ACT I
The scene is the drawing-room of Mrs. Lancaster’s flat in London. The colors and decoration are on the verge of being original. The furniture is simple but distinctly expensive.
Persons shown are Helen Saville and Pauncefort Quentin. Helen Saville and Pauncefort Quentin are shown in by Preston. Helen is a smartly dressed woman of about thirty. “Pawnie” is an elderly maiden gentleman.
Preston
I’m expecting Mrs. Lancaster in at any moment now, ma’am.
Helen
Thank you, Preston, we’ll wait a little.
Preston
Shall I get you some tea?
Helen
No, thanks, we’ve already had some—give me a cigarette, Pawnie; they’re in that box on the table.
[Pawnie hands her cigarette box. Preston goes out.]
Pawnie
It may be tiresome of me, but I think all this coloring is oppressive.
Helen
You make such a “fetish” of house decoration, Pawnie.
Pawnie
[Wandering round the room]
Not at all, but I do like things to be good and right.
Helen
Well, I don’t consider the new frieze in your bathroom either good or right.
Pawnie
How can you, Helen! It’s too marvelous for words. Parelli designed it specially for me.
Helen
Personally, it would make me self-conscious to sit in a bath surrounded by frisky gods and goddesses all with such better figures than mine.
Pawnie
I find it encouraging. This whole room is so typical of Florence.
Helen
In what way?
Pawnie
Every way. Look at the furniture.
Helen
A little artificial perhaps, but quite harmless.
Pawnie
Dear Helen, you’re such a loyal friend.
Helen
I’m very fond of Florence.
Pawnie
We all are. Oh, my God, look at that lampshade!
Helen
I gave it to her last Christmas.
Pawnie
Wasn’t that a little naughty of you?
Helen
I don’t see why; it’s extremely pretty.
Pawnie
Too unrestrained. Such a bad example for the servants. [He takes up frame from desk.] Who’s this boy?
Helen
Tom Veryan. You must have seen him.
Pawnie
Florence’s past, present, or future?
Helen
Present.
Pawnie
He has that innocent look that never fails to attract elderly women.
Helen
Don’t be a cat.
Pawnie
I wasn’t meaning Florence; she’s too divine to be in any marked category.
Helen
I wonder.
Pawnie
Oh, yes, Helen, deathless sort of magnetism, you know.
Helen
I often wonder what will happen to Florence eventually.
Pawnie
My dear, I’m far too occupied in wondering what’s going to happen to me to worry about other people.
Helen
I’ve always thought your course was quite clear, Pawnie.
Pawnie
However offensive that remark was intended to be, Helen, I shall take it in the most complimentary spirit.
Helen
I’m sure you will.
Pawnie
I expect Florence will just go on and on, then suddenly become quite beautifully old, and go on and on still more.
Helen
It’s too late now for her to become beautifully old, I’m afraid. She’ll have to be young indefinitely.
Pawnie
I don’t suppose she’ll mind that, but it’s trying for David.
Helen
And fiendish for Nicky.
Pawnie
Oh, no, my dear; you’re quite wrong there. I’m sure Nicky doesn’t care a damn.
Helen
It’s difficult to tell with Nicky.
Pawnie
He’s divinely selfish; all amusing people are.
Helen
Did you hear him play in Paris?
Pawnie
Yes.
Helen
Well?
Pawnie
Erratic—one or two things perfect, but he’s slovenly.
Helen
He only takes things seriously in spurts, but still he’s very young.
Pawnie
Do you really think that’s a good excuse.
Helen
No, I’m afraid not, especially when so much depends on it.
Pawnie
What does depend on it?
Helen
Everything—his life’s happiness.
Pawnie
Don’t be so terribly intense, dear.
Helen
It’s true.
Pawnie
I’m quite sure Nicky will be perfectly happy as long as he goes on attracting people; he loves being attractive.
Helen
Naturally, he’s Florence’s son.
Pawnie
Such an exciting thing to be.
Helen
You don’t believe Nicky’s got anything in him at all, do you?
Pawnie (lightly)
I don’t think it matters, anyway.
Helen
I do.
Pawnie
But you’ve got a loving nature, Helen. I always know it.
Helen
Nicky hasn’t had a chance.
Pawnie
Nonsense—he’s had everything he wanted ever since the day he was born, and he’ll go on wasting his opportunities until he dies.
Helen
Quite possibly.
Pawnie
Well, there you are then.
Helen
He may have had everything he wanted, but he’s had none of the things he really needs.
Pawnie
Are you talking socially or spiritually?
Helen
You’re quite right, Pawnie, you wouldn’t be so beautifully preserved if you’d wasted any of your valuable time or sincerity.
Pawnie
I forgive you for that, Helen, freely.
Helen
Thank you so much.
Pawnie
You must realize one thing, everyone is sacrificed to Florence—it’s as it should be—of course, she’s a couple of hundred years too late—she ought to have been a flaunting, intriguing King’s mistress, with black page boys and jade baths and things too divine——
[Enter Preston.]
