ACT II

_It is next morning. EUSTASIA, LEONARD’S wife (who should be sitting patiently at home wondering when he will return), is having breakfast with a harmless young man called NICHOLAS. She is what people who talk like that call a “nice little thing,” near enough to thirty-five to begin to wish it were twenty-five. At present she is making a good deal of fuss over this dear boy NICHOLAS. Breakfast is practically over. NICHOLAS, in fact, is wiping his mouth._

* * * * *

EUSTASIA. Finished, darling?

NICHOLAS. Yes, thank you, Eustasia.

EUSTASIA. A little more toast?

NICHOLAS. No, thank you, Eustasia.

EUSTASIA. Just a little tiny teeny-weeny bit, if his Eustasia butters it for him?

NICHOLAS. No, thank you. I’ve really finished.

EUSTASIA. Another cup of coffee?

NICHOLAS (_with a sigh_). No, thank you, Eustasia.

EUSTASIA. Just a little bit of a cup if his Eustasia pours it out for her own Nicholas, and puts the sugar in with her own ickle fingers?

NICHOLAS. No more coffee, thank you.

EUSTASIA. Then he shall sit in a more comfy chair while he smokes his nasty, horrid pipe, which he loves so much better than his Eustasia. (_He gets up without saying anything._) He doesn’t really love it better?

NICHOLAS (_laughing uneasily_). Of course he doesn’t.

EUSTASIA. Kiss her to show that he doesn’t.

NICHOLAS (_doing it gingerly_). You baby!

EUSTASIA. And now give me your pipe. (_He gives it to her reluctantly. She kisses it and gives it back to him._) There! And she doesn’t really think it’s a nasty, horrid pipe, and she’s ever so sorry she said so.... Oh! (_She sees a dish of apples suddenly._)

NICHOLAS. What is it?

EUSTASIA. Nicholas never had an apple!

NICHOLAS. Oh no, thanks, I don’t want one.

EUSTASIA. Oh, but he must have an apple! It’s so good for him. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. You _must_ keep the doctor away, darling, else poor Eustasia will be miserable.

NICHOLAS (_with an effort_). I’ve finished my breakfast.

EUSTASIA. Not even if his Eustasia peels it for him?

NICHOLAS. No, thank you. I assure you that I have had all I want.

EUSTASIA. Sure?

NICHOLAS. Quite sure, thank you. Where are you going to sit?

EUSTASIA (_indicating the sofa_). Nicholas sit there and Eustasia sit next to him.

NICHOLAS (_without much enthusiasm_). Right. (_They sit down._)

EUSTASIA. Shall Eustasia fill his pipe for him? (_She takes it._)

NICHOLAS (_taking it back_). No, thank you. It is filled. (_They are silent for a little, and at last he speaks uncomfortably_) Er—Eustasia.

EUSTASIA. Yes, darling.

NICHOLAS. We’ve been here a week.

EUSTASIA. Yes, darling. A wonderful, wonderful week. And now to-day we leave this dear house where we have been so happy together, and go out into the world together——

NICHOLAS (_who has not been listening to her_). A week. Except for the first day, we have had all our meals alone together.

EUSTASIA (_sentimentally_). Alone, Nicholas.

NICHOLAS. Four meals a day—that’s twenty-four meals.

EUSTASIA. Twenty-four!

NICHOLAS. And at every one of those meals you have asked me at least four times to have something more, when I had already said that I didn’t want anything more; or, in other words, you have forced me to say “No, thank you, Eustasia,” ninety-six times when there was absolutely no need for it.

EUSTASIA (_hurt_). Nicholas!

NICHOLAS (_inexorably_). We are both young. I am twenty-six, you are——

EUSTASIA (_hopefully_). Twenty-five.

NICHOLAS (_looking at her quickly and then away again_). You are twenty-five. If all goes well, we may look to have fifty years more together. Say two thousand five hundred weeks. Multiply that by a hundred, and we see that in the course of our joint lives you will, at the present rate, force me to say “No, thank you, Eustasia,” two hundred and fifty thousand times more than is necessary. (_He relights his pipe._)

EUSTASIA (_pathetically_). Nicholas! (_She applies her handkerchief._)

NICHOLAS. I wondered if we couldn’t come to some arrangement about it. That’s all.

EUSTASIA. You’re cruel! Cruel! (_She sobs piteously._)

NICHOLAS (_doggedly_). I just wondered if we couldn’t come to some arrangement.

EUSTASIA (_completely overcome_). Oh! Oh! Nicholas! My darling!

(_NICHOLAS, his hands clenched, looks grimly in front of him. He winces now and then at her sobs. He tries desperately hard not to give way, but in the end they are too much for him._)

NICHOLAS (_putting his arms round her_). Darling! Don’t! (_She goes on sobbing._) There! There! I’m sorry. Nicholas is sorry. I oughtn’t to have said it. Forgive me, darling.

EUSTASIA (_between sobs_). It’s only because I love you so much, and w-want you to be well. And you m-must eat.

NICHOLAS. Yes, yes, Eustasia, I know. It is dear of you.

EUSTASIA. Ask any d-doctor. He would say you m-must eat.

NICHOLAS. Yes, darling.

EUSTASIA. You m-must eat.

NICHOLAS (_resignedly_). Yes, darling.

EUSTASIA (_sitting up and wiping her eyes_). What’s a wife for, if it isn’t to look after her husband when he’s ill, and to see that he eats?

NICHOLAS. All right, dear, we won’t say anything more about it.

EUSTASIA. And when you had that horrid cold and were so ill, the first day after we came here, I did look after you, didn’t I, Nicholas, and take care of you and make you well again?

NICHOLAS. You did, dear. Don’t think I am not grateful. You were very kind. (_Wincing at the recollection_) Too kind.

EUSTASIA. Not too kind, darling. I love looking after you, and doing things for you, and taking care of you, and cosseting you. (_Thoughtfully to herself_) Leonard was _never_ ill.

NICHOLAS. Leonard?

EUSTASIA. My husband.

NICHOLAS. Oh!... I’d never thought of him as Leonard. I prefer not to think about him. I’ve never seen him, and I don’t want to talk about him.

EUSTASIA. No, darling. _I_ don’t want to either.

NICHOLAS. We’ve taken the plunge and—(_bravely_) and we’re not going back on it.

EUSTASIA (_surprised_). Darling!

NICHOLAS. As a man of honour I—— Besides, you can’t go back now—I mean I took you away, and—— Well, here we are. (_With determination_) Here we are.

EUSTASIA. Darling, you aren’t regretting?

NICHOLAS (_hastily_). No, no! (_She takes out her handkerchief ominously._) No, no, no! (_She begins to sob._) _No! No!_ (_He is almost shouting._) Eustasia, listen! I love you! I’m _not_ regretting! I’ve _never_ been so happy! (_She is sobbing tumultuously._) So happy, Eustasia! I have never, never been so happy! _Can’t_ you hear?

