’t know much about it; but she had the most terrible time.... You can imagine ... what Rosie said—helpless... awful. (She thinks for a while; then her eyes, wandering, light on the tea-things.) Do you want some tea?

John: Yes ... thanks.

[Gwenpours out his tea and gives it to him; and pours out her own and, sitting, stirs it, reflectively. These two are very fond of one another, and at ease together; there is a quality of gentleness in their bearing to each other.

Gwen: ... It doesn’t frighten me ... really ... not if you stop to think ... you needn’t have a baby, need you?

John: Nearly everybody, in our class, limits their families.

Gwen: If you make up your mind it’s not wrong to love without having children, it’s awfullyweakto change your mind just because someone else has one by mistake, isn’t it?

John: That’s true.

Gwen: But, Jacko ... you know ... all the same ... the people who are against you would pick on Rosie; they’d say, there’s a girl with her life ruined, and her baby’s life ruined; and if you had your way, there’d be more and more like her....

John: Fools!!

Gwen: Yes, but what’s the answer, Jacko?

[She speaks, and listens, always, with a simple direct eagerness for understanding, and points of view.

John: The answer!

Gwen: Yes.

John: ... Well ... in the first place: there are plenty of Roses, now, aren’t there?

Gwen: I suppose so.

John: Thousands. The streets are strewn with their petals; and the winds that strew them, blow out of unhappy homes.

Gwen: Yes.

John: Out of unsuccessful marriages; and lonely separations. They can’t boast such a success with their Roses, as thingsare.

Gwen: No.

John: And in the second place, if Rosie’d beenyourdaughter, or mine, she’d have had a different education about it all.... Wouldn’t she?

Gwen: Yes.

John: What Rosie knows, she knows from cinemas, and giggling talks with other girls and occasional young men. Whatever “teaching” she’s had, has been justDon’t.

Gwen: Yes. Just “Don’t. Don’t. Don’t; it’s wicked,” all the time.

John: Exactly; about its real possibilities, and its real dangers, she knew nothing; and along comes this man; and over she goes!... If she’d belonged to us, she’d have known what she was doing; either she wouldn’t have had an affair with this man at all—he’s apparently left her in the lurch—or, if it was a thing of real value in their lives, she wouldn’t have had a child; unless she wanted it; and was prepared to face up to the whole business.

Gwen: Yes.

John: And in the third place, now that ithashappened, half her trouble is herfear; the disgrace of it. If instead of cursing her, and blaming her, and pushing her away, people would help her, it wouldn’t be so very terrible.

Gwen: There’s her baby....

John: Gwen; an epileptic woman in a slum can have twelve children by a confirmed drunkard. Which is worse? That; or this baby of Rosie’s? But as long as it’s in “holy matrimony,” people can have dozens of children with no earthly chance of looking after them—and your moralists make no objection; but they’ll torture young Rosie till she thinks of suicide.... The whole question of children—I’m sure it’s a matter ofclear thinking. It’s so damned important we should think clearly.... Love between two people is a personal relationship.

Gwen: Yes.

John: I can’t see that anybody has a right to interfere.

Gwen: No.

John: But as soon as you have a child, it’s more than personal; it’s a social relationship.

Gwen: Yes.

John: And the Law oughtn’t to be concerned with the personal side of it at all; but with the social—with the obligations to the children.

Gwen: Yes.... What would you do about children in your trial marriages?

John: There oughtn’t to be any; not until they’ve set out to be permanent.

[Up to this point the talk has been quiet; they have been helping themselves, and each other, to their teas.[Now,Johnis impelled from within to move. His own convictions, with the sense of a world in opposition, trouble him; his sentences jerk out: all underlined, as it were.

[Up to this point the talk has been quiet; they have been helping themselves, and each other, to their teas.

[Now,Johnis impelled from within to move. His own convictions, with the sense of a world in opposition, trouble him; his sentences jerk out: all underlined, as it were.

John: But it’s just because as many permanent happy marriages as possible seems the best way it’s so damned important for people to make a good choice ... with full knowledge ... and so, with a real hope of being lasting and happy; and to help themoutwhen they’ve made a mistake ... it wouldn’t be so difficult if people would be open-minded and sane about it ... people just point out difficulties and dangers, and think they’ve smashed our case ... of course there’d be difficulties and unhappiness; love’s not simple ... but look at it allnow. That’s what they forget. Look at itnow....