Preston
[Announcing]
Miss Hibbert.
[Enter Clara Hibbert—she is affected, but quite well-dressed. Preston goes out.]
Clara
My dears. Isn’t Florence back yet?
Helen
No, we’re waiting for her.
Pawnie
You look harassed, Clara.
Clara
I am harassed.
Helen
Why?
Clara
I’m singing to-night for Laura Tennant—she’s giving a dreadful reception at her dreadful house for some dreadful Ambassador——
Pawnie
How dreadful!
Clara
No one will listen to me, of course—they’ll all be far too busy avoiding the Cup and searching for the Champagne.
Helen
What are you singing?
Clara
One Gabriel Faure, two Reynaldo Hahn’s and an Aria.
Pawnie
Which Aria?
Clara
I can’t think, but my accompanist will know—I’ve got a frightful headache.
Helen
Why don’t you take off your hat?
Clara
My dear, I daren’t—I’ve just had my hair done—I suppose you haven’t got a “Cachet Faivre,” either of you?
Helen
No, but Florence has, I expect—Preston will know where they are—ring the bell, Pawnie.
Pawnie
[Ringing bell]
My poor Clara—I do hope your singing to-night will justify the fuss you’re making this afternoon.
Clara
Don’t be so brutal, Pawnie.
Helen
Is Gregory going with you?
Clara
Of course—I never sing unless he’s there—he gives me such marvelous moral support.
Pawnie
“Moral” is hardly the word I should have chosen, dear.
[Enter Preston.]
Helen
Do you know if Mrs. Lancaster has any “Cachet Faivre” anywhere?
Preston
Yes, ma’am—I think so.
Clara
Do get me one, Preston, I’m suffering tortures.
Preston
Very well, miss.
[She goes out.]
Pawnie
Preston has such wonderful poise, hasn’t she?
Helen
She needs it in this house.
Clara
I do wish Florence would hurry up. I want to borrow her green fan. I’ve got a new Patou frock that positively demands it.
Helen
She can’t be long now.
Clara
I suppose I daren’t ask Preston for the fan and creep away with it?
Helen
I shouldn’t, if I were you—Florence is very touchy over that sort of thing.
Clara
She promised it to me ages ago.
Pawnie
Surely there isn’t such a desperate hurry? You won’t be singing until about half-past eleven.
Clara
[Petulantly]
My dear, I’ve got to rehearse—I don’t know a word——
[Re-enter Preston with a “Cachet Faivre” and a glass of water.]
Clara
You’re a saint, Preston—thank you a thousand times——
Pawnie
Soak it a little first, dear, or you’ll choke, and I should detest that.
[Clara soaks “Cachet” and then swallows it. Preston goes out.]
Clara
Now I must lie down flat—get out of the way, Helen.
Pawnie
Perhaps you’d like us both to go right out of the room and sit in the hall?
Clara
No, Pawnie, I should never expect the least consideration from you.
[She lies down flat on the divan, Helen arranges cushions for her.]
Clara
Thank you, Helen darling—I shall always come to you whenever I’m ill.
Helen
That will be nice.
[Enter Florence Lancaster followed by Tom Veryan. Florence is brilliantly dressed almost to the point of being “outré.” Her face still retains the remnants of great beauty. Tom is athletic and good-looking. One feels he is good at games and extremely bad at everything else.]
Florence
Helen—Pawnie, have you been here long?
Pawnie
No, only a few hours.
Florence
My dear. I’m so frightfully sorry—we’ve been held up for ages in the traffic. Davis is a congenital idiot. Always manages to get to a turning just as the policeman puts out his hand. No initiative whatever. What’s happened to Clara? Has she been run over?
Clara
No, dear, I’ve got a frightful head.
Florence
Pawnie, you know Tom, don’t you?—Tom Veryan, Mr. Quentin, I’m sure you’ll adore each other.
Tom
[Shaking hands]
How are you?
Pawnie
Very well, thank you—how sweet of you to ask me?
Florence
Is there anything I can do, Clara?
Clara
Yes, dear, lend me your green fan for to-night.
Florence
All right—but you won’t get too carried away with it, will you, dear? I should hate the feathers to come out. Does anyone want any tea?
Helen
No thanks, dear.
Florence
Cocktails, then?
Pawnie
It’s too early.
Florence
[Ringing bell]
It’s never too early for a cocktail.
Clara
I should like to go quite quietly into a convent and never see anybody again ever——
Pawnie
Gregory would be bored stiff in a convent.
Florence
We’ve just been to a most frightful Charity matinée. Nothing but inaudible speeches from dreary old actors, and leading ladies nudging one another all over the stage. [Preston enters.] Cocktails, Preston, and ask Barker to wrap up my green fan for Miss Hibbert to take away with her.
Preston
Very good, ma’am.
[She goes out.]
Clara
You’re an angel, Florence—I think I’ll sit up now.
Florence
Do, dear, then Tom will be able to sit down.
Clara
[Sitting up]
I really do feel most peculiar.
