ACT III.

_Garden of the_ REACH HASLAMS' _house in Palace Gardens. House front to the left. At the back, shrubberies and trees. In centre, an arbour or pergola, with the open side to the footlights. Under the shelter of this a table, with remains of a meal._

TIME: _Next morning 4 a.m. Magnificent sunrise_.

CEDRIC _is sitting at the table, having finished eating. He is still in evening dress, and dishevelled._

(_Enter_ CHARLES _through shrubberies from back. He wears the same costume as in previous act, with hat, stick, etc._)

CEDRIC. Hello?

CHARLES. So _you're_ here, are you?

CEDRIC. (_Wiping his mouth._) I am.

CHARLES. Well, what's happened?

CEDRIC. What do you mean?

CHARLES. What do I mean? You and Flora, of course!

CEDRIC. Nothing more.

CHARLES. Then is it off?

CEDRIC. (_With a nervous laugh._) Right bang off! (_Pause._)

CHARLES. You look as if you'd been up all night.

CEDRIC. (_Nods._) What time is it? My watch has stopped.

CHARLES. About four. I'm a trifle late. (_Sits down to table._) Well, my boy, I've got a bit of news for you. I don't know whether it'll influence you, but---- (_startled_). Look here, have you been eating my supper?

CEDRIC. Was it for you?

CHARLES. I must say this really is a bit too thick!

CEDRIC. How should I know it was for you?

CHARLES. Of course you knew!

CEDRIC. It was all laid here. The fact is, I went off to sleep. I must have slept solid for about four hours. When I woke up just now, I was as hungry as a dog, so I just--I never thought----

CHARLES. Never thought be damned!

CEDRIC. Awfully sorry. Here's some bread. What's this news?

CHARLES. (_Taking bread._) What's the good of being sorry? It was entirely on account of you I had no tea yesterday and no dinner either, and now I'm dashed if you haven't gone and eaten my supper too!

CEDRIC. What's this news?

CHARLES. (_Eating._) If I hadn't had some sultana at the office I don't know what I should have done. I've a good mind not to tell you! (_Taking paper from his pocket._) Here! This is a second edition, just off the machines (_opening paper_). Oh, curse! Mind the ink! (_Looking at his hands, after giving paper to_ CEDRIC, _who examines it_.) There you are! (_indicating a paragraph in the paper_).

(CEDRIC _reads, then rises_.)

CEDRIC. (_After reflection._) See here, boy. You just go to bed out of the way and don't ever let on that you've shown me this paper or even knew what there was in it. Do you hear? (_Putting paper in his pocket._)

CHARLES. I hear. But why?

CEDRIC. Never mind why.

CHARLES. But the newsagent will deliver the mater's copy here at eight o'clock, and by half-past eight you may bet everybody in the place----

CEDRIC. I'm going to do something long before eight o'clock.

CHARLES. What are you going to do?

CEDRIC. I'm going to see Flora, and tell her I've altered my view completely. If she knew I'd seen the paper she'd be bound to think I'd only come round because of _that_, and she wouldn't listen to me--don't you see, idiot?

CHARLES. I see. But haven't you altered your view because of that?

CEDRIC. (_Coldly._) What's that got to do with you? The point is that at any rate I can go honeymooning now with a free mind. That's the point.

CHARLES. And do you reckon all this'll be on the straight?

CEDRIC. I don't care whether it's on the straight or not. (_Savagely._) _I've got to have that woman_--confound her! and I'm going to.

CHARLES. Where is she?

CEDRIC. She's in the spare room next to the mater's.

CHARLES. And how do you intend to get at her?

CEDRIC. I'm going to call her, and ask her to dress and come down at once. Then I shall talk to her, here. With a bit of luck I may be off with her and on the way to Colchester at six o'clock. Is there plenty of petrol in the stable?

CHARLES. Yes. I say--it's not _right_, you know!

CEDRIC. Shut up. (_Going._) Did Fisher clean the car last night?

CHARLES. How do I know? He ought to have done. I say----

CEDRIC. (_Stopping._) Well?

CHARLES. I suppose you don't want any advice from me?

CEDRIC. No. (_Turns and stops again._) What?

