by Unknown
PAUL. You say this — you who have done so much for me.
MRS. OMMANEY. The conditions have changed. I would never have troubled you again had you not married, I swore it. But you have broken your promise.
PAUL. I have broken it, but — surely that is a little thing to you now.
MRS. OMMANEY. A little thing! It was everything to me, it gave me a kind of self-respect as I sat dressmaking once more, it was an excuse to my conscience for calling myself a married woman. I could exult in your growing fame, because of it; it made me a part of that fame, for in leaving you I had done something to make you ambitious again. Often I have stood outside your studio with my child in my arms and I have whispered to her proudly, ‘But he never took up with another woman.’ She was to be your only child. Was there nothing to me in that?
PAUL. I deserve no mercy — but Margaret?
MRS OMMANEY. How much pity had she for me? (LOVINGLY)
Paul, it is not much to ask. Give me something to live for.
PAUL. It can’t be.
(SHE RISES, LOOKING DETERMINED. ENTER LADY JANET.)
LADY JANET. Mr. Digby, Margaret is coming back! I saw her carriage in the bend of the road.
MRS. OMMANEY (EXULTINGLY). Coming back! She is coming back to be told all. Innocent little Margaret! Thinks her spotless husband is staying too long! Sisterly little Margaret, who was so anxious to be my friend; merciless little Margaret!
(TURNING TO PAUL) Do you still refuse?
PAUL. Yes.
LADY JANET. Mr. Digby, you can refuse nothing! What did she ask?
PAUL. That I should — it amounts to this, that I should have two homes.
LADY JANET. Woman! She was good to you — kind —
MRS. OMMANEY. Till she knew what I was, till she knew I needed kindness, and then she ran from me — did she not?
PAUL. She was appalled; it seemed too awful to her; she could say nothing, do nothing.
MRS. OMMANEY. She has found the words now, and is coming back to cast them at me.
LADY JANET. There must be some other way. Mrs. Ommaney, I am wealthier than he. I will give you thousands; I will beggar myself.
MRS. OMMANEY. No, no, no.
PAUL. Kate!
MRS. OMMANEY. Choose!
LADY JANET. She is here!
MRS. OMMANEY. Which is it to be. (TO PAUL.)
PAUL (PASSIONATELY). Leave it to me to tell her.
MRS. OMMANEY. No.
LADY JANET (BROKEN). She is here!
MRS. OMMANEY. She has come back for my wedding gift. It is at hand, and ready I (EXIT MRS. OMMANEY INTO BEDROOM, WHICH IS IN DARKNESS.)
PAUL (to LADY JANET, whose face asks question). She means the child.
(THERE IS A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.)
LADY JANET. God forgive me, but — can you not temporise? In time she —
PAUL. No.
LADY JANET. For Margaret’s sake — yes!
PAUL. For Margaret’s honour — no!
(Enter MARGARET.)
MARGARET (speaking eagerly as she enters). Is she better?
PAUL. Yes.
MARGARET (LOOKING ABOUT HER). Auntie, she has not gone?
LADY JANET. No.
MARGARET. I am so glad I am in time.
LADY JANET. Margaret, come away! This is no place for you.
MARGARET. Auntie, she is a woman, and so am I. She is in distress and I can help her. This is the place for me.
PAUL. Why did you come back?
MARGARET. Because of that; because I saw how cruel, how unwomanly I had been. How sweet she was when she sat on the sofa telling us her pitiful story, what a baby I was to run from her! Aunt Janet, if I had been in her place — if I had loved a villain, oh, I don’t know what I might have fallen to. If she had been in mine, if she had loved a man like Paul —
LADY JANET. There are only good women and bad.
MARGARET. I had always thought so, but her story has lifted a veil from the eyes of an ignorant girl. Good women and bad! I became a woman when I saw how much they have in common. Where is she?
(mrs ommaney COMES OUT; HER face is UNFATHOMABLE.)
MRS OMMANEY. I am here.