EUSTASIA (_throwing herself into his arms_). Darling!

NICHOLAS. There, there!

EUSTASIA (_drying her eyes_). Oh, Nicholas, you frightened me so! Just for a moment I was afraid you were regretting.

NICHOLAS. No, no!

EUSTASIA. How right Mr. Latimer was!

NICHOLAS (_with conviction_). He was indeed.

EUSTASIA. How little we really knew of each other when you asked me to come away with you!

NICHOLAS. How little!

EUSTASIA. But this week has shown us to each other as we really are.

NICHOLAS. It has.

EUSTASIA. And now I feel absolutely safe. We are ready to face the world together, Nicholas. (_She sighs and leans back happily in his arms._)

NICHOLAS. Ready to face the world together.

(_He has his pipe in his right hand, which is round her waist. Her eyes are closed, her left hand, encircling his neck, holds his left hand. He tries to bend his head down so as to get hold of his pipe with his teeth. Several times he tries and just misses it. Each time he pulls her a little closer to him, and she sighs happily. At last he gets hold of it. He leans back with a gasp of relief._)

EUSTASIA (_still with her eyes closed_). What is it, darling?

NICHOLAS. Nothing, Eustasia, nothing. Just happiness.

(_But they are not to be alone with it for long, for MR. LATIMER comes in._)

LATIMER. Good morning, my friends, good morning.

(_They move apart and NICHOLAS jumps up._)

NICHOLAS. Oh, good morning.

EUSTASIA. Good morning.

LATIMER. So you are leaving me this morning and going on your way?

NICHOLAS (_without enthusiasm_). Yes.

EUSTASIA. But we shall never forget this week, dear Mr. Latimer.

LATIMER. You have forgiven me for asking you to wait a little so as to make sure?

EUSTASIA. Oh, but you were so right! I was just saying so to Nicholas. Wasn’t I, Nicholas?

NICHOLAS. Yes. About a minute ago. About two minutes ago.

LATIMER. And so now you are sure of yourselves?

EUSTASIA. Oh, so sure, so very sure. Aren’t we, Nicholas?

NICHOLAS. Absolutely sure.

LATIMER. That’s right. (_Looking at his watch_) Well, I don’t want to hurry you, but if you have any little things to do, the car will be here in half an hour, and——

EUSTASIA. Half an hour? Oh, I must fly. (_She begins._)

NICHOLAS (_not moving_). Yes, we must fly.

LATIMER (_going to the door with EUSTASIA_). By the way, you will be interested to hear that I had two other visitors last night.

EUSTASIA (_stopping excitedly_). Mr. Latimer! You don’t mean another—couple?

LATIMER. Yes, another romantic couple.

EUSTASIA. Oh, if I could but see them before we go! Just for a moment! Just to reconcile them to this week of probation! To tell them what a wonderful week it can be!

LATIMER. You shall. I promise you that you shall.

EUSTASIA. Oh, thank you, dear Mr. Latimer!

(_He goes to the door with her. As he comes back, NICHOLAS is coming slowly towards him._)

NICHOLAS. I say?

LATIMER. Yes?

NICHOLAS (_thoughtfully_). I say, what would _you_—I mean—supposing—— Because you see—I mean, it isn’t as if—— Of course, _now_—— (_He looks at his watch and finishes up sadly_) Half an hour. Well, I suppose I must be getting ready. (_He goes towards the door._)

LATIMER (_as he gets there_). Er—Nicholas.

NICHOLAS. Yes?

LATIMER. Just a moment.

NICHOLAS (_coming back to him_). Yes?

(_LATIMER takes him by the arm, and looks round the room to see that they are alone._)

LATIMER (_in a loud whisper_). Cheer up!

NICHOLAS (_excitedly_). What?

(_LATIMER has let go of his arm and moved away, humming casually to himself. The light dies out of NICHOLAS’ eyes, and he shrugs his shoulders despairingly._)

NICHOLAS (_without any hope_). Well, I’ll go and get ready.

[_He goes out._

(_DOMINIC comes in and begins to rearrange the breakfast-table._)

LATIMER. Ah, good morning, Dominic.

DOMINIC. Good morning, sir. A nicish morning it seems to be, sir.

LATIMER. A very nicish morning. I have great hopes of the world to-day.

DOMINIC. I am very glad to hear it, sir.

LATIMER. We must all do what we can, Dominic.

DOMINIC. That’s the only way, isn’t it, sir?

LATIMER. Great hopes, great hopes.

DOMINIC (_handing him “The Times”_). The paper, sir.

LATIMER. Thank you. (_He looks at the front page_). Any one married this morning? Dear me, quite a lot. One, two, three, four ... ten. Ten! Twenty happy people, Dominic!

DOMINIC. Let us hope so, sir.

LATIMER. Let us hope so.... By the way, how was his lordship this morning?

DOMINIC. A little depressed, sir.

LATIMER. Ah!

DOMINIC. There seems to have been some misunderstanding about his luggage. A little carelessness on the part of somebody, I imagine, sir.

LATIMER. Dear me! Didn’t it come with him?

DOMINIC. I’m afraid not, sir.

LATIMER. Tut, tut, how careless of somebody. Can’t we lend him anything?

DOMINIC. Joseph offered to lend him a comb, sir—his own comb—a birthday present last year, Joseph tells me. His lordship decided not to avail himself of the offer.

LATIMER. Very generous of Joseph, seeing that it was a birthday present.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir. Unfortunately Joseph had come down to the last blade of his safety razor this morning. His lordship is rather upset about the whole business, sir.

LATIMER. Well, well, I daresay a little breakfast will do him good.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir. Are you ready for breakfast now, sir?

(_ANNE comes in. All this is rather fun. She is not so sure of LEONARD now, but LEONARD doesn’t matter. Dover is a long way off. Meanwhile this is fun. The jolly house, the excitement of not knowing what will happen next; and MR. LATIMER—to be put in his place._)

LATIMER (_getting up and going to her_). Good morning, Anne. May I hope that you slept well?

ANNE. Very well, thank you.

LATIMER. I am so glad.... All right, Dominic.

DOMINIC. Thank you, sir.

[_He goes out._

LATIMER. You are ready for breakfast?

ANNE. Quite ready. But what about Leonard?

LATIMER. Leonard?

ANNE. I made sure that I was to have a practice breakfast with Leonard this morning. I have been thinking of a few things to say up in my room.

LATIMER (_smiling_). Say them to me instead.

ANNE. They are very wifely. (_She sits down._)

LATIMER. But think what good practice.

ANNE. Very well. (_At the cups_) Tea or coffee, darling?

LATIMER. Oh no, that will never do. You know by now that I always have coffee—half milk and three lumps of sugar.