CHARLES. I was only going to say that you'd better change those clothes and make yourself look less of an absolute waster.

CEDRIC. Well, of course! I expect I can dress quicker than she can, can't I? I've thought of all that.

(_He turns finally to leave._)

(_Enter_ FLORA _from house, meeting him. She is fully dressed in morning street attire, and carries a handbag._)

FLORA. (_Staggered._) _Good_ morning!

CEDRIC. (_Staggered._) Good _morning_!

CHARLES. Hello, Flo! What's the meaning of this?

FLORA. Couldn't sleep.

CEDRIC. (_Hastily and nervously._) I shall be down in two jiffs. (_Aside to_ CHARLES.) See you don't let her go. (_Exit into house._)

FLORA. I guessed you'd be having your supper just about now. That's why I came down here.

CHARLES. (_Pleased._) That's fine. Only I'm not having my supper. Cedric's eaten it all. He's been out here all night, and he's eaten it all--except this (_showing bread_).

FLORA. My poor boy! But here's a couple of bananas. Have you ever tried banana sandwiches?

CHARLES. No. Are they any good?

FLORA. Are they any good! Never had a banana sandwich! Shall I make you some?

CHARLES. I wish you would. (_Silence, while she sets about sandwiches._)

FLORA. Well, how long shall I have to wait?

CHARLES. Wait?

FLORA. To hear what happened to Mr. Frampington, of course. Did they take him in at Bow Street?

CHARLES. Oh, yes.

FLORA. Do you know--I'm rather sorry. Somehow I should have liked him to get clear away. Here! (_Gives him a sandwich, which he eats. Then solemnly_) Now, Charlie, I'm going. I want to be gone before anybody's up.

CHARLES. What occurred last night?

FLORA. Oh! terrific scenes! terrific scenes! and I really can't face your mother this morning at breakfast. I couldn't do it. And it's quite unnecessary. So I'm going to the Great Western Hotel. I shall pretend I've arrived by a night train. And I want you to see that my trunks are brought there later. Here! (_Gives him another sandwich._)

CHARLES. All serene! Thanks! (_After thought._) I say--_I_ rather like Frampington, too.

FLORA. Why?

CHARLES. I don't know. It's due to him--somehow--I feel like you feel.... I say, Flora, has it ever occurred to you that I'm a mere cipher in this house?

FLORA. Really?

CHARLES. I'm nobody. I'm pitched about everywhere.

FLORA. You don't mean--my trunks?

CHARLES. Not a bit. Of course I don't. I mean the way they treat me. Here Cedric's a perfect duke, in his own line. But will he have me on the works? Not much. Says I must strike out for myself, and all sorts of tommyrot. And in the end I'm set to night-work like a blooming nigger. People might think we were hard up for five quid a week, instead of simply rolling in coin--rolling in it! Why shouldn't I go round the world or something! I'm only twenty-two.

FLORA. That all?

CHARLES. I go out and work all night. Then I come home and discover Cedric couldn't find anything better to do than eat my supper. Five servants in this house. But do you suppose there'd have been the least chance of me getting anything to eat before eight o'clock, at the earliest, if you hadn't invented these sandwiches? Not much! Thanks! (_Takes two more._) But that's not what I meant. What I really meant was--who introduced my people to you? I did. I knew you at the Baths Club six months before his lordship Cedric and the mater kindly invited themselves to have tea with me there, and then I didn't count any more! Cedric simply shovelled me up and chucked me into a corner. In less than twenty-four hours he was in love with you. But did he ask my permission? Did he think about me for one instant? Not much! The fact is, they simply make use of me ... and so--I rather like Frampington. Understand?

FLORA. Yes.

CHARLES. Of course, I'm sorry about what's happened--as far as you are concerned. But as far as Cedric's concerned, I can't help thinking it serves him jolly well right. Cedric's too cocksure--in everything.

FLORA. That's quite true.

CHARLES. (_Hesitating._) Yes.

FLORA. What else have you got on your mind?

CHARLES. Well, I don't know if I ought to tell you.

FLORA. Certainly you ought to tell me.

CHARLES. You think so?

FLORA. Unless, of course, you agree with all the things your dear mother's been saying to me.

CHARLES. It's about Klopstock.