Pawnie
You look far from normal, dear.
Clara
If Pawnie’s rude to me any more I shall burst into tears.
Florence
Tom, give me a cigarette.
Pawnie
Here are some.
Florence
No, Tom has a special rather hearty kind that I adore.
Clara
Lend me your lip stick, Helen; mine has sunk down into itself.
Helen
Here you are.
Clara
What a lovely color! I look far prettier than I feel.
Florence
[To Tom]
Thank you, angel.
Clara
I shan’t be able to get down to the house until Saturday evening, Florence—I’m seeing Gregory off to Newcastle.
Pawnie
Why Newcastle?
Clara
His home’s just near there—isn’t it too awful for him?
Florence
Well, wire me the time of your train, won’t you?
Clara
Of course, dear.
Helen
You’re smelling divinely, Florence. What is it?
Florence
[Flicking her handkerchief]
It is good, isn’t it?
Pawnie
“Narcisse Noir” of Caron. I use it.
Florence
Yes, you would, Pawnie.
[Re-enter Preston with parcel.]
Preston
Here is the fan, miss.
Clara
[Taking it]
Thank you so much—you are sweet, Florence. A fan gives me such a feeling of security when I’m singing modern stuff. [Preston goes out.] I must rush now——
Florence
Don’t you want a cocktail before you go?
Clara
No, darling—I should only hiccup all the evening. Good-bye, you’ve been such a comfort—good-bye, Helen—Pawnie, you will be nicer to me over the week-end, won’t you? I shall be so depressed, what with Gregory going away and everything—Good-bye, Tom—I shall dine in bed and give way at every pore——
[She goes out.]
Pawnie
Poor Clara—she eternally labors under the delusion that she really matters.
Helen
We all do that a little.
Florence
[Laughing]
You’re awfully cruel to her, Pawnie.
Pawnie
She upsets my vibrations.
Florence
[Before glass]
I’ve taken a sudden hatred to this hat. [She takes it off.] That’s better—are you going to the “New Elaine” to-night, either of you?
Helen
I’m not—but Pawnie is, of course.
Pawnie
It’s going to be amazing—what a cast, my dear! Marvelous Selwyn Steele, Nora Dean, and that perfect woman, Lily Burfield——
Helen
I can’t stand her, she always over-acts.
Pawnie
[Incensed]
How can you, Helen! Did you see her in “Simple Faith”?
Helen
Yes, unfortunately.
Pawnie
Oh, you’re really too tiresome for words!
Helen
Her technique creaks like machinery.
Pawnie
It’s sacrilege—she’s too, too marvelous.
[Enter Preston with a tray of cocktails. All help themselves.]
Florence
What do you think about it, Tom?
Tom
I’ve never seen her.
Florence
Yes, you have. About three months ago, at the Comedy.
Tom
Oh.... I don’t remember.
Pawnie
Don’t remember! An artist like that! Good God, it’s agony!
Helen
You’ll look awfully tired at dinner-time, Pawnie, if you don’t calm down a little.
Florence
This is special—my own invention.
Helen
Absolutely delicious.
Tom
A bit too sweet.
Florence
Tom, darling, don’t be so taciturn—he’s always taciturn after a matinée.
Pawnie
When’s Nicky coming back?
Florence
To-morrow. Isn’t it too divine? He’s been away for a whole year, but I saw him for a moment on my way through Paris last month.
Pawnie
Has he been working hard?
Florence
I suppose so, but you know what Nicky is—bless his heart!
Pawnie
I heard him play at Yvonne Mirabeau’s.
Florence
She’s a loathsome woman, isn’t she?
Helen
Not as bad as that.
Pawnie
She’s a half-wit. I can’t bear half-wits.
Florence
She goes on so dreadfully about things—devastating.
Pawnie
Funny Nicky liking her so much.
Florence
Only because she keeps on saying how wonderful he is—that always appeals to Nicky.
Pawnie
How old is he now?
Florence
Twenty-four. Isn’t it absurd to think I have such a grown-up son—old General Fenwick said last Thursday that—— [The telephone rings; she goes to it.] Hallo—hallo! Yes, my dear. How are you?... Yes, so am I, simply worn out.... No. When? How perfectly marvelous!... No, dear, it’s a prescription; but I can let you have a little in a jar.... Quite easy. All you do is just rub it on at night.... Don’t be so silly.... Not in the least; if you send the car round that will be all right.... Very well.... Good-bye, darling. [She hangs up receiver.] I give Clara Hibbert ten for stupidity. Don’t you, Helen?
Helen
A hundred and ten.
Pawnie
Ten’s the limit.
Tom
I say, Florence—I think I’d better be getting along if I’ve got to be dressed and back here by half-past seven——
Florence
You’ve got half an hour.
Tom
That’s not very much.
Florence
The car’s outside ... take it and send it straight back.
Pawnie
Can it drop me, Florence dear? I always feel so much richer in your car than anyone else’s.
Florence
Of course, Pawnie.