MARGARET. Mrs. Ommaney, can you forgive me?
MRS. OMMANEY. I have heard every word you said.
MARGARET. Were they driving you away? — they shan’t. Auntie, how dare you! Paul, Mrs. Ommaney is my friend.
(SHE PUTS HER ARM ROUND MRS. OMMANEY, AND STANDS LIKE ONE DEFENDING HER.)
LADY JANET. Margaret, you must not —
MARGARET. Auntie, you are on the side of the men; so was I. I am on the side of my sisters now.
LADY JANET (APPEALINGLY). Mr. Digby!
(PAUL TAKES A STEP FORWARD.)
MARGARET. Not my husband himself shall take my arm from her.
PAUL (TO MRS. OMMANEY). Speak — and quickly.
MRS. OMMANEY (QUIETLY TO MARGARET, AFTER LOOKING AT PAUL). I have a wedding present — I should like to give you.
LADY JANET. Woman!
MRS. OMMANEY. It is this — my locket.
(PAUL AND LADY JANET START.)
It was something else I meant to give you, but you will like this better. As you know, his face was in it, but it has been taken out. So perhaps you will not object. I hope your husband will not object to your having it from me. You sweet girl, you and I shall never meet again, but I should like to think that you had put your husband’s face in it instead of the face that used to be there and wore it sometimes in memory of a good woman’s victory over a bad one.
(MARGARET kisses locket.)
It will remind you, Mr. Digby, of what was the great event in the life of a woman — and a little episode in the life of a man.
MARGARET. We shall meet again and often.
MRS. OMMANEY. Never! I want you all to go away now.
(TO PAUL) May I kiss her?
(PAUL is too affected to speak, MARGARET kisses her.)
Take her away.
PAUL. What are you to do?
MRS. OMMANEY. Work and forget — if I can. Go!
(She sits down a forlorn figure, LADY JANET signs to MARGARET and they go towards door; PAUL follows a step, and stops, looking in agitation at MRS. OMMANEY.)
LADY JANET. Come!
(PAUL stands looking and LADY JANET grows anxious.)
Come, I command you.
PAUL (HUSKILY). I can’t come.
MARGARET. Paul, why?
PAUL. Because I believe in God, and I hear Him calling to me to speak. Margaret, it was I who did this thing. I am the man!
(mrs ommaney STARTS UP. MARGARET LOOKS FROM ONE TO THE OTHER, DAZED.’ MARGARET (AFTER A PAUSE). Paul, did you say anything?
PAUL. I am the man.
MARGARET (after pause, with growing enlightenment). Mrs. Ommaney, Aunt Janet, he did not say it? (Imploringly)
Speak!
LADY JANET. My dear, my dear!
(MARGARET turns from her to PAUL; she points to bedroom door.)
PAUL. It is my child.
(MARGARET REELS, BUT LADY JANET CATCHES HER.)
LADY JANET. You are still his wife.
MARGARET. His wife! Oh, dear God, what have I done that you let me marry this man!
PAUL (WITH A CRY OF AGONY). Margaret!
MARGARET. A betrayer of women, he is my husband! Oh, sir, must I thank you for that? I loved you, and yet you married me. You might have dealt with me as you have dealt with her. I thank you.
MRS. OMMANEY. Hear me!
MARGARET (VEHEMENTLY). You, you! It is such women as you. No, I beg your pardon. This man, I took him from you; I did not understand; he is yours, yours and your child’s.
(Slowly takes off ring, and hands it to MRS. OMMANEY.
PAUL takes a step towards her — she recoils.)
Aunt Janet, I am going back to my father.
(She goes away quietly, LADY JANET slowly follows her; the outer door is heard opening and shutting.)
MRS. OMMANEY. Why did you tell?
/> PAUL (huskily). I am glad I told.
MRS. OMMANEY (in a whisper — a wild hope springing into her face). Paul!
(He shudders and avoids her, her head droops; she hands him the ring, it remains in his fingers a moment, then he lets it drop. It is heard striking the floor.)