FLORA. About Klopstock?

CHARLES. He's had an accident.

FLORA. What?

CHARLES. Broken his leg.

FLORA. How? Came down too quickly?

CHARLES. No. Driving to his hotel last night his motor ran into a statue of Bismarck, and he was thrown out.

FLORA. Motor cars are really too dangerous. I wonder any aviator cares to trust himself to them.

CHARLES. (_Admiringly._) Now it's very funny. I often want to say things like that, only I can never think of them. Cedric--he can come out with them sometimes, and so can the dad. But you're the only woman I ever struck that could.

FLORA. Charlie, you're a dear. I suppose he'll be laid up for five or six weeks.

CHARLES. Who? Klopstock? You bet. You see what it means?

FLORA. Quite. What I don't see is why you should have hesitated to tell me about it. I suppose you've told Cedric?

CHARLES. Yes. I brought an early copy of the paper with it in.

FLORA. Where is it?

CHARLES. Cedric's cleared off with it.

FLORA. Well, if Cedric knows, why shouldn't I?

CHARLES. Ask me another! Look here, I'm giving the show away, but I've got my conscience to think of. This is a serious matter. I mean--really serious! I don't like it, but it's my duty to warn you.

FLORA. Well?

CHARLES. Cedric told me I wasn't to say a word. He said I wasn't to let on that I'd told _him_.

FLORA. And did you promise?

CHARLES. I should think I didn't. Not me!

FLORA. Had Cedric been out here all _night_?

CHARLES. Yes. Told me he slept like a top in that chair, then woke up and ate my supper.

FLORA. But why should he want you not to say anything about Klopstock? (_Enter_ CEDRIC, _in a lounge suit, somewhat awry, with a hat_. FLORA _continues in the same tone to_ CHARLES.) Here, have this last one (_offering him another sandwich. To_ CEDRIC). It appears you've been eating what doesn't belong to you. So I've done my best with bananas and stale bread to fill the breach.

CHARLES. (_Nervous._) You've forgotten your hair, my boy.

CEDRIC. (_With a gesture; low to_ CHARLES.) Hook it! (_He repeats the gesture._)

(_Exit_ CHARLES _unwillingly, into house_.)

FLORA. (_Primly._) I'm just going. I meant to leave before any of you were up. I thought that would be the wisest thing to do. But Charles begged me to stop and look after him a bit.

CEDRIC. What's he been entertaining you with?

FLORA. Oh! his grievances. They're rather real, you know.

CEDRIC. Do you know, when I went in just now I was meaning to knock at your door and ask you to get up at once. Curious thing, that you should have been coming downstairs at that very moment!

FLORA. Why this desire to begin the day so early?

CEDRIC. Look here, Flora, let's go, now! Fisher won't be up, but the car's cleaned and there's plenty of petrol. Come on. Just you and I.

FLORA. (_Innocently._) Where?

CEDRIC. Chelmsford. I can wake the Bishop and tell him we want the job done at eight o'clock instead of twelve. Any old verger and charwoman will do for witnesses. The thing will be all over before the mater's out of bed. We can telephone to 'em from Chelmsford with the pleasing news. (_Pause. As_ FLORA _says nothing, he continues, rather less confidently_.) It'll give 'em an appetite for breakfast.

FLORA. (_Ironically._) Any other details?

CEDRIC. (_With rough persuasiveness._) Come on!

FLORA. (_Ironically._) Then you've decided that we are to get married, after all?

CEDRIC. Well, a marriage can't be broken off like--like this! It's unthinkable. What would any unprejudiced outsider say, if he was asked? He'd say we were off our blooming heads. The thing simply won't bear examination. (_Moves towards her._) Come----

FLORA. And I'm to be carried by storm?.... Great saving of argument!

CEDRIC. Now listen----

FLORA. Well?

CEDRIC. Will you talk man to man? Straight?

FLORA. As one honest Injun to another!

CEDRIC. (_Picking up a dish off the table._) If you make one more joke, I'll smash every darned bit of crockery on this table. (_Gesture of destruction._)

FLORA. (_Coldly._) Now if I agree to listen quietly and talk reasonably, it mustn't be understood that I'm open to argument. (_Sits down._)

CEDRIC. All right, all right!