[The telephone rings again.]
Florence
[At telephone]
Hallo!... Yes ... speaking.... How do you do——?
Pawnie
Good-bye, Helen. It’s been divine——
Helen
Ring me up at tea-time to-morrow.
Florence
How perfectly sweet of you!... Now, now, really.... Well, naturally, if you persist in saying such charming things ... [laughing gayly] ... What nonsense!...
Pawnie
Good-bye, Florence——
Florence
[She puts her hand over mouthpiece]
It’s that awful General Fenwick.... Good-bye, Pawnie dear. You’re coming down to the house on Friday?
Pawnie
Yes; too lovely——
Florence
Helen’s coming by the five-o’clock—you’d better travel together.
Pawnie
Perfect. [To Tom.] Are you ready?
Tom
Quite.
Pawnie
[As they go out]
You can drop me first, can’t you? I’m not as young as I was——
Florence
[At telephone]
Please forgive me. People rushing in and out, this house grows more like a railway station every day.... Now, General, that was a deliberate compliment. [She laughs.] Ridiculous man.... Very well.... Good-bye. [She hangs up receiver.] My God! ten for dreariness!
Helen
He’s not a bad old thing.
Florence
No, but he tries to be, and that’s what’s so frightful. [Arranging her hair before glass.] I look like Death.... Isn’t Tom a darling?
Helen
Yes, dear, without being aggressively brilliant.
Florence
I’m afraid, Helen, you’re getting rather bitter.
Helen
Nonsense.
Florence
It’s silly to be sarcastic about Tom.
Helen
It’s better than being maudlin about him.
Florence
I don’t know what you mean, dear. I’m not in the least maudlin, and never have been about anybody. I sometimes wish I could be—I’m too hard.
Helen
[Taking a cigarette]
Tom will let you down.
Florence
Let me down? Why ... how ... I don’t understand——
Helen
You’re more in love with him than he is with you.
Florence
Don’t be so absurd, Helen.
Helen
It’s true.
Florence
[Complacently]
He adores me—worships me—he’s never seen anyone like me before in his life. I’m something strange ... exotic——
Helen
You’re more in love with him than he is with you.
Florence
You’re getting on my nerves to-day, Helen.
Helen
You do see that I’m right, don’t you?
Florence
If you knew some of the things he’s said to me.
Helen
I can guess them.
Florence
That boy was utterly unawakened until he met me.
Helen
He’s very young.
Florence
I’ve taught him—everything.
Helen
Or nothing.
Florence
Helen, I believe you’re jealous.
Helen
Don’t be a fool.
Florence
I wish I hadn’t this fatal knack of seeing through people.
Helen
How’s David?
Florence
I don’t know. He ought to be home soon.
Helen
Doesn’t he ever suspect anything?
Florence
Of course not—he adores me.
Helen
It seems so strange not to see——
Florence
I’m devoted to David—I’d do anything for him, anything in the world—but he’s grown old and I’ve kept young; it does muddle things up so. I can’t help having a temperament, can I?
Helen
Temperament.... No.
Florence
David’s always loved me and never understood me—you see, I’m such an extraordinary mixture. I have so many sides to my character. I adore being at home and running the house and looking after David and Nicky——
Helen
You don’t exactly overdo it.
Florence
Well, Nicky’s been away for such ages. Also, one must be in London for the season. You can’t expect me to bury myself in the country indefinitely. I shall be there practically all through the spring and summer.
Helen
Lovely tennis parties and cricket weeks and things——
Florence
Certainly.
Helen
[Kissing her]
You’re a divine creature, Florence.
Florence
[Basking]
Am I? [The telephone rings.] Hallo!... Yes—speaking. [To Helen in a whisper.] It’s Inez Zulieta. I never went to her recital.... Inez darling, I never recognized your voice.... Didn’t you get my note?... It was absolutely true, I was in agony.... Inez, don’t be angry. If you only knew how I longed for the sound of your wonderful, wonderful voice.... Darling.... Inez, don’t be so cruel.... To-morrow, then. [She hangs up receiver.] I do wish Inez wasn’t so persistent.
Helen
You never stop encouraging her.
Florence
Oh, Helen, I’m so tired of everyone.
Helen
Except Tom?
Florence
Yes, except Tom; he’s such a darling.
Helen
How do you think he and Nicky will get on?
Florence
Marvelously—Tom loves music.
Helen
He says he does.
Florence
My dear, I took him to that Russian thing the other day and he sat entranced from beginning to end.
Helen
Poor Nicky!
Florence
Why do you say that?
Helen
Because I sometimes feel it.
Florence
[Suddenly furious]
Oh, I wonder why we’re such friends—we’re so opposite—you don’t understand me a bit. I used to think you did, but you’ve been different lately—unsympathetic.
Helen
No, I haven’t.
Florence
Yes, you have—over Tom—I believe you’re in love with him yourself.
Helen
[Smiling]
No—it isn’t that.
Florence
Anyhow, you can’t bear him being in love with me.
