Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honour

by W. Somerset Maugham

Basil.

[Laughing.] Are there no more questions you want to ask me, Mrs. Halliwell?

Mabel.

Yes, I want to know why you live up six flights of stairs.

Basil.

[Amused.] For the view, simply and solely.

Mabel.

But, good heavens, there is no view. There are only chimney-pots.

Basil.

But they're most æsthetic chimney-pots. Do come and look, Mrs. Murray. [Basil and Hilda approach one of the windows, and he opens it.] And at night they're so mysterious. They look just like strange goblins playing on the house-tops. And you can't think how gorgeous the sunsets are: sometimes, after the rain, the slate roofs glitter like burnished gold. [To Hilda.] Often I think I couldn't have lived without my view, it says such wonderful things to me. [Turning to Mabel gaily.] Scoff, Mrs. Halliwell, I'm on the verge of being sentimental.