When one thinks of the Prejudices, and Intolerance; of all theRighteousnessthat stands between us and a happier world, it drives one mad.... Have you walked through a slum lately?

Gwen: No.

John: I did; yesterday; ... thousands of babies rolling about in filth; and you only see them outside, where at least there’s a square inch of open sky above them.

Think of them inside. Whole families in one room. The mothers and fathers, growing brothers and sisters, and new-born babies; all together; day and night; in every city in the civilised world.... Think of it, for a moment ...intimately.... Good God! Talk aboutleading little children astray. A civilisation that tolerates it ought to have a millstone round its neck; ... as a matter of fact, it has; the thing itself is a millstone; dragging us down; fast.

Gwen: How?

John: How! Why: if anybody has the quality to rise out of it, he gets on at his job, marries above him and doesn’t have children. The worst are pouring out children, the best are more or less barren.

Gwen: But, John, if the worst are increasing so much the fastest, things may get worse and worse.

John: Of course.

Gwen: Then why doesn’t somebodydosomething!

John: For various reasons.

Gwen: What?

John: Religion doesn’t do anything because it thinks Birth Control wicked. Big Business doesn’t do anything, because it wants cheap Labour; the Governments don’t do anything because they want soldiers for the next war.

Gwen: The next war!

John: The next war.

Gwen: Jacko, do you think there is going to be a next war?

John: Who’s going to stop it? We’re all arming again as fast as we can go. Submarines and aeroplanes; blockade and starvation; bombs and poison gas from the air that’ll exterminate whole cities at a go! (He is speaking withgreat emphasis.) D’you realise one of the leading scientists of the world has said that the millions of London could be blotted out in three hours! You may say that’s an exaggeration; it may be; but at the rate science is going it won’t be in a few years. “Easy and inexpensive”—that’s what a Cabinet Minister said about poison gas; and they’re all making it; as fast as they can go; and fleets of aeroplanes to drop it.

Gwen: Do you mean that the children I may have, or you may have, may be just wiped out in another war, more terrible than the last?

John: Why not? When nations are armed to the teeth, the arms go off, sooner or later. It always has been so; there’s no reason why it should be any different now; unless there was a change of spirit; and there’s no sign of that. Why should there be? The old ideas are still in power; all over the world; the very same men mostly; you see,theysurvive wars!

Gwen: But can’twedo something? Why should we have children for that?

John: My dear, they laugh atus. And at anybody else who suggests they aren’t wisdom incarnate ... unless we ever became effective against them; then they’d find a way of downing us. You’ve only got to read the newspapers: speeches by generals, and admirals—and bishops; threatenings by politicians; in every country; the old financial interests at work under it all; and the great mass of the people, in every country, struggling all day just to exist, absolutely incapable of independent thought, and ready to believe what any newspaper tells them three days running.

Gwen: John! ... if it’s like that, what’s the good of anything! It doesn’t seem worth going on, or trying.

John: Oh yes, it’s worth it. If the smash comes the few ideals that are left will float upward, and have some influence on what comes next. Something’s got to come next!... Mencouldfree themselves from war.

Gwen: Could they?

John: And from all the other forces that make them suffer so. They’re not natural forces; they’re forces men have made.

Gwen: Then why don’t they?

John: ... And it isn’t for want of courage or nobility.

Gwen: Then why?

John: There’s nowillto do it, and that’s because there’s no understanding.... I often think, now, of being in the trenches.

Gwen: Do you?

John: There was a joy in it; at first, anyhow.

Gwen:Yousay that!

John: Comradeship.

Gwen: The friends you made....

John: No. The strangers on the road, day and night, at the same task; one’s rest and play only to give one strength for it; apurposethat gave meaning to every moment.

Gwen: Oh, Jacko, something in me leaps to that.

John: For five years the men under forty worked together, sacrificed everything they had in life, every hope, prospect, comfort; they underwent suffering, physical suffering and moral suffering, absolutely inconceivable to those who stayed at home, so that to give their lives at the end of it was often a relief ... and they won! By God, Gwen, if the men over forty with the money and the power would get together and workone-twentiethas well, and sacrificeone-hundredthof their personal comfort, what mightn’t they make of the victory—but they won’t! They won’t, because they see no reason why they should. They’ve got nofaithto make them. They’ve got nothing great tobelieve in.... To-day, the wisest of men are cynical, and the cleverest are rich, and none are happy.... There’s no great purpose outside our own lives to give them harmony and meaning. Ask the ordinary people, in the streets, and tubes, and ’buses ... what they’re livingfor; they don’t know.... All the oldduties—our duty to our parents; to our country; to God; they’ve been prostituted; they demanded our blood; and took it; and gave us nothing in return but a dreadful sense of futility ... we’ve got to find something truer to believe in....