Helen
I don’t think he is—really. I quite realize that he was very violently infatuated, but that is wearing off a bit now. I’m beginning to see him as he is....
Florence
No, no, it’s not true—you don’t understand——
Helen
We are friends, Florence, though we’re so “opposite.” Do you really know the truth—inside you? Or is all this shrill vanity real?
Florence
What’s the matter with you?
Helen
You’re ten years older than I am, but when I’m your age I shall be twenty years older than you.
Florence
Darling, how deliciously involved—what can you mean by that?
Helen
I mean, I think it’s silly not to grow old when the time comes.
[She rises and goes towards door.]
Florence
[Outraged]
Helen! [There is suddenly heard a violent knocking at the front door.] What on earth is that?
[There is a noise outside, then the door bursts open and Nicky enters. He is extremely well-dressed in traveling clothes. He is tall and pale, with thin, nervous hands.]
Florence
Nicky!
Nicky
Mother!
[He embraces her.]
Florence
But I’d no idea—I thought you were coming to-morrow.
Nicky
No, to-day—I wrote to you.
Florence
I’m terribly, terribly excited.
Nicky
Helen, dear, how are you?
[He kisses her.]
Helen
Splendid, Nicky.
Florence
I can’t get over you arriving like this.... I never realized——
Nicky
Silly ... you’re looking awfully well.
Florence
Am I?
Nicky
Wonderful, as usual.
Florence
I was talking to George Morrison only last Thursday——
Nicky
The man who wrote that fearful book?
Florence
It isn’t a fearful book, it’s brilliant—anyhow, he absolutely refused to believe that I had a grown-up son.
Helen
My dears, I must fly.
Nicky
Don’t go yet.
Helen
I must—I’m hours late as it is.
Nicky
Be a little later, then.
Florence
Remember, five-o’clock train on Friday.
Nicky
Oh, is she coming down to the house? Divine!
Helen
Yes, if Florence is still speaking to me. Good-bye.
[She goes out.]
Nicky
Have you been having a scene?
Florence
No, dear.
Nicky
She’s a darling—Helen——
Florence
Extremely stupid and tactless sometimes.
Nicky
It doesn’t feel as though I’d been away at all.
Florence
I’ve missed you appallingly—we had such a short time together in Paris. Did you enjoy all my letters?
Nicky
I adored them—so did John Bagot. I used to read most of them aloud to him. He’s mad on you—saw your pictures in the Tatler, or something, and fell in love with it.
Florence
Is he nice?
Nicky
He’s grand.
Florence
We must all dine at the Embassy. When is he coming to England?
Nicky
Not until after Christmas.
Florence
You must see my new photographs; they’re wonderful.
[She takes large packet from desk.]
Nicky
It’s heavenly—being back.
Florence
Look.
Nicky
I don’t like that one.
Florence
How can you, Nicky! Tom likes that one best of all.
Nicky
Who’s Tom?
Florence
Tom Veryan—he’s a dear; you’ll like him frightfully—you know—the very nicest type of Englishman.
Nicky
I hate the very nicest type of Englishman.
Florence
Don’t be tiresome, Nicky; he’s only twenty-four, and they all think so well of him——
Nicky
All who?
Florence
All his officers and people; he’s in the Brigade.
Nicky
[Holding photograph away from him and scrutinizing it through half-closed eyes]
Now that one really is enchanting—they’ve got your hair beautifully. Oh, yes, my dear, it’s perfect——
Florence
[Complacently]
It is good. She’s sweet—Madame Henderson, she simply won’t hear of my paying for these—she says it’s quite sufficient to be allowed to exhibit them in the window.
Nicky
Is anyone dining this evening?
Florence
No. Oh, dear! I’d forgotten—I’m dining out with Tom.
Nicky
Oh—I see.
Florence
Your first night home, too—how perfectly fiendish. What a fool I am to have muddled it up.
Nicky
It doesn’t matter, darling.
Florence
Oh, but it does. I wonder if we could get another seat——
Nicky
Seat? What for?
Florence
We’re going to the first night of “The New Elaine.” It’s going to be marvelous.
Nicky
Who’s in it?
Florence
Nora Dean and Selwyn Steele——
Nicky
Oh, God!
Florence
It’s silly of you always to jeer at Selwyn Steele. He’ s a brilliant actor, if only he could get away from his wife....
Nicky
I couldn’t bear him to-night, anyway; I’m tired. Is father home yet?
Florence
No, I don’t think so. Oh, I do feel such a beast——
Nicky
Don’t be silly—honestly, I don’t mind a bit.
Florence
I know—you have a nice quiet dinner here and join us at the Embassy afterwards.
Nicky
Is it a late night?
Florence
Yes, they play the most heavenly tune there now—Tom always makes them do it over and over again—I’ll put it on——
[She goes to the gramophone.]
Nicky
How’s Iris?
Florence
My dear, don’t speak of her.
Nicky
Why—what’s she done?
Florence
She’s been absolutely foul.