ACT IV
The scene is the same as Act I. It is evening and the lamps are lit. The curtain rises on Mr. Fairbairn in evening dress and Mr. Gibson in clerical dress playing at draughts at a small table. Meikle is packing up presents and putting them into a hamper. The players are absorbed in their game. Mr. Gibson’s eyes are almost shut as he peers at the board. He is as anxious as if he were preaching his trial sermon. Mr. Fairbairn is cool and deliberate. Mr. Fairbairn moves emphatically and sits back. Mr. Gibson moves cunningly and slowly, then sits expectantly. Mr. Fairbairn moves and then Mr. Gibson moves quickly and triumphantly. He tries politely to conceal his glory but his face is wreathed in smiles. He sits back, with legs over arm of chair, and casts triumphant side looks at Mr. Fairbairn. Mr. Fairbairn realises that he is in difficulties and ponders, frowning, half moves, when Mr. Gibson whips round to play. Mr. Fairbairn glares at him. Mr. Gibson sits back abashed. Meikle comes to back of table and looks on. Mr. Gibson does not see him. Meikle signs the best move to Mr. Fairbairn, who plays it. Meikle goes back. Mr. Gibson is to play triumphantly, when he finds that he has been checked. The triumph goes from his face. He does not know what to do; he puffs up his cheeks with wind while Mr. Fairbairn lolls back elated. Mr. Gibson lifts his opponent’s King to play.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Excuse me, that’s my King you are lifting.
MR. GIBSON. I beg your pardon. (PAUSES — HE SEES A GOOD MOVE — LIFTS SAME KING.)
MR. FAIRBAIRN. That’s my King again.
MR. GIBSON. Dear me! Dear me!
(MR. GIBSON moves doubtfully, MR. FAIRBAIRN replies boldly. MR. GIBSON moves again anxiously, evidently digging a pit for his opponent, MR. FAIRBAIRN replies emphatically, evidently thinking that it is he who is digging the pit. MR. GIBSON makes a sly move. MR. FAIRBAIRN jumps a man, and looks jubilant. MR. GIBSON gloriously jumps three men, and sits back with delight, MR. FAIRBAIRN is aghast, and loses his temper.)
MR. FAIRBAIRN. I decline to play it out.
MR. GIBSON. Too bad! too bad! Every time I beat you we have this scene.
MR FAIRBAIRN. You beat me!
MR. GIBSON. Fairbairn, I will never play with you again.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Who wants you to? Do you think I’m afraid you would beat me?
MR. GIBSON. If you are not afraid, why don’t you play it out?
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Who’s afraid to play it out?
MR. GIBSON. YOU are afraid to play it out.
MR. fairbairn. I will PLAY it out.
MR. GIBSON. Then why don’t you play it out?
MR. FAIRBAIRN. I tell you what, Gibson —
(MEIKLE, who has been looking at them, now comes down and lifts draught-board, and exit with it.)
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Meikle, how dare you!
MR. GIBSON. Meikle, bring back that board!
(They sit cowed and sullen.)
MR. GIBSON (rising, shortly). Good night, Fairbairn.
MR. FAIRBAIRN (without looking round). Good night.
(MR. GIBSON is going, when he is arrested by the entrance of MEIKLE, carrying a tray, with wine, MEIKLE puts it on table and busies himself at another table, opening cigarbox. MR. GIBSON stands looking at tray like one in a dream. MR. FAIRBAIRN turns pettishly and sees tray. Their passions die away as they look at it.)
MR. FAIRBAIRN. A glass of port, Gibson, to drink the health of the happy couple.
MR. GIBSON. Thank you, Fairbairn. (SITS.) Half a glass.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Say ‘when.’ (He half fills glass, looks up, pours in more, looks up, but MR. GIBSON is so busy wiping his spectacles that he does not notice.)
MR. GIBSON (hurriedly, when glass is full). Stop!
(They are about to drink.)