FLORA. Because I'm not. I'm not. I'm not. The thing that's--that's really upset our applecart may seem perfectly childish to the unprejudiced outsider. But I don't propose to consult the unprejudiced outsider. Might as well take the case before a jury and engage a couple of K.C.'s. You know as well as I know that it isn't perfectly childish. It isn't childish at all. Its fundamental. We've been unlucky. But then in another sense we've been lucky. We're free. We aren't tied, thank Heaven. Man to man, Cedric, it would be too much humiliation--yes, humiliation--for me to marry anybody that looks on marriage as you look on it. And as it's just as impossible for you to change your opinion as it is for me to change mine, we shan't exactly go down to Colchester this morning.... More's the pity.

CEDRIC. Well, I _have_ changed my opinion. So let's go.

FLORA. You've changed your opinion? How have you changed your opinion?

CEDRIC. I've sat there all this blessed night thinking it over.

FLORA. Really?

CEDRIC. Yes. Do you suppose I could sleep any more than you could? What do you take me for? The more I thought it over, the more I saw I'd been mistaken. Now--half a minute! I can't honestly blame myself, you know. And so I won't pretend to--especially as we're talking straight. I told you what I felt, right out, and then I offered to give way. I couldn't do anything else. Well, you wouldn't have that. Mind you, I think you were quite right in refusing to let me give way against my better judgment. I admire you for that even more than I did. But I don't give way now against my judgment--I give way with it.

FLORA. But how has your judgment altered? Why?

CEDRIC. I don't know. How _do_ people's judgments alter? I gradually saw the force of what you'd said. _Of course_ a man's marriage must come in front of everything else! _Of course_ the idea of letting any business matter interfere with the honeymoon is monstrous! I cannot imagine how it was I couldn't see that yesterday. The only explanation is that up to yesterday I'd never lived for anything except my job. Force of habit! One has to get a bit used to a new state of affairs. I suppose it was the sudden shock of the news that sent me a bit off the track. Look here, Flora, you don't want me to go on in this strain. You don't want me to grovel. I'm not the grovelling sort ... I was mistaken.

FLORA. (_In a new quiet tone._) Cedric, what happened in your mother's study after I went upstairs last night?

CEDRIC. Nothing whatever. I cleared out instantly afterwards. I've been here ever since, and I haven't spoken to a soul except Charlie. Why?

FLORA. Nothing.

CEDRIC. But why do you say "Nothing" like that?

FLORA. Cedric, I was just wondering how this conversation of yours really did come about. It occurred to me that perhaps something might have happened--in business----

CEDRIC. (_Nervous._) How--"something"--in business?

FLORA. Something--I don't know--something that would leave you free after all for a full month, so that in being converted you wouldn't have to sacrifice anything at all.

CEDRIC. But how could anything have happened?

FLORA. I don't know, but with that telephone so handy in your mother's study---- All manner of things happen nowadays over the telephone--especially in the middle of the night.

CEDRIC. (_Relieved. Affecting a cheerful irony._) What notions she does get into her head! My dear girl, nothing whatever has happened--so far as I know. Of course nothing _could_. My conversion, as you call it, is due simply and solely to my thinking things over.

FLORA. Honour bright?

CEDRIC. (_Firmly._) Certainly!... Then you really imagined I was capable of such a--you couldn't trust me----

FLORA. It isn't _you_ I couldn't trust. It's the human nature _in_ you that I had my doubts about. It's always so apt to get the better of people, and make them play tricks they'd never dream of by themselves.

CEDRIC. (_Shocked but forgiving._) Fluff!

FLORA. (_Somewhat coldly._) I'm only being man to man.

CEDRIC. Look here, Flora, it's barely twelve hours since that vulgar idiot Klopstock shoved himself into our honeymoon. Barely twelve hours. We were in love with each other up till then, weren't we? (_Silence._) Weren't we?

FLORA. (_Primly._) Yes.

CEDRIC. Very much? (_Silence._) I say very much?

FLORA. (_More primly._) Yes.