Nicky
In what way?
Florence
Every way—I never trusted her, luckily—Thank God I’ve got instincts about people—listen, isn’t this marvelous—She said the most filthy things to Gloria Craig about me—I always knew she was insanely jealous, but there are limits. I loathe being at people’s beck and call.... Come and dance.
Nicky
[As they dance]
I’m sorry you’ve rowed—I rather liked her——
Florence
Only because she kept on saying how wonderful you were.... She doesn’t know a thing about music really.
Nicky
Oh yes, she does.
Florence
It’s merely bluff—all that appreciation. Darling, how oddly you’re dancing.
Nicky
It’s probably because we haven’t danced together for so long....
Florence
Anyhow, now she’s gone off to Monte Carlo with Violet Fenchurch—silly fool——
[Enter David Lancaster. He is an elderly gray-haired pleasant man.]
David
[Delighted]
Nicky—my boy——
Nicky
[Kissing him]
Hallo, father——
David
I thought—Florence said—to-morrow——
Nicky
Mother muddled it up.
David
You look rather tired.
Nicky
I’m splendid. How’s everything?
David
The same as usual. I’ve made lots of improvements down at the house.
Florence
David thinks and talks of nothing but the farm——
David
It’s beginning to pay a bit—Peterson’s an awfully good man.
Nicky
We’ll make a grand tour of it on Sunday.
David
Have you enjoyed yourself in Paris?
Nicky
Oh yes, rather—it’s a splendid place to work.
David
It never struck me that way quite, but still——
Florence
Sophie de Molignac said Nicky’s playing had improved wonderfully.
David
I’m so glad, Nicky.
Nicky
I’ve been doing some Spanish stuff lately.
David
I wish I knew more about it.
Nicky
Never mind, father.
David
Come to my room and talk. I can’t bear that thing——
Florence
Father’s such a beast; he never will dance with me.
David
Is the Evening News anywhere about?
Nicky
Yes, here.
[He gives it to him.]
David
I’m so glad you’re home again, Nicky—don’t forget—come and talk....
[He goes out.]
Florence
David’s so much happier in the country.
Nicky
Why on earth doesn’t he retire and live at the house for good?
Florence
Work has become such a habit with him—he’s always hated giving up habits.
Nicky
Mother—I’ve got something rather important to tell you.
Florence
Darling, how thrilling! What is it?
Nicky
I am engaged to be married.
Florence
What!
Nicky
Practically—as much as one can be these days.
Florence
Nicky!
Nicky
Don’t look so stricken.
Florence
But, Nicky—I never sort of visualized you being engaged, or married, or anything.
Nicky
Why not?
Florence
You’re not old enough.
Nicky
I’m twenty-four.
Florence
You don’t look it.... Thank God!
Nicky
What do you really feel about it, mother?
Florence
Darling—I hardly know what to say—you’ve sprung it on me so suddenly. Who is she?
Nicky
A girl called Bunty Mainwaring.
Florence
What a silly name!
Nicky
It isn’t at all—it’s very attractive.
Florence
Is she an actress, or a student, or what?
Nicky
Neither—she is what is technically termed a “lady.”
Florence
Do you think she’ll like me?
Nicky
She went mad over your photograph.
Florence
Which one?
Nicky
The “looking out of the window” one.
Florence
That really is one of the best I’ve ever had done.
Nicky
She said you had the face of an heroic little boy.
Florence
What a divine thing to say!
[She glances at herself in the glass.]
Nicky
She does say divine things—she’s supremely intelligent.
Florence
Is she in Paris?
Nicky
No, she came over with me to-day.
Florence
Where does she live?
Nicky
Just round the corner in Carbury Square.
Florence
Near the Churchingtons.
Nicky
It’s her mother’s house, but her mother’s away just now, so I asked her to change quickly and come on here.
Florence
Nicky!
Nicky
Why not? I wanted you to see her as soon as possible.
Florence
[Realizing parental responsibility]
It’s an awful shock, you know.
Nicky
Nonsense, mother—you’re quite excited about it, really.
Florence
[With determination]
I shall be charming to her.
Nicky
Then she’ll adore you at once—probably too much, and I shall be jealous.
Florence
You’d better both dine here together and come on to the Embassy. How old is she?
Nicky
Twenty-three.
Florence
What does she do?
Nicky
Nothing much—she writes things occasionally.
Florence
Where did you meet her?
Nicky
First of all at a party at Olive Lloyd-Kennedy’s.
Florence
I can’t bear Olive Lloyd-Kennedy—she’s a cat.
Nicky
Then I met her again at Marion Fawcett’s—a frightful sort of reception affair—she was staying with her.
Florence
She seems to move exclusively with my worst enemies. Is she pretty?
Nicky
I don’t know—I haven’t really noticed.
Florence
[With a touch of real feeling]
Nicky darling, I do feel so extraordinary about it.
Nicky
Why extraordinary?