ANNE. Of course, how silly of me. (_She pours out the coffee._)

LATIMER (_taking the covers off the dishes_). Omelette—fish—kidney and bacon?

ANNE. Now _you’re_ forgetting.

LATIMER (_putting back the covers_). No, I’m remembering. Toast and marmalade—isn’t that right?

ANNE. Quite right, dear.

LATIMER (_to himself_). I knew she would like marmalade. No wonder that Leonard ran away with her. (_He puts the toast and marmalade close to her._)

ANNE. Your coffee, darling.

LATIMER. Thank you, my love.... “My love” is very connubial, I think.

ANNE. Delightfully so. Do go on.

LATIMER. Er—I am sorry to see in the paper this morning—which I glanced at, my precious, before you came down—— How do you like “My precious”?

ANNE. Wonderfully life-like. Are you sure you haven’t been married before?

LATIMER. Only once. Eustasia. You had not forgotten, Eustasia?

ANNE. I am afraid I had. In fact, I had forgotten for the moment that you were being Leonard.

LATIMER (_bowing_). Thank you. I could wish no better compliment.

ANNE (_laughing in spite of herself_). Oh, you’re too absurd.

LATIMER (_in LEONARD’S manner_). Of course I don’t wish to say anything against Eustasia——

ANNE. My dear Leonard, I really think we might leave your first wife out of it.

LATIMER. Yes, you want to get that off pat. You’ll have to say that a good deal, I expect. Well, to resume. I am sorry to see in the paper this morning that Beelzebub, upon whom I laid my shirt for the 2.30 race at Newmarket yesterday—and incidentally your shirt too, darling—came in last, some five minutes after the others had finished the course.... Tut, tut, how annoying!

ANNE. Oh, my poor darling!

LATIMER. The word “poor” is well chosen. We are ruined. I shall have to work.

ANNE. You know what I _want_ you to do, Leonard?

LATIMER. No, I have forgotten.

ANNE (_seriously_). I should like to see you in the House of Lords, taking your rightful place as a leader of men, making great speeches.

LATIMER. My dear Anne! I may be a peer, but I am not a dashed politician.

ANNE (_wistfully_). I wish you were, Leonard.

LATIMER. I will be anything you like, Anne. (_He leans towards her, half-serious, half-mocking._)

ANNE (_with a little laugh_). How absurd you are! Some more coffee?

LATIMER (_passing his cup_). To which I answer, “A little more milk.” Do you realise that this goes on for fifty years?

ANNE. Well, and why not?

LATIMER. Fifty years. A solemn thought. But do not let it mar our pleasure in the meal that we are having together now. Let us continue to talk gaily together. Tell me of any interesting dream you may have had last night—any little adventure that befell you in the bath—any bright thought that occurred to you as you were dressing.

ANNE (_thoughtfully_). I had a very odd dream last night.

LATIMER. I am longing to hear it, my love.

ANNE. I dreamt that you and I were running away together, Leonard, and that we lost our way and came to what we thought was an hotel. But it was not an hotel. It was a very mysterious house, kept by a very mysterious man called Mr. Latimer.

LATIMER. How very odd. Latimer? Latimer? No, I don’t seem to have heard of the fellow.

ANNE. He told us that we were his prisoners. That we must stay in his house a week before we went on our way again. That all the doors were locked, and there were high walls round the garden, that the gates from the garden were locked, so that we could not escape, and that we must wait a week together in his house to see if we were really suited to each other.

LATIMER. My dear, what an extraordinary dream!

ANNE. It _was_ only a dream, wasn’t it?

LATIMER. Of course! What is there mysterious about this house? What is there mysterious about this—er—Mr. Latimer? And as for any one being kept prisoner—here—in this respectable England—why!

ANNE. It is absurd, isn’t it?

LATIMER. Quite ridiculous.

ANNE (_getting up—now she will show him_). I thought it was. (_She goes to the front door and turns the handle. To her surprise the door opens. But MR. LATIMER mustn’t know that she is surprised._) You see, I thought it was! (_She steps out into the garden._) You see, the gates are open too! (_She comes back._) What an absurd dream to have had! (_She sits down again._)

LATIMER. There’s no accounting for dreams. I had an absurd one too last night.

ANNE. What was it?

LATIMER. A lonely house. Father and daughter living together. Father old, selfish, absorbed in his work. Daughter left to herself; her only companion, books; knowing nothing of the world. A man comes into her life—the first. He makes much of her. It is a new experience for the daughter. She is grateful to him, so grateful, so very proud that she means anything to him. He tells her when it is too late that he is married; talks of an impossible wife; tells her that she is his real mate. Let her come with him and see something of the world which she has never known. She comes.... Dear me, what silly things one dreams!

ANNE. Absurd things.... (_So he knows! He knows all about it! But she will not be treated as a child. She will carry it off yet._) When can we have the car? (_Now she is carrying it off._)

LATIMER. The car?

ANNE. Leonard’s car.

LATIMER. You wish to continue the adventure?

ANNE. Why not?

LATIMER. Dear, dear! What a pity! (_Looking at his watch._) In twenty-five minutes?

ANNE. That will do nicely, thank you.

LATIMER. We must let Leonard have a little breakfast first, if he is to cross the Channel to-day. (_He gets up._) In twenty-five minutes then.

ANNE (_half holding out her hand_). I shall see you again?

LATIMER (_bending over it_). If only to wish you Godspeed.

(_She looks at him for a moment, and then turns and goes out. He picks up his paper and settles with it in an arm-chair, his back to the breakfast-table. LEONARD comes in. He is in a dirty, rather disreputable, once white, bath-gown. His hair is unbrushed, his cheeks—the cheeks of a dark man—unshaved and blue. He has a horrible pair of bedroom slippers on his feet, above which, not only his socks, but almost a hint of pantaloons, may be seen on the way to the dressing-gown. He comes in nervously, and is greatly relieved to find that the breakfast-table is empty. He does not notice MR. LATIMER. On his way to the table he stops at a mirror on the wall, and standing in front of it, tries to persuade himself that his chin is not so bad after all. Then he pours himself out some coffee, helps himself to a kipper and falls to ravenously._)

LATIMER. Ah, good morning, Leonard.

LEONARD (_starting violently and turning round_). Good Lord! I didn’t know you were there.

LATIMER. You were so hungry.... I trust you slept well.

LEONARD. Slept well! Of all the damned draughty rooms—— Yes, and what about my luggage?

LATIMER (_surprised_). Your luggage?

LEONARD. Yes, never put on the car, your fellow, what’s ’is name—Joseph says.

LATIMER. Dear me, we must enquire into this. Lost your luggage? Dear me, that’s a very unfortunate start for a honeymoon. That means bad luck, Leonard. (_DOMINIC comes in._) Dominic, what’s this about his lordship’s luggage?