CEDRIC. Well, if you know as much about human nature as you make out, you know perfectly well that we must still be very much in love with each other. I mean _now, here_! Anyone might think, to hear some of the talk that went on last night, and even to see us at this moment, that we didn't care twopence for each other. But a passion won't be knocked on the head like that. You can't get over it--we're still damnably in love. We've had a row--good! It's been an infernal nuisance--good! I've been an ass, if you like--good! And what then? You're in love with a man who's been an ass--that's all. But you _are_ in love with him. Moreover, he's ceased to be an ass!... Now, Flora, one ass is enough. Are you going to listen to reason or not?

FLORA. But your mother----

CEDRIC. (_Picking up a piece of crockery and dashing it violently to the ground; then, controlling himself, after a pause, in a low, tense voice._) My mother be blowed!

(_A pause._ MR. _and_ MRS. REACH HASLAM _appear at the house-door. They show surprise at the spectacle of_ FLORA _and_ CEDRIC _with an appealing undecided gesture_.)

FLORA. (_Advancing to meet_ CEDRIC.) Cedric!

(FLORA _suddenly perceives_ MR. _and_ MRS. REACH HASLAM _and completely changes her attitude, going towards them_.)

MRS. R. HASLAM. Really----

FLORA. (_Lightly._) So we've _all_ got up with the sparrows!

MR. R. HASLAM. No. These two particular sparrows have just come out for a breath of air before retiring to their nest for the day. (_Yawns._)

MRS. R. HASLAM. Work is work, young lady, and insists on being done (_with meaning_), whatever else happens or does not happen.

FLORA. Ah! The birthrate article--has the poor thing been declining all this time?

CEDRIC. (_Anxious for his parents to depart._) Mother, you ought to go to bed at once--you look absolutely exhausted.

MRS. R. HASLAM. Is it surprising? I was just saying to your father that if this kind of thing was likely to occur often I should have to devise some way of procuring tea at sunrise.

FLORA. But do you want some tea?

MRS. R. HASLAM. I never want what I can't have. I shall doubtless hold out till eight o'clock.

CEDRIC. Couldn't the dad make you some?

MRS. R. HASLAM. Impossible, child! At four o'clock in the morning!

MR. R. HASLAM. The cook always locks up the kitchen to keep Cuthbert and Fisher out.

CEDRIC. Seems odd that in a house like this you can't have a cup of tea whenever you happen to want it!

MRS. R. HASLAM. (_Coldly resenting this criticism of her housekeeping._) Father, shall we go?

FLORA. May _I_ give you some tea?

MRS. R. HASLAM. It's very good of you to offer me tea in my own garden, but----

FLORA. (_With great charm._) Not at all. (_Opening her bag._) I have my Thermos. I filled it yesterday before starting. You see, we had no programme, and I didn't know where we might ultimately be landed. Besides, I never travel without it. (_She unscrews the Thermos flask and pours out the steaming tea into the patent cover. Then undoes a little packet containing sugar._) One lump, isn't it? (_Handing the cup, with a spoon, to_ MRS. REACH HASLAM, _who accepts it_.) Sit down and drink it. I guessed about forty places where I _might_ pour that tea out--and they were all wrong! (MRS. REACH HASLAM _discovers that the tea is scalding_.) It _is_ hot, isn't it?

MRS. R. HASLAM. (_Sipping._) I'm afraid you didn't sleep very well, Flora.

FLORA. Why?

MRS. R. HASLAM. You're down so exceedingly early.

FLORA. The fact is, I could not get off to sleep.

MR. R. HASLAM. (_Half to himself._) I put a complete set of my wife's novels in each of the spare bedrooms only yesterday. (_With a faint air of being puzzled._)

FLORA. Another cup?

MRS. R. HASLAM. No, thanks. Excellent.

FLORA. I'm so glad I was here. You know, it's quite easy to have tea at any hour of the night. But of course, with all your other work, you can't be troubled with the little details of housekeeping.

MRS. R. HASLAM. (_Nettled._) My _other_ work!... No doubt when you're settled down with Cedric you will be able to show him what true housekeeping really is.

FLORA. Settled down with Cedric!