Florence
It’s a milestone, isn’t it—you being engaged? A definite milestone? [She catches sight of herself.] Look at my nose. [She powders it.] I do hope she’ll like me—I must go and dress now; Tom is fetching me half-past seven. Bring her to my room when she comes.
Nicky
Don’t go for a minute.
Florence
I must, really—Tom will be furious.
Nicky
Oh, damn Tom!
Florence
Oh, Nicky, don’t go and take one of your tiresome prejudices against him.
Nicky
[Smiling]
All right, I’ll try not to.
Florence
He’s frightfully good-looking.
Nicky
Oh!
Florence
And he adores music.
Nicky
Now, then, mother——
Florence
He does, honestly.
Nicky
Good.
Florence
And he dances beautifully.
Nicky
I shall never stop dancing with him.
Florence
And he’s so good at games.
Nicky
He sounds adorable.
Florence
Of course, he needs knowing.
Nicky
So do I.
Florence
You will make an effort, though, darling, won’t you? For my sake!
Nicky
Yes, mother.
Florence
And we’ll all have a divine time together, Tom and me and you and what’s her name——
Nicky
Bunty.
Florence
Oh yes, of course, Bunty.
[Front door bell rings.]
Nicky
This is her, I expect.
Florence
Do you feel wonderful about her?
Nicky
Yes.
Florence
It is thrilling, isn’t it—being in love?
Nicky
[Frowning a little]
Yes.
Florence
Your father was right—you look awfully tired, Nicky.
Nicky
What nonsense! I feel grand.
[Enter Preston.]
Preston
[Announcing]
Miss Mainwaring.
[Bunty comes in, very self-assured and well-dressed. She is more attractive than pretty in a boyish sort of way.]
[Preston goes out.]
Nicky
Bunty. You have been quick.
Bunty
I’ve simply flown.
Nicky
Bunty ... here is mother....
Bunty
Oh!
Florence
[Taking both her hands]
This is frightfully exciting, isn’t it?
[She kisses her.]
Nicky
I’ve told her.
Bunty
Are you furious?
Florence
Of course not. Why should I be? ’Specially now.
Bunty
It’s absolutely incredible, you being Nicky’s mother.
Florence
Am I anything like you thought I’d be?
Bunty
Yes, exactly—but I couldn’t believe it until I saw you.
Florence
Take off that perfectly divine cloak and have a cigarette. I’ve got to rush and dress now, because I’m terribly late, but you’re dining here with Nicky and joining Tom Veryan and me at the Embassy afterwards.
Bunty
Tom Veryan?...
Florence
Yes. Do you know him?
Bunty
I did when I was a child—if it’s the same one.
[She takes off her cloak.]
Florence
[Effusively]
Nicky—I don’t feel extraordinary about it any more—I’m delighted.
Nicky
Angel.
Florence
Perhaps Bunty would like to come down to the house on Friday for the week-end?
Nicky
Oh yes! Marvelous.
Bunty
It’s awfully sweet of you, Mrs. Lancaster.
Florence
You must call me Florence; I can’t bear Mrs. Lancaster. I must fly; Tom will be here at any moment—that’s him on the desk.
Bunty
[Going over to photograph]
Yes—it is the same one.
Florence
How too divine!...
[Telephone rings.]
Hallo!... Yes, speaking!... Elsa darling, how are you?... What?... To-night?... How perfectly heavenly! Of course, I’d adore it.... Listen. Nicky’s just back from Paris. Can he come, too, with Bunty Mainwaring?... Yes, he’s here.... See you to-night, dear....
Here, Nicky, talk to Elsa....
[She snatches up her hand-bag and fur coat and kisses Bunty effusively.]
I’m so glad about you and Nicky—It’s too wonderful.
[She rushes out.]
Nicky
[At telephone]
Hallo, Elsa.... I’d no idea you were in London. I’m terribly thrilled. My dear, you haven’t.... All those lovely tunes you played to me in Paris?... How amazing! I am glad.... Have you done anything with that Tango?... You must play it to-night; I want Bunty to hear it.... It is perfect, isn’t it?... Good-bye, dear. [He hangs up the receiver.] Bunty.
Bunty
What?
Nicky
I’m terribly happy.
Bunty
So am I.
Nicky
Do you remember how we planned all this—coming home together—and breaking it to mother—and everything?
Bunty
Rather.
Nicky
Do you really like her?
Bunty
I adore her—she’s a perfect angel.
Nicky
I told her your “heroic little boy” line; she loved it.
Bunty
It’s true, you know—rather defiant too—laughing at Fate.
Nicky
Doesn’t Paris seem ages away now?
Bunty
A different life altogether.
Nicky
That nasty little bit of Channel is such an enormous gulf, really. Did you put that dress on on purpose.
Bunty
[Smiling]
Perhaps.
Nicky
You are a devil.
Bunty
It’s such fun being reminded of things.
Nicky
And such agony, too.
Bunty
Nicky darling—why agony?
Nicky
It’s always agony being in love, and I started loving you in that dress.
Bunty
Did you?