DOMINIC. Joseph tells me there must have been some misunderstanding about it, sir. A little carelessness on the part of somebody, I imagine, sir.

LATIMER. Dear me! Didn’t it come with him?

DOMINIC. I’m afraid not, sir.

LATIMER. Tut, tut, how careless of somebody! Thank you, Dominic.

DOMINIC. Thank you, sir.

[_He goes out._

LATIMER. Lost your luggage. How excessively annoying! (_Anxiously_) My dear Leonard, what is it?

LEONARD (_whose face has been shaping for it for some seconds_) A-tish-oo!

LATIMER. At any rate I can find you a handkerchief. (_He does so. LEONARD takes it just in time, and sneezes violently again._)

LEONARD. Thank you.

LATIMER. Not at all. That’s a very nasty cold you’ve got. How wise of you to have kept on a dressing-gown.

LEONARD. The only thing I had to put on.

LATIMER. But surely you were travelling in a suit yesterday? I seem to remember a brown suit.

LEONARD. That fool of a man of yours——

LATIMER (_distressed_). You don’t mean to tell me——(_DOMINIC comes in._) Dominic, what’s this about his lordship’s brown suit?

DOMINIC. Owing to a regrettable misunderstanding, sir, his lordship’s luggage——

LATIMER. Yes, but I’m not talking about his twenty-five other suits, I mean the nice brown suit that he was wearing yesterday. It must be somewhere. I remember noticing it. I remember—— (_He holds up his hand_) Just a moment, Dominic——

LEONARD. A-tish-oo!

LATIMER. I remember saying to myself, “What a nice brown suit Leonard is wearing.” Well, where is it, Dominic?

DOMINIC. Yes, sir. I seem to remember the suit to which you are referring. I regret to say that Joseph had an unfortunate accident with it.

LEONARD (_growling_). Damned carelessness.

DOMINIC. Joseph was bringing back the clothes after brushing them, sir, and happened to have them in his arms while bending over the bath in order to test the temperature of the water for his lordship. A little surprised by the unexpected heat of the water, Joseph relinquished the clothes for a moment, and precipitated them into the bath.

LATIMER. Dear me, how extremely careless of Joseph!

DOMINIC. Yes, sir, I have already reprimanded him.

LEONARD. The fellow ought to be shot.

LATIMER. You’re quite right, Leonard. Dominic, shoot Joseph this morning.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir.

LATIMER. And see that his lordship’s suit is dried as soon as possible.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir. It is being dried now, sir.

LATIMER. But it must be dried thoroughly, Dominic. His lordship has a nasty cold, and——

LEONARD. A-tish-oo!

LATIMER. A very nasty one. I’m afraid you are subject to colds, Leonard?

LEONARD. The first one I’ve ever had in my life.

LATIMER. Do you hear that, Dominic? The first one he’s ever had in his life.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir. If you remember, sir, Mr. Nicholas, and one or two other gentlemen who have slept there, caught a very nasty cold. Almost looks as if there must be something the matter with the room.

LEONARD. Damned draughtiest room——

LATIMER. Dear me! You should have told me of this before. We must have the room seen to at once. And be sure that his lordship has a different room to-night.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir; thank you, sir.

[_He goes out._

LATIMER (_sympathetically_). My dear fellow, I am distressed beyond words. But you know the saying, “Feed a cold, starve a fever.” You must eat, you must eat. (_He pushes all the dishes round Leonard._) We must be firm with this cold. We must suffocate it. (_Pressing more dishes upon him._) You were quite right not to shave. The protection offered by the beard, though small, is salutary. But I was forgetting—perhaps your razor is lost too?

LEONARD. Damned careless fellows!

LATIMER. I must lend you mine.

LEONARD (_feeling his chin_). I say, I wish you would.

LATIMER. I will get it at once. Meanwhile, eat. No half measures with this cold of yours. My poor fellow!

(_He hurries out. Just as LEONARD is getting busy with his breakfast again, ANNE comes in._)

ANNE. Leonard, my dear! (_She observes him more thoroughly_) My _dear_ Leonard!

LEONARD (_his mouth full_). G’morning, Anne.

ANNE (_coldly_). Good morning.

LEONARD (_getting up, napkin in hand_). How are you this morning? (_He comes towards her, wiping his mouth._)

ANNE. No, please go on with your breakfast. (_In alarm_) What is it?

(_His face assumes an agonized expression. He sneezes. ANNE shudders._)

LEONARD. Got a nasty cold. Can’t understand it. First I’ve ever had in my life.

ANNE. Do you sneeze like that much?

LEONARD. Off and on.

ANNE. Oh!... Hadn’t you better get on with your breakfast?

LEONARD. Well, I will if you don’t mind. Good thing for a cold, isn’t it? Eat a lot.

ANNE. I really know very little about colds.... Do get on with your breakfast.

LEONARD (_going back_). Well, I will, if you don’t mind. You had yours?

ANNE. Yes.

LEONARD. That’s right. (_Resuming it_) Did you have one of these kippers?

ANNE. No.

LEONARD. Ah! A pity. I will say that for Latimer’s cook. She knows how to do a kipper. Much more difficult than people think.

ANNE. I really know very little about kippers.

LEONARD. I have often wondered why somebody doesn’t invent one without bones. (_He takes a mouthful._) Seeing what science can do nowadays—— (_He stops. ANNE’S eye is on him. He says nothing, but waves his hand for her to look the other way._)

ANNE. What is it? (_He frowns fiercely and continues to wave. She turns away coldly._) I beg your pardon. (_He removes a mouthful of bones._)

LEONARD (_cheerfully_). Right oh, darling.... After all, what do they _want_ all these bones for? Other fish manage without them. (_He continues his kipper._)

ANNE. Leonard, when you can spare me a moment I should like to speak to you.

LEONARD (_eating_). My darling, all my time is yours.

ANNE. I should like your undivided attention if I can have it.

LEONARD. Fire away, darling, I’m listening.

ANNE (_going up to him_). Have you finished your—kipper? (_She takes the plate away_) What are you going to have next?

LEONARD. Well—what do you recommend?

ANNE (_taking off a cover_). Omelette? I don’t think it has any bones.

LEONARD. What’s in that other dish? (_She takes off the cover._) Kidneys? What are the kidneys like?

ANNE. Well, you can see what they _look_ like.

LEONARD. Did you try one?

ANNE (_impatiently_). They’re delightful, I tried several. (_She helps him_) There! Got the toast? Butter? Salt? What is it?

LEONARD. Pepper.

ANNE. Pepper—there. Now have you got everything?

LEONARD. Yes, thank you, my dear. (_He picks up his knife and fork._)

ANNE (_putting them down again_). Then before you actually begin, I have something I want to say to you.

LEONARD. You’re very mysterious. What is it?