MRS. R. HASLAM. My dear, I had intended to make no comment on the singular coincidence of you and Cedric being here in the garden at four in the morning. I did not mean to inquire into the significance of this broken crockery, nor of your attitude and tone to Cedric before you caught sight of me. But I am a trained observer. You may remember that last night----

CEDRIC. Mater, why don't you go to bed?

MRS. R. HASLAM. You may remember that last night I hinted that before very long you'd probably be throwing yourself into Cedric's arms (_benevolently_). And I'm delighted to see that pride has not stood in your way. Delighted! How you got him down here into the garden I don't know, and it doesn't matter. (_Slight pause._)

FLORA. (_To_ CEDRIC.) Anything to say?

CEDRIC. You're quite wrong, mother. The fact is I've now come to the conclusion that Flora was perfectly right last night.

MRS. R. HASLAM. About what?

CEDRIC. In arguing that _nothing_ ought to stand in the way of the honeymoon. And I've just been telling her so.

FLORA. But he forgot to tell me that there _is_ nothing now to stand in the way of the honeymoon.

MRS. R. HASLAM. What do you mean?

FLORA. Klopstock has broken his leg and can't move for at least six weeks. (_Startled movement by_ CEDRIC. _Quietly gracious, to_ CEDRIC.) Didn't you know? (_Silence._) Cedric, didn't you know?

CEDRIC. (_With gruff reluctance._) Yes ... of course, Charlie gave me away?

FLORA. Charlie merely told me, as he told you.

MRS. R. HASLAM. Everything is all right, then.

FLORA. Do you think so? Cedric and I were supposed to be talking like honest Injuns----

MRS. R. HASLAM. Honest Injuns?

FLORA. Well, as man to man, then. Anyway, straight! And yet he positively assured me that nothing had happened, to influence him except my arguments. Whereas the fact was he knew that owing to this broken leg he could go away with a perfectly easy conscience. My arguments hadn't influenced him at all. His principles haven't really changed at all! But now he's safe as regards Klopstock he doesn't care a fig for his principles. His mind is free for pleasure, now--it wasn't before--and so in order to enjoy himself for a month he'd sacrifice _any_ principles. Just like a man, that is! And there's something else. He was so desperately and madly anxious to have me that he told another simply appalling cold-blooded fib. He said he had sat up all through the night thinking over my arguments, without a wink of sleep. I suppose he thought that would touch me. Now the truth is that he slept very well, and woke up with such an appetite that he ate the whole of Charlie's supper except two bananas. I won't mention his references to his mother. But I think I've said enough to show that I didn't come down at four o'clock in the morning precisely in order to throw myself into your son's arms. Can you imagine a woman silly enough to marry a man who on the very day of the wedding would try to deceive her as Cedric has tried to deceive me?

MRS. R. HASLAM. (_Majestic._) Father! We had better go. (_She moves towards house. After reflection, savagely to_ FLORA, _over her shoulder_.) I rejoice that the breach is now definite.

(_Exit into house._)

(CEDRIC _moodily goes up garden out of sight_.)

MR. R. HASLAM. (_Protesting._) Hannah! (_Half to himself, looking at his watch._) An inflammable hour--four o'clock!

FLORA. We seem to be left alone together.

MR. R. HASLAM. (_Cheerfully._) Yes, but I must go.

FLORA. However do you manage to be always so calm and cheerful? I've noticed you in the most difficult situations----

MR. R. HASLAM. You have.... You see I've my own private life to fall back on.

FLORA. (_Interested._) Have you? Where? I never----

MR. R. HASLAM. (_Tapping his forehead._) Here!

FLORA. I see.

MR. R. HASLAM. And my collection--that always keeps me amused.

FLORA. Your collection?

MR. R. HASLAM. My collection of private opinions (_tapping his head_). Here, too!

MRS. R. HASLAM. (_Off._) Father!

MR. R. HASLAM. (_With cheerful acquiescence._) Yes, my dear. (_To_ FLORA.) Au revoir, I hope.

(_Exit into house._)

(_Vague noise of_ CEDRIC _privately cursing behind, out of sight_.)

FLORA. (_Going up a little._) Cedric, when you've done swearing up there, I want to apologise to you.

(_Re-enter_ CEDRIC. _They look at each other._)

CEDRIC. Apologise?

