Penelope: A Comedy in Three Acts

by W. Somerset Maugham

Dickie.

Well, I think I will if you don’t mind. [He pours himself out a glass.] I have an idea that sherry’s coming into fashion again.

Mrs. Fergusson.

Have you?

Dickie.

I always think I have a knack of making myself pleasant under difficulties.

[He drinks a glass of sherry to give himself courage.

Dickie.

Look here, I’ve got something to tell you that I’m afraid you won’t very much like. I daresay you’ll think me an awful brute, but I’m bound to say it. [Mrs. Fergusson does not answer, and after a moment’s pause he goes on.] The fact is, I’m not built the proper way for intrigue. All these lies make me awfully uncomfortable. I don’t like to think I’m treating Penelope badly. [Another pause.] I may as well tell you the whole truth bang out. I’ve discovered that I’m desperately in love with Penelope.

Mrs. Fergusson.