ANNE. There is nothing mysterious about it at all. It’s perfectly plain and obvious. Only I do want you to grasp it.

LEONARD. Well? (_He blows his nose. She waits for him to finish._) Well? (_He is still flourishing his handkerchief. She waits patiently. He puts it back in his pocket._) Well?

ANNE. The car will be here in a quarter of an hour.

LEONARD. The car?

ANNE. The automobile.

LEONARD. But whose?

ANNE. Ours. More accurately, yours.

LEONARD. But what for?

ANNE (_patiently_). We are running away together, dear. You and I. It had slipped your memory perhaps, but I assure you it is a fact. The car will take us to Dover, and the boat will take us to Calais, and the train will take us to the South of France. You and I, dear. When you’ve finished your breakfast.

LEONARD. But what about Latimer?

ANNE. Just you and I, dear. Two of us only. The usual number. We shall not take Mr. Latimer.

LEONARD. My dear Anne, you seem quite to have forgotten that this confounded fellow Latimer has got us prisoners here until he chooses to let us go. (_With dignity_) _I_ have not forgotten. I eat his kidneys now, but he shall hear from me afterwards. Damned interference!

ANNE. Have you been dreaming, Leonard? _Before_ all these kippers and kidneys and things?

LEONARD. Dreaming?

ANNE. The car will be here in a quarter of an hour. Why not? It is _your_ car. This is England; this is the twentieth century. We missed the boat and spent the night here. We go on our way this morning. Why not?

LEONARD. Well, you know, I said last night it was perfectly ridiculous for Latimer to talk that way. I mean, what has it got to do with _him_? Just a bit of leg-pulling—that’s what I felt all the time. Stupid joke. (_Picking up his knife and fork_) Bad taste too.

ANNE. You did hear what I said, didn’t you? The car will be here in a quarter of an hour. I don’t know how long it takes you to—(_she glances him over_) to shave, and—and dress properly, and—and brush your hair, but I fancy you ought to be thinking about it quite seriously. (_Kindly_) You can have some more kidneys another time.

LEONARD. B-but I can’t possibly go like this.

ANNE. No, that’s what I say.

LEONARD. I mean I haven’t got any luggage for one thing—and, with a cold like this, I’m not at all sure——

ANNE. You’ve lost your luggage?

LEONARD. Apparently it was left behind by——

ANNE (_with anger_). You let yourself be tricked and humiliated by this Mr. Latimer, you let _me_ be humiliated, and then when I say that, whatever happens, I won’t be humiliated, you—you lose your luggage!

LEONARD. _I_ didn’t lose it. It just happens to _be_ lost.

ANNE. And you catch a cold!

LEONARD. _I_ didn’t catch it. It caught _me_.

ANNE. The—the humiliation of it!... And what do you propose to do now?

LEONARD. As soon as my luggage turns up, and I am well enough to travel——

ANNE. Meanwhile you accept this man’s hospitality——

LEONARD. Under protest. (_Helping himself from the dish._) I shall keep a careful account of everything that we have here——

ANNE. Well, that’s your third kidney; you’d better make a note of it.

LEONARD (_with dignity_). As it happens I was helping myself to a trifle more bacon.... As I say, I shall keep a careful account, and send him a cheque for our board and lodging as soon as we have left his roof.

ANNE. Oh!... I had some coffee and one slice of toast and a little marmalade. About a spoonful. And a cup of tea and two thin slices of bread and butter upstairs. Oh, and I’ve had two baths. They’re extra, aren’t they? A hot one last night and a cold one this morning. I think that’s all. Except supper last night, and you wouldn’t let me finish that, so I expect there’ll be a reduction.... You want a note-book with one of those little pencils in it.

LEONARD (_reproachfully_). I say, Anne, look here——

ANNE. Do go on with your breakfast.

LEONARD. You’re being awfully unfair. How can we possibly go now? Why, I haven’t even got a pair of trousers to put on.

ANNE. You’re not going to say you’ve lost those too!

LEONARD (_sulkily_). It’s not my fault. That fellow—What’s ’is name——

ANNE (_wonderingly_). What made you ever _think_ that you could take anybody to the South of France? Without any practice at all?... Now, if you had been taking an aunt to Hammersmith—well, you might have lost a bus or two ... and your hat might have blown off ... and you would probably have found yourselves at Hampstead the first two or three times ... and your aunt would have stood up the whole way ... but still you might have got there eventually. I mean, it would be worth trying—if your aunt was very anxious to get to Hammersmith. But the South of France! My dear Leonard! It’s so audacious of you.

LEONARD (_annoyed_). Now, look here, Anne——

(_MR. LATIMER comes in cheerily with shaving-pot, brush, safety-razor, and towel._)

LATIMER. Now then, Leonard, we’ll soon have you all right. (_He puts the things down._) Ah, Anne! You don’t mind waiting while Leonard has a shave? He wanted to grow a special beard for the Continent, but I persuaded him not to. The French accent will be quite enough. (_Picking up the razor_) Do you mind Wednesday’s blade? I used Tuesday’s myself this morning.

ANNE (_all sweetness in a moment_). Oh, Mr. Latimer, I find that we shall not want the car after all.

LATIMER. No?

ANNE. No. Poor Leonard is hardly well enough to travel. I hope that by to-morrow, perhaps—— But I am afraid that we must trespass on your hospitality until then. I am so sorry.

LATIMER. But I am charmed to have you. Let me tell your maid to unpack.

ANNE. Don’t trouble, thanks. I’ve got to take my hat off. (_Very lovingly for LATIMER’S benefit_) I shan’t be a moment, Leonard darling.

(_She goes out, her chin in the air. She is still carrying it off._)

LATIMER. Now then, Leonard darling, to work.

LEONARD (_picking up the things_). Thanks.

LATIMER. But where are you going?

LEONARD. Upstairs, of course.

LATIMER. Is that wise? With a cold like yours?

LEONARD. Damn it, I can’t shave down here.

LATIMER. Oh, come, we mustn’t stand on ceremony when your life is at stake. You were complaining only five minutes ago of the draught in your room. Now, here we have a nice even temperature——

LEONARD. Well, there’s something in that.

LATIMER. There’s everything in it. Of course you’ve never had a cold before, so you don’t know, but any doctor will tell you how important it is to stay in one room—with a nice even temperature. You mustn’t dream of going upstairs.

LEONARD (_surrendering_). Well——

LATIMER. That’s right. Got everything you want? There are plenty of mirrors. Which period do you prefer? Queen Anne?

LEONARD. It’s all right, thanks.

LATIMER. Good. Then I’ll leave you to it.

(_He goes out. Standing in front of a glass on the wall, LEONARD applies the soap. His cheeks are just getting beautifully creamy when NICHOLAS enters._)

NICHOLAS. Hallo!

LEONARD (_looking round_). Hallo!