FLORA. My human nature ran away with me. My human nature couldn't resist the temptation to fulfil your prayer. You demanded that your mother should be blowed--and she has been. Unfortunately it meant you being blowed, too. Now let's go.

CEDRIC. Go where?

FLORA. (_Innocently._) To Chelmsford, of course. Isn't there a newspaper train about a quarter past five?

CEDRIC. (_Shaking his head in a maze._) I'm dashed if I know where I am----

FLORA. I'm dashed if you are quite wide awake, my poor boy. Can't you see how amply you've proved that you look on marriage as seriously as any woman could desire--more seriously than any woman ought to desire. Last night you hesitated to sacrifice your aeroplane to me. But this morning you tell the most frightful lies on the chance of getting hold of me--although I gave you every encouragement to be truthful. You take the most frightful risks of being found out. You'll run any danger of trouble and unhappiness in the future if only you can capture me now. You smash crockery. You behave meanly, _miserably_. You forfeit even your own self-respect. Cedric, that is what I like. It's just that that shows how much in earnest you are. Your deeds are far superior to your arguments.... Cedric----

CEDRIC. What?

FLORA. After all, your dear mother's prophecy was quite correct. I _was_ just going to throw myself into your arms--but of course I couldn't do it while she was there, could I? (_Picks up Thermos cup, to screw it on to the flask, holding it at arm's length._) Henceforth, sacred!

(CEDRIC _roughly seizes her and kisses her_.)

(_After freeing herself, as she puts the flask in the bag._) It's a good thing I like them rough.

CEDRIC. What?

FLORA. A man--and his chin.

CEDRIC. (_Snatching at the bag and looking at his watch._) Let's go out by the garden.... Probably find a cab. Motor would make too much noise, and rouse the mater. She'll never get over this.

FLORA. (_Calmly._) Oh yes, she will. We all shall. (_Stops._) But my trunks, and yours?

CEDRIC. I'll wire to Charlie from Liverpool Street to bring them down.... Confound him!

CURTAIN.

The Gresham Press

UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED WOKING AND LONDON

* * * * *

ARNOLD BENNETT

"It is the style which sets the seal of distinction on Mr. Bennett's work, and he has not written for the moment but for posterity."--_Morning Post._

"Mr. Bennett writes novels as Fielding, Smollett, Dickens, Thackeray wrote them--out of the abundance of his imagination, out of an inordinate eagerness to produce human life in all its profusion."--_Daily News._

"The man is immense. In point of sheer observation, revelation of character, fictional interpretation, and, above all, in the objective attitude towards his art, Mr. Bennett stands on this work supreme in English literature. His technique is consummate. His detail and paring work, his dramatic sense, his subtlety, his penetration--these things fill one with wonder."--_English Review._

"Mr. Bennett is an astonishingly clever and judicious artist, he has that sense of life without which no man can be a novelist; he has humour, and humour's twin brother, pathos; he has all this and much else as well; but the dominant characteristic of his mind is its amazing versatility."--_Truth._

"Mr. Bennett has the Trollopian gift of engaging our sympathy with thoroughly ordinary, commonplace, undistinguished, third-rate people, and investing them with qualities which excite curiosity and even fascination. He has qualities which place him in the forefront of living novelists."--_Spectator._

"All of us who treasure our Balzac will be grateful for the literary corner Mr. Bennett is making for himself in English middle-class life."--_Sketch._

"When we read Bennett, apart from the mere acute interest created by the story he has to tell, we are at once humbled and exalted by the revelation he forces upon us--humbled by the mystery and miracle of human existence, exalted by the heavenly gift of vision which lifts us beyond human despairs. Like Edwin, at the close of 'Clayhanger,' we find ourselves 'braced to the exquisite burden of life.' And that is the supreme achievement of literature."--_Glasgow Herald._

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The Regent

_Crown 8vo, 6s._ _Fourth Edition_

"We doubt whether any of Mr. Bennett's books is likely to give more unmitigated amusement than 'The Regent'--a book full of good humour and high spirits."--_Spectator._

"Mr. Bennett is in the lightest of moods--the mood of pure high spirits and burlesque."--_Daily Telegraph._