Gwen: Can we find something?

John: I believe so.

Gwen: What?

John: ... Why not, just ... our duty to our fellows.... Suppose we all started in with that as aReligion; with half the will we went to war; a common purpose so deeply felt that everybody was ready to spend their lives for it, and make any sacrifices that were calledfor; I’d be a parson if that was religion, teaching that common purpose—just to clear up the mess a bit; so that the generation that’s waiting just outside the doors of existence, should come in and find it a happier place; it ’ud be a dam’ sight happier place for those in itnow, anyhow! and we’d soon do away with any fear of another war; that ’ud be something.

Gwen: John, do you think there’s a hope?

John: There’s always hope—in the young people.

Gwen: Do you believe that?

John: What other hope is there? There are millions and millions waiting to be born; they haven’t got all the prejudices and hatreds that cause the trouble; they get ’em from us; we’ve got to give ’em something better.

Gwen: And shall we?

John: If we don’t, they’ll go through all the hell that we’ve been through, probably a worse hell than anything we’ve known yet—in this country, anyhow—and then their children, and their children’s children, will try again.

Gwen: Butnow! Can’t we do anything now?

John: I don’t know.

Gwen: We ought to try.

John: That’s what I feel. That’s why I’m chucking the business.

Gwen: What are you going to do?

John: Follow my urge! That’s all I can do.

Gwen: What’s that mean?

John: I’ve got a few hundred pounds in the bank; and I’m selling my piano, and everything else I can. I’m going to write; and think and read; and get into touch with any others I can, who feel as we do.

Gwen: Yes. What are you going to write?

John: I want to try and write something for the ordinary sort of person, who’s just lost and discontented. Therearesome.

Gwen: Heaps and heaps.

John: That might be my job; it’s not much; when one talks ofdoing, what can onedo, oneself, seems so inadequate. But it would have been a poor excuse before a tribunal: “I’m not going to join up.” “Why?” “I don’t see myself winning the war single-handed” ... plenty only stopped a bullet going into something else. I may only encourage somebody else to do something.

Gwen: You’re lucky having something you know you ought to do. I wish I had.

John: You have!

Gwen: What?

John: There’s one way all our lot can help: it’s probably the best way, too.

Gwen: What is it?

John: To live by what you believe, which is difficult ... and not by what you don’t believe, which is easy.

Gwen: Yes.

John: If you can, you’re a fanatic! But I believe you’ve got to have something of a fanatic in you to doanything worth while these days. The thing is to keep one’s fanaticism, and to keep one’s humanity.

Gwen: Jacko! Itisimportant to live what you believe, isn’t it?

John:Ithink so; tremendously; I think, if this generation misses its opportunity,which it may, it’s because we’ve lost the old beliefs and haven’t taken the trouble to get a new one for ourselves.

Gwen: Yes. Oh, there are such heaps of people “lost and discontented”; I know such heaps of girls like that. They just don’t know where they are; they make an awful mess of things sometimes.

John: You do, if you don’t know where you are. You know, if we’re not careful, there’ll be a period of aimless licence, and then reaction. It’s a critical time all right. A puritan reaction; and all the old inhibitions and denials and secreciesclamped downon our children again.

Gwen: It makes everything seem unimportant except doing one’s bit; doesn’t it?

John: Yes.

Gwen: It’s funny that just when I’m beginning to feel like that, thereissomething in my life that’s important.

John: What?

Gwen: You won’t laugh!

John: Of course not.

Gwen: I only wish it didn’t seem so important ... you won’t laugh?

John: You’ll get a clump on the head in a minute, if you keep on asking me not to laugh ... what is it?

Gwen: I’m in love.

John: Colin?

Gwen: Oh damn! Is it so obvious?

John: ’Tisn’t obvious a bit; up to a second ago I hadn’t a notion; but you’ve seen a good deal of him these last two weeks, haven’t you?

Gwen: He’s taken me out nearly every day; theatres and dinners; I’ve never had such a time.

John: Does he love you?

Gwen: I don’t think so; I don’t think he cares a bit more for me than for all the others he takes about. I’m a fool! I dread every time I see him in case I should find out it’s no good; but every time he goes away, life’s just waiting for the next time I see him!

