I planned this trip with just one crazy thought—
To look upon that strange girl’s face once more.
That is the luny project which has brought
The four of us to this idyllic shore.
[Laughs and lights a cigar.]
My scheme was worked with such consummate care
That mother thinks she planned the whole affair.
Then she invited Ethel as her guest.
[Silence for a moment.]
Well, sometimes mothers know just what is best
For wayward sons.
And yet, and yet, and yet,
Why is it one girl’s face I can’t forget?
Why is it that I feel despondent hearted
In missing that fool hope for which I started?
Four thousand miles is something of a chase
To run to cover one elusive face
And then to fail.
[Reverie. A chant is heard outside. The man listens. The chant ceases and then a maiden slowly approaches calling out her flower wares, which she carries in a basket; she wears several lais herself, on hat and neck. She does not observe the man at first.]
Flower Girl (calls in a musical voice)
Lais, lais, royal lais, beautiful flowers in bloom;
Colours of splendour, fragrance so tender,
Blossoms to brighten your room;
Lais, lais, royal lais, who buys—
Ralph (leans forward and says aside)