Clayhanger

_Crown 8vo, 6s._ _Eleventh Edition_

"In 'Clayhanger' Mr. Bennett has suddenly grown to full stature, and at no moment of the story does he lose touch with the warmth and glow of life."--_Star._

"Mr. Bennett has here enlisted all the resources of his fertile intellect, his observation, his keen perception, his essential idealism, and set himself again to the production of a work that will surely be memorable."--_Daily News._

"A masterly story, well ordered, and alive with interest." _Pall Mall Gazette._

"It is all admirably done ... masterly studies of feminine character."--_Nation._

"A great book, handled with an immense breadth and spaciousness, and written in a style of perfect mastery."--_Morning Leader._

Hilda Lessways

_Crown 8vo, 6s._ _Eighth Edition_

"The book is packed with cleverness."--_Standard._

"Mr. Bennett has established himself as a great novelist." _Morning Leader._

"A fine book in its truth, its comprehending sympathy, its courage."--_Daily Chronicle._

"Its realism is most expressive, and its artistry of a rare and excellent kind."--_Pall Mall Gazette._

"That 'Hilda Lessways' is as great as 'Clayhanger' cannot be doubted. It is the epic soul of a woman, and every woman will see in it a mirror of her own experience. It is full of the pity and the beauty of life. It is ennobling, assuaging, restoring, and healing in its vision of existence."--_Star._

The Matador of the Five Towns

_Crown 8vo, 6s._ _Second Edition_

A select number of short stories written by Mr. Bennett during the last few years, now issued for the first time in volume form.

"Here, as elsewhere, Mr. Bennett has written with the hand of the master."--_Dundee Advertiser._

"A wealth of observation, insight, and creative power has gone to the making of these tales."--_Daily Chronicle._

"As full of subtle variety as the superficial greyness of everyday life."--_Glasgow News._

A Man from the North

_Crown 8vo, 6s._ _Third Edition_

This is a new edition of a novel which has been out of print for some years.

"It is admirably fresh and brisk, vibrating with a wild, young ecstasy. It is cleverly written, and strong in appeal to human sympathy."--_Daily Chronicle._

"A book that will come to the jaded novel reader as a splendid surprise."--_Black and White._

The Card

_Crown 8vo, 2s. net_ _Eleventh Edition_

"Mr. Bennett is in his liveliest form. It is true comedy of character. He has created a type for eternal laughter ... he has 'cheered us all up.'"--_Morning Post._

"It is full of delightful touches of humour."--_Evening Standard._

Buried Alive

_Crown 8vo, 2s. net_ _Fifth Edition_

This is a new edition of a novel which has been for some little time out of print.

"A most delightfully humorous story, which keeps the reader in a bubble of laughter the whole way through."--_Daily Chronicle._

"The novel is one of the most amusing we have read for some time. The author is to be congratulated on a notable piece of work."--_Birmingham Post._

Anna of the Five Towns

_Fcap. 8vo, 1s. net_ _Fourth Edition_

A new edition of a characteristic novel by Mr. Bennett, which has been for some little time out of print. It is now issued among Methuen's Shilling Novels.

Teresa of Watling Street

_Fcap. 8vo, 1s. net_

To a plot of the highest ingenuity, Mr. Bennett adds his own minutely humorous and descriptive method. The volume is issued among Methuen's Shilling Novels.

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_Three Plays_

The Honeymoon: a Comedy in Three Acts

_Crown 8vo, 2s. net_ _Third Edition_

"Full of a fine subtle humour, its dialogue is witty and unconventional, and its characters all interesting."--_Aberdeen Free Press._

"Excellently and wittily done. Far and away the neatest and best sustained piece of work Mr. Bennett has written for the theatre."--_Outlook._

Milestones: A Play in Three Acts

(With Edward Knoblauch)

_Crown 8vo, 2s. net_ _Sixth Edition_

This play is perhaps the first attempt to compress into a single evening's entertainment the spectacle of a man's whole existence.

The Great Adventure: A Play of Fancy in Four Acts

_Crown 8vo, 2s. net_ _Third Edition_

This play gives the history of a very great English Painter.

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METHUEN & CO. LTD., 36 ESSEX STREET, LONDON, W.C.

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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors.

Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.

Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.