Before we drink their health, Fairbairn, I want to apologise for my unseemly warmth just now. It was all my fault. I behaved like a donkey.
MR. FAIRBAIRN (GENIALLY). Not at all! The blame is mine; it was I who behaved like a donkey.
MR. GIBSON. Excuse me, Fairbairn, I was the donkey.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Come, come, I insist on taking the biame.
MR. GIBSON (A LITTLE IRRITABLY). Surely, Fairbairn, when I say it was I —— ——
MR. FAIRBAIRN. I tell you, you behaved splendidly.
MR. GIBSON. Now, we must have this matter cleared up. I was the donkey.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. I tell you I was.
MR. GIBSON. You were not.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. I was.
MR. GIBSON. Fairbairn, I will never drink a glass of wine with you again.
(MEIKLE offers cigarbox; he takes cigar, still fuming, and bites off end.)
MR. FAIRBAIRN. As you please, for I venture to say —
(MEIKLE offers box mr fairbairn takes cigar and bites off end MEIKLE offers light.)
MR. GIBSON. Of all the obstinate —
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Of all the thick-headed —
(MEIKLE gives him light. They smoke contentedly and their passions vanish, while MEIKLE returns to hamper.)
Gibson, your health. (He drinks.)
MR. GIBSON. Thank you, Fairbairn, your health! (HE DRINKS.) God bless you, Fairbairn.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. God bless you, Gibson.
(They shake hands across table, MEIKLE, who has lifted hamper to carry it out, smiles tolerantly on them. They turn and look at him. Exit MEIKLE, sedately, with hamper.)
An impudent fellow!
MR. GIBSON. A very impudent fellow!
MR. FAIRBAIRN. I brought Margaret up wisely, Gibson — eh? Janet thought I kept her a child too long, but see how splendidly it has turned out. Don’t look for troubles and you won’t find them. If they are in front of you, walk round.
MR. GIBSON (HOLDING UP GLASS). Mr and Mrs. Digby!
MR. FAIRBAIRN. May they always be as happy as they are at this moment.
MR. GIBSON. Billing and cooing, sir, billing and cooing.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. That’s it!
(ENTER MEIKLE.)
MEIKLE. Lady Janet Dunwoodie.
(THEY START UP IN SURPRISE. ENTER LADY JANET, AND MEIKLE WITHDRAWS AFTER LOOKING UNEASILY AT HER.)
MR. FAIRBAIRN. You, Janet, come back!
LADY JANET. I changed my mind, you see. Took pity on your loneliness.
MR GIBSON (not quite believing her). Bravo! When you came in, Lady Janet, we were just on the point of —
LADY JANET. Saying good night? So sorry, Mr. Gibson, but it is getting late, so I won’t press you to stay. (RINGS) Give my love to Nellie. I hope she likes this hot weather.
MR. GIBSON. She likes it very much, but it does not like her. And, I fear —
LADY JANET. There, there, what a hurry you are in to be off. But good night, if you must go.
MR. GIBSON (MEEKLY). Good night, Fairbairn.
MR. FAIRBAIRN. Good night.
(Exit MR. GIBSON perturbed and fearing that something is wrong.)
MR. FAIRBAIRN (UNEASILY, BUT PERSUADING HIMSELF THAT EVERYTHING IS WELL). We have been drinking their health, you know — the happy couple.
LADY JANET. Alec, the happy couple have separated, Margaret has come back to you.
MR. FAIRBAIRN (BEWILDERED). Here, Margaret! Separated! What do you mean?
LADY JANET. You had better ask her. You will find her in her old room. She went up the back staircase to avoid Mr. Gibson.
MR. FAIRBAIRN (still bewildered, but in great anxiety). But — but — where is her husband?
(Enter MEIKLE, who comes to table to remove wine, etc.
MR. FAIRBAIRN signs to LADY JANET to conceal what has happened from MEIKLE and exits, LADY JANET stands watching MEIKLE, who takes anxious side-glances at her.)