NICHOLAS. Shaving?

LEONARD (_exasperated_). Well, what the devil did you think I was doing?

NICHOLAS. Shaving. (_He sits down. LEONARD gets on with the good work._)

LEONARD. A-tish-oo!

NICHOLAS. Got a cold?

LEONARD. Obviously.

NICHOLAS (_sympathetically_). Horrid, sneezing when you’re all covered with soap.

LEONARD. Look here, I didn’t ask for your company, and I don’t want your comments.

NICHOLAS. Well, if it comes to that, I was here first, and I didn’t ask you to shave in the hall.

LEONARD (_with dignity_). There are reasons why it is necessary for me to shave in the hall.

NICHOLAS. Don’t bother to tell me. I know ’em.

LEONARD. What do you mean?

NICHOLAS. You’re the couple that arrived last night.

LEONARD (_looking at him, thoughtfully_). And you’re the couple that is leaving this morning.

NICHOLAS. Exactly.

LEONARD. Yes, but I don’t see——

NICHOLAS. You haven’t tumbled to it yet?

LEONARD. Tumbled to what?

NICHOLAS. The fact that a week ago there were reasons why it was necessary for _me_ to shave in the hall.

LEONARD. You!... You don’t mean——

NICHOLAS. Yes, I do.

LEONARD. You lost your luggage?

NICHOLAS. Yes.

LEONARD. You woke up with a cold?

NICHOLAS. Yes.... Horrid, sneezing when you’re all covered with soap.

LEONARD (_excitedly_). I say, that fellow—what’s ’is name—didn’t drop _your_ clothes in the bath?

NICHOLAS. Oh, rather.... Damned smart chap, Latimer.

LEONARD. Damned scoundrel.

NICHOLAS. Oh no. He’s quite right. One learns a lot down here.

LEONARD. I shall leave his house at once ... as soon as I have shaved.

NICHOLAS. You still want to? (_LEONARD looks at him in surprise_) Oh, well, you’ve hardly been here long enough, I suppose.

LEONARD. What do you mean? Don’t _you_ want to any more?

NICHOLAS. Latimer’s quite right, you know. One learns a lot down here.

LEONARD (_shaving_). What about the lady?

NICHOLAS. That’s the devil of it.

LEONARD. My dear fellow, as a man of honour, you’re bound to go on.

NICHOLAS. As a man of honour, ought I ever to have started?

LEONARD (_little knowing_). Naturally I can’t give an opinion on that.

NICHOLAS. No.... You want to be careful with that glass. The light isn’t too good. I should go over it all again.

LEONARD (_stiffly_). Thank you. I am accustomed to shaving myself.

NICHOLAS. I was just offering a little expert advice. You needn’t take it.

LEONARD (_surveying himself doubtfully_). H’m, perhaps you’re right. (_He lathers himself again. In the middle of it he stops and says_) Curious creatures, women.

NICHOLAS. Amazing.

LEONARD. It’s a life’s work in itself trying to understand ’em. And then you’re no further.

NICHOLAS. A week told _me_ all I wanted to know.

LEONARD. They’re so unexpected.

NICHOLAS. So unreasonable.

LEONARD. What was it the poet said about them?

NICHOLAS. What didn’t he say?

LEONARD. No, _you_ know the one I mean. How does it begin?... “O woman, in our hours of ease——”

NICHOLAS. “Uncertain, coy and hard to please.”

LEONARD. That’s it. Well, I grant you _that_——

NICHOLAS. Grant it me! I should think you do! They throw it at you with both hands.

LEONARD. But in the next two lines he misses the point altogether. When—what is it?—“When pain and anguish wring the brow”——

NICHOLAS (_with feeling_). “A ministering angel thou.”

LEONARD. Yes, and it’s a lie. It’s simply a lie.

NICHOLAS. My dear fellow, it’s the truest thing anybody ever said. Only—only one gets too much of it.

LEONARD. True? Nonsense!

NICHOLAS. Evidently you don’t know anything about women.

LEONARD (_indignantly_). _I!_ Not know anything about women!

NICHOLAS. Well, you said yourself just now that you didn’t.

LEONARD. I never said—— What I said——

NICHOLAS. If you did know anything about ’em, you’d know that there’s nothing they like more than doing the ministering angel business.

LEONARD. Ministering angel!

NICHOLAS. Won’t you have a little more of this, and won’t you have a little more of that, and how is the poor cold to-day, and——

LEONARD. You really think that women talk like that?

NICHOLAS. How else do you think they talk?

LEONARD. My dear fellow!... Why, I mean, just take my own case as an example. Here am I, with a very nasty cold, the first I’ve ever had in my life. I sit down for a bit of breakfast—not wanting it particularly, but feeling that, for the sake of my health, I ought to try and eat something. And what happens?

(_LATIMER has come in during this speech. He stops and listens to it._)

LATIMER (_trying to guess the answer_). You eat too much.

LEONARD (_turning round angrily_). Ah, so it’s you! You have come just in time, Mr. Latimer. I propose to leave your house at once.

LATIMER (_surprised_). Not like that? Not with a little bit of soap behind the ear? (_LEONARD hastily wipes it._) The other ear. (_LEONARD wipes that one_) That’s right.

LEONARD. At once, sir.

NICHOLAS. You’d better come with us. We’re just going.

LEONARD. Thank you.

LATIMER. Four of you. A nice little party.

_ANNE comes in._

LEONARD. Anne, my dear, we are leaving the house at once. Are you ready?

ANNE. But——

EUSTASIA (_from outside_). Nich-o-las!

(_LEONARD looks up in astonishment._)

NICHOLAS (_gloomily_). Hallo!

EUSTASIA. Where are you?

NICHOLAS. Here!

_EUSTASIA comes in._

EUSTASIA. Are you ready, darling? (_She stops on seeing them all, and looks from one to the other. She sees her husband_) Leonard!

NICHOLAS (_understanding_). Leonard!

LEONARD. Eustasia!

ANNE. Eustasia!

(_They stare at each other—open-mouthed—all but MR. LATIMER. MR. LATIMER has picked up “The Times,” and seems to have forgotten that they are there...._)

ANNE (_after hours and hours_). Oh, isn’t anybody going to say anything? Mr. Latimer, while Leonard is thinking of something, you might introduce me to his wife.

LATIMER (_recalled suddenly from the leading article_). I beg your pardon! Eustasia, this is Anne.

ANNE. How do you do? (_Not that she minds._)

EUSTASIA. How do you do? (_Nor she._)

LATIMER. Leonard, this is Nicholas.

NICHOLAS (_nodding_). We’ve met. Quite old friends.

LEONARD (_indignantly_). I repudiate the friendship. We met under false pretences. I—I—Well, upon my word, I don’t know _what_ to say.

NICHOLAS. Then don’t say it, old boy. Here we all are, and we’ve got to make the best of it.