John: Are you sure?

Gwen:Sure?How?

John: That you love him?

Gwen: Yes.

John: Enough to marry him?

Gwen: Yes.

John: By jove, Gwen, I’d like you to.

Gwen(brokenly): Oh, Jacko....

[A knock at the door.

John: Come in.... Hullo, Colin!

Colin(coming in): Hullo.... Hullo, Gwen. Good afternoon.

John: Have some tea? It’s quite cold.

Colin: No, thanks.

Gwen: I’ll make some in a moment.

Colin: You’ve had yours....

Gwen(rising): I’ll make some more.

Colin: No. Don’t you go.... (ToJohn.) Canyoumake tea?

John: Yes.

Colin: I’ll have some ifyoumake it.

John: I don’t make it in this house; I don’t know where the things are kept.

Colin: Well, could you go and buy some cigarettes?

John: I’ve got some!

Colin: Could you run out and post a letter?

John(with a grin): I haven’t got any to post!

Colin: Then go out into the street, and go up to the first person you meet, and ask them to teach you to take a hint.

John: You want to be left alone!

Colin: You’re very bright this afternoon.

[Johngoes straight out of the room.... A sudden silence falls....Colintakes out his cigarette-case, and helps himself to one; and puts it back ... and takes it out again.

I beg your pardon ... will you?

Gwen: No, thanks.

[He puts it back, and lights his cigarette ... the silence grows again.

Gwen: I think I will.

[He takes out his case; she takes a cigarette, and he lights it for her.

Colin: ... lovely day it’s been.

Gwen: Yes.

Colin(suddenly):I say, Gwen!——

[A knock at the door.

Come in.

John: Sorry! It’s raining! I’ll be upstairs. Give me a blow when I can come down.

Colin: Seems a bit changeable!!

Gwen: Yes.

Colin(throwing away his cigarette, he starts again with the same suddenness of tone):Gwen!... What would you say if I asked you to marry me?

Gwen: ... are you being serious?

Colin: Yes.

[He comes quickly to her where she is sitting; he speaks crisply.

I want to kneel down, but I can’t. Stand up.

[She does. They are standing close ... they remain so for a moment, and then kiss.

Colin: Then it’s all right?

Gwen: Yes.

Colin: Thank God. I wish I’d said this days ago.

Gwen: So do I.

Colin: Do you?

Gwen: No I don’t. I don’t want anything to be different. Oh, Colin, you’ve taken such a load off my mind!...

Colin(roughly): Come here!

[He takes her and kisses her again; they part; he strides away from her.

Oh my God! I am happy! (His eyes fall on the tea-tray.) Have some cold tea?

[She shakes her head; he pours himself out some.

My throat’s as dry as a bone. (He drinks.) Come to dinner to-night?

Gwen: Yes.

Colin: And to-morrow?

Gwen: Yes.

Colin: And lunch?

Gwen: You’re lunching with someone.

Colin: I’ll put ’em off.

Gwen: You oughtn’t to.

Colin: Yes, I ought.

Gwen: I’m so glad you will.

Colin: Oh, my dear!—it’s difficult to talk sense. Let’s try. I don’t want to wait. Do you?

Gwen: I don’t think I could.

Colin: When shall we get married?

Gwen: Not yet.

Colin: But we don’t want to wait.

Gwen: No.

Colin: Then what do you mean?

Gwen: Don’t let’s get married yet.

Colin: Oh don’t let’s have any more of thatrot! (And, because his nerves are on edge, he makes it sound more explosive than he meant. Realising, he adds, mitigatingly:) I mean, it may be all right when you’re not serious, but when you are, it’s no good.

Gwen: It’s not “rot” to me.

Colin: Well—perhaps not; butweneedn’t be mixed up in it.

Gwen: Leave it to somebody else.

Colin: Yes! pray God, yes! Look here, I love you. Please understand that. Quite certainly. With everything in me, for always.

Gwen(very gently, to herself): Oh, Colin!

Colin: I’ve been very lonely; with everything I wanted—unhappy. You’ve changed all that. I want everything now, for you.

Gwen(softly): It’s a miracle!

Colin: It’s a fact. But I know what I want; d’you see? ... that’s going to give me the power to get it—for both of us. All this experimenting business. It’s no good. I’ve finished with it!

Gwen: You’vefinishedwith it!

Colin: Yes.

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