Nicky
Don’t pretend you didn’t know.
Bunty
I suppose one always knows—really.
Nicky
From the very first moment.
Bunty
Yes.
Nicky
A sort of spark.
Bunty
Your playing helped a lot.
Nicky
I meant it to.
Bunty
Calculating pig.
Nicky
Have a cigarette?
Bunty
All right.
[He hands her box, and she takes one.]
Nicky
[Lighting her cigarette]
I wish we weren’t so free.
Bunty
Why? What do you mean?
Nicky
I feel I should like to elope, or something violently romantic like that.
Bunty
[Laughing]
There wouldn’t be much point in it now, would there?
Nicky
Perhaps not. How much do you love me?
Bunty
I don’t know.
Nicky
It’s fun analyzing one’s emotions.
Bunty
Marvelous fun.
Nicky
And a comfort, too, when things go wrong—but it kills sentiment stone dead.
Bunty
A good job, too.
Nicky
You’re frightfully hard, Bunty.
Bunty
Am I?
Nicky
Much harder than me—really.
Bunty
You’ve got so much hysteria.
Nicky
I can’t help it.
Bunty
Of course not; it’s your temperament. You burst out suddenly.
Nicky
Not so badly as I used to.
Bunty
You’re growing older.
Nicky
God, yes! Isn’t it foul?
Bunty
Hell, my dear.
Nicky
It’s funny how mother’s generation always longed to be old when they were young, and we strain every nerve to keep young.
Bunty
That’s because we see what’s coming so much more clearly.
Nicky
Wouldn’t it be terrible to know exactly?—I feel frightened sometimes.
Bunty
Why?
Nicky
We’re all so hectic and nervy....
Bunty
It doesn’t matter—it probably only means we shan’t live so long....
Nicky
[Suddenly]
Shut up—shut up....
[Enter Preston.]
Preston
[Announcing]
Mr. Veryan.
[Enter Tom. Nicky greets him and shakes hands. Exit Preston.]
Nicky
How are you? I’m Nicky—I came over to-day instead of to-morrow....
Tom
Oh!
Nicky
Do you know Bunty Mainwaring?
Tom
Bunty—I say—I am glad.
[They shake hands warmly.]
Nicky
We’d better have some cocktails.
[He goes to the door and shouts.]
Preston ... bring us some cocktails....
Tom
This is jolly. I didn’t know what had become of you.
Bunty
I’ve been living in Paris a good deal.
Tom
How many years ago is it since we?...
Bunty
During the War. The last time I saw you you were at Sandhurst.
Nicky
Such a pretty place.
Tom
You’ve hardly altered a bit—more grown up, of course.
Nicky
All this is most affecting.
Tom
Bunty and I used to know each other awfully well.
Nicky
What fun!
Bunty
[Warningly]
Nicky....
Nicky
But it is—it’s thrilling—there’s nothing so charming as a reunion.
Bunty
Nicky and I have been traveling all day.... Boats and trains get on his nerves....
Nicky
When the cocktails come, tell Preston to bring mine to me in father’s room.
Bunty
Nicky, don’t be so silly.
Nicky
Surely it’s not silly to want to talk to my aged father after a year’s debauch in Paris? I fail to see why you should have the monopoly of reunions.
Bunty
Well, don’t be long.
Tom
Cheerio!
Nicky
[Crossly]
Oh, God!
[He goes out.]
Tom
What’s up?
Bunty
These temperamental musicians.
Tom
Silly ass.
Bunty
He isn’t really—he’s only jealous.
Tom
Why ... is he?...
Bunty
We’re by way of being engaged.
Tom
What?
Bunty
Why not?
Tom
Are you ... are you in love with him?
Bunty
[Lightly]
Yes—isn’t it damnable?
Tom
Good Lord!
[He laughs.]
Bunty
What are you laughing at?
Tom
It seems so funny you being in love with that sort of chap.
Bunty
What do you mean by “that sort of chap”?
Tom
Oh—I don’t know, that type seems so unlike you.
Bunty
Type?
Tom
Yes, you know—up in the air—effeminate.
Bunty
You’re more bucolic than you used to be, Tom.
Tom
Here, I say....
[Enter Preston with cocktails.]
Bunty
Will you please take Mr. Nicky’s in to him in his father’s room?
Preston
Yes, miss.
Tom
Is Mrs. Lancaster nearly ready?
Preston
I think so, sir.
Tom
Ask her to hurry. We shall be late.
Preston
Yes, sir.
[He goes out.]
Bunty
I can laugh now.
[She does so.]
Tom
Why?
Bunty
I’ve just realized something.
Tom
What?
Bunty
We shall meet again—over the week-end.
Tom
Are you coming down to the house?
Bunty
Yes.
Tom
That’s splendid. Come for a tramp Sunday morning and we’ll talk.
Bunty
What about?
Tom
Oh, lots of things—old times.
Bunty
[Lifting her cocktail]
Old times, Tom.
Tom
[Doing the same]
Cheerio!
Curtain
ACT II