LEONARD. I—I—_a-tish-oo!_

EUSTASIA (_alarmed_). Leonard, you have a cold?

NICHOLAS. A very nasty cold.

ANNE (_coldly_). It will be better when he has finished his breakfast.

LEONARD (_hurt_). I _have_ finished my breakfast. A long time ago.

ANNE. I beg your pardon. (_She indicates the towel round his neck_) I misunderstood.

LEONARD (_pulling it away_). I’ve been shaving.

EUSTASIA. But, Leonard dear, I don’t understand. I’ve never known you ill before.

LEONARD. I never have been ill before. But I am ill now. Very ill. And nobody minds. Nobody minds at all. This fellow Latimer invaygles me here—

LATIMER. Inveegles.

LEONARD. I shall pronounce it how I like. It is quite time I asserted myself. I have been too patient. You invaygle me here and purposely give me a cold. You—(_pointing accusingly to ANNE_)—are entirely unmoved by my sufferings, instead of which you make fun of the very simple breakfast which I had forced myself to eat. You—(_to NICHOLAS_)—run away with my wife, at a time when I am ill and unable to protect her, and you—(_to EUSTASIA_)—well, all I can say is that you surprise me, Eustasia, you surprise me. I didn’t think you had it in you.

LATIMER. A masterly summing up of the case. Well, I hope you’re all ashamed of yourselves.

EUSTASIA. But, Leonard, how rash of you to _think_ of running away with a cold like this. (_She goes up and comforts him_) You must take care of yourself—Eustasia will take care of you and get you well. Poor boy! He had a nasty, nasty cold, and nobody looked after him. Mr. Latimer, I shall want some mustard, and hot water, and eucalyptus.

LATIMER. But of course!

LEONARD (_to ANNE_). There you are! As soon as somebody who really understands illness comes on the scene, you see what happens. Mustard, hot water, eucalyptus—she has it all at her finger-ends.

_Enter DOMINIC._

DOMINIC. Yes, sir?

LATIMER. A small mustard and water for his lordship.

EUSTASIA. It’s to put his feet in, not to drink.

LATIMER. A large mustard and water.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir.

EUSTASIA. Hot water.

DOMINIC. Yes, my lady.

EUSTASIA. And if you have any eucalyptus——

DOMINIC. Yes, my lady; we got some in specially for his lordship.

LATIMER. Did Mr. Nicholas absorb all the last bottle?

DOMINIC. Yes, sir.

NICHOLAS (_with feeling_). I fairly lived on it.

DOMINIC (_to EUSTASIA_). Is there anything else his lordship will require?

NICHOLAS. What about a mustard-plaster?

LEONARD. Please mind your own business.

EUSTASIA. No, I don’t think there’s anything else, thank you.

NICHOLAS. Well, I call that very unfair. I had one.

LEONARD (_asserting his rights as a husband_). Oh, did you? Well, in that case, Eustasia, I certainly don’t see why——

LATIMER (_to DOMINIC_). Two mustard-plasters. We mustn’t grudge his lordship anything.

DOMINIC. Yes, sir.

[_He retires._

EUSTASIA (_to LEONARD_). Now come over here, darling, away from the door. (_She leads him to an arm-chair in the corner of the room_) Lean on me.

ANNE. Surely one can walk with a cold in the head!

NICHOLAS. No, it’s very dangerous.

LATIMER. Nicholas speaks as an expert.

EUSTASIA (_settling LEONARD_). There! Is that comfy?

LEONARD. Thank you, Eustasia.

EUSTASIA. We’ll soon have you all right, dear.

LEONARD (_pressing her hand_). Thank you.

LATIMER (_after a little silence_). Well, as Nicholas said just now, “Here we all are, and we’ve got to make the best of it.” What are we all going to do?

ANNE. Please leave me out of it. (_She is beaten, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters now is to get out of this horrible house._) I can make my own arrangements. (_She gives them a cool little bow as she goes out._) If you will excuse me.

(_DOMINIC comes in with a clinical thermometer on a tray._)

DOMINIC. I thought that her ladyship might require a thermometer for his lordship’s temperature.

EUSTASIA. Thank you. I think it would be safer just to take it. And I wondered if we couldn’t just put this screen round his lordship’s chair.

DOMINIC. Certainly, my lady, one can’t be too careful. (_He helps her with it._)

EUSTASIA. Yes, that’s right.

LATIMER (_to NICHOLAS_). Did _you_ have the screen?

NICHOLAS. Oh, rather.

LATIMER. And the thermometer?

NICHOLAS. Yes.... Funny thing was I liked it just at first. I don’t mean the actual thermometer, I mean all the fussing.

LATIMER. It’s a wonderful invention, a cold in the head. It finds you out. There’s nothing like it, Nicholas, nothing.

EUSTASIA (_to DOMINIC_). Thank you. And you’re bringing the other things?

DOMINIC. Yes, my lady, as soon as ready.

[_He goes out._

EUSTASIA. Thank you. (_To LEONARD_) Now, dear, under the tongue. (_She puts it in his mouth._)

LEONARD (_mumbling_). I don’t think I ever——

EUSTASIA. No, dear, don’t try to talk.

(_And now it is the turn of NICHOLAS._)

NICHOLAS (_coming close to LATIMER_). I say——

LATIMER. Well?

NICHOLAS (_indicating the screen_). I say, not too loud.

LATIMER (_in a whisper_). Well?

NICHOLAS. Well, what about it?

LATIMER. What about what?

NICHOLAS. I mean, where do I come in? As a man of honour, oughtn’t I to—er—— You see what I mean? Of course I want to do the right thing.

LATIMER. Naturally, my dear Nicholas. It’s what one expected of you.

NICHOLAS. I thought that if I slipped away now, unostentatiously....

LATIMER. With just a parting word of farewell——

NICHOLAS. Well, that was what I was wondering. Would anything in the nature of a farewell be in good taste?

LATIMER. I see your point.

NICHOLAS. Don’t think that I’m not just as devoted to Eustasia as ever I was.

LATIMER. But you feel that in the circumstances you could worship her from afar with more propriety.

NICHOLAS (_waving a hand at the screen_). Yes. You see, I had no idea that they were so devoted.

LATIMER. But their devotion may not last for ever.

NICHOLAS. Exactly. That’s why I thought I’d slip away now.

LATIMER. Oh, Nicholas! Oh, Nicholas!

NICHOLAS (_a little offended_). Well, I don’t want to say anything against Eustasia——

LATIMER. The house is full of people who don’t want to say anything against Eustasia.

NICHOLAS. But, you see—— Look out, here’s Miss Anne.

_ANNE comes in._

LATIMER. Anne, you’re just in time. Nicholas wants your advice.

NICHOLAS. I say, shut up! We can’t very well——

ANNE (_with all that is left of her dignity, but she is only a child after all_). Mr. Latimer, I went upstairs to get my things and find my way to the nearest railway station. But—but there is a reason why I am not going after all. Just yet. I thought I’d better tell you.

LATIMER. Were you really thinking of going? (_She nods._) I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind.

ANNE (_with a smile_). There are reasons why I had to.

LATIMER. Bless them!... Nicholas, I believe she stayed just so that she might help you.

ANNE. What does Mr. Nicholas want?

NICHOLAS. I say, it’s awfully good of you and all that, but this is rather—I mean, it’s a question that a fellow ought to settle for himself.

LATIMER. What he means is, ought _he_ to get his things and find his way to the nearest railway station?

ANNE (_dismayed_). Oh no!

LATIMER. There you are, Nicholas.

NICHOLAS (_rather flattered_). Oh, well—well—— (_He looks at her admiringly_) Well, perhaps you’re right.

EUSTASIA (_the three minutes up_). There! (_She takes the thermometer out and comes from behind the screen in order to get nearer the light._)

LATIMER. His temperature! This is an exciting moment in the history of the House of Lords. (_He follows EUSTASIA to the window._)

NICHOLAS (_to ANNE_). I say, do you really think I ought to stay?

ANNE. Please, Mr. Nicholas, I want you to stay.

NICHOLAS. Righto! then I’ll stay.

LATIMER (_over EUSTASIA’S shoulder_). A hundred and nine.

LEONARD (_putting his head round the screen_). I say, what ought it to be?

NICHOLAS. Ninety-eight.

LEONARD. Good Lord! I’m dying!

EUSTASIA. It’s just ninety-nine. A little over normal, Leonard, but nothing to matter.

LATIMER. _Ninety_-nine—so it is. I should never have forgiven myself if it had been a hundred and nine.

NICHOLAS (_coming up to LATIMER_). It’s all right, I’m going to.

EUSTASIA (_surprised_). Going to? Going to what?

NICHOLAS (_confused_). Oh, nothing.

LATIMER. What he means is that he is going to be firm. He thinks we all ought to have a little talk about things. Just to see where we are.

EUSTASIA. Well, things aren’t quite as they were, are they? If I’d known that Leonard was ill—but I’ve seen so little of him lately. And he’s _never_ been ill before!

NICHOLAS. Of course we ought to know where we are.

LATIMER. Yes. At present Leonard is behind that screen, which makes it difficult to discuss things properly. Leonard, could you——

EUSTASIA. Oh, we mustn’t take any risks! But if we moved the screen a little, and all sat up at that end of the room——

LATIMER. Delightful!

NICHOLAS (_leading the way_). Sit here, Miss Anne, won’t you?

(_They arrange themselves. LATIMER in the middle._)

LATIMER. There! Now, are we all here?... We are. Then with your permission, Ladies and Gentlemen, I will open the proceedings with a short speech.

NICHOLAS. Oh, I say, must you?

LATIMER. Certainly.

EUSTASIA (_to LEONARD_). Hush, dear.

LEONARD. I didn’t say anything.

EUSTASIA. No, but you were just going to.

LATIMER (_severely_). Seeing that I refrained from making my speech when Leonard had the thermometer in his mouth, the least he can do now is to listen in silence.

LEONARD. Well, I’m——

LATIMER. I resume.... By a fortunate concatenation of circumstances, ladies and gentlemen—or, as more illiterate men would say, by a bit of luck—two runaway couples have met under my roof. No need to mention names. You can all guess for yourselves. But I call now—this is the end of my speech, Leonard—I call now upon my noble friend on the right to tell us just why he left the devoted wife by his side in order to travel upon the Continent.

LEONARD. Well, really——

LATIMER. Naturally Leonard does not wish to say anything against Eustasia. Very creditable to him. But can it be that the devoted wife by his side wishes to say anything against Leonard?

EUSTASIA. You neglected me, Leonard, you know you did. And when I was so ill——

LEONARD. My dear, you were _always_ ill. That was the trouble.

LATIMER. And you were never ill, Leonard. _That_ was the trouble.... You heartless ruffian!

EUSTASIA (_to LEONARD_). Hush, dear.

LATIMER. Why couldn’t you have had a cold sometimes? Why couldn’t you have come home with a broken leg, or lost your money, or made a rotten speech in the House of Lords? If she could never be sorry for _you_, for whom else could she be sorry, except herself? (_To EUSTASIA_) I don’t suppose he even lost his umbrella, did he?

ANNE (_feeling that anything is possible to a man who mislays his trousers_). Oh, he must have lost that.

LATIMER. Eustasia, ladies and gentlemen, is one of those dear women, those sweet women, those delightful women—(_aside to ANNE_)—stop me if I’m overdoing it—those adorable women who must always cosset or be cosseted. She couldn’t cosset Leonard; Leonard wouldn’t cosset her. Hence—the Dover Road.

EUSTASIA. How well you understand, Mr. Latimer!

LATIMER. Enter, then, my friend Nicholas. (_Shaking his head at him_) Oh, Nicholas! Oh, Nicholas! Oh, Nicholas!

NICHOLAS (_uneasily_). What’s all that about?

LATIMER. Anything you say will be used in evidence against you. Proceed, my young friend.

NICHOLAS. Well—well—well—I mean, there she was.

LATIMER. Lonely.

NICHOLAS. Exactly.

LATIMER. Neglected by her brute of a husband—(_As LEONARD opens his mouth_) fingers crossed, Leonard—who spent day and night rioting in the House of Lords while his poor little wife cried at home.

NICHOLAS. Well——

LATIMER. Then out spake bold Sir Nicholas—(_Aside to ANNE_) This was also composed in my bath—

Then out spake bold Sir Nicholas, An Oxford man was he; “Lo, I will write a note to-night And ask her out to tea.”

NICHOLAS. Well, you see——

LATIMER. I see, Nicholas.... And so here we all are.

ANNE. Except me.

LATIMER. I guessed at you, Anne. Did I guess right?

ANNE (_meekly_). Yes.

LATIMER. And so here we all are.... And what are we all going to do? My house is at your disposal for as long as you wish. The doors are open for those who wish to go.... Eustasia?

EUSTASIA. My duty is to stay here—to look after my husband.

LATIMER. Well, that settles Eustasia.... Anne?

ANNE. Of necessity I must stay here—for the present.

LATIMER. Well, that settles Anne.... Nicholas?

NICHOLAS. I stay here too—(_looking at ANNE_) from choice.

LATIMER. Well, that settles Nicholas.... Leonard?

(_DOMINIC, followed by all the Staff, comes in, together with a collection of mustard-baths, plasters, eucalyptus, etc., etc._)

LATIMER (_looking round at the interruption_). Ah!... And this will settle Leonard.

(_It settles him._)