_The curtain rises on_ MARGARET’S _drawing-room. It is prettily
furnished in a gentle, white-walled, water-colour-in-gold-frame
fashion, and is full of flowers. In one corner is a parrot in a
cage, and near it_ MISS FAIRFIELD’S _arm-chair and foot-stool and
work-table. The fire-place has a white sheepskin in front of it,
and brass fire-irons: on the mantel-piece is a gilt clock and many
photographs. At right angles to the fire a low empire couch runs
out into the room. There is a hint of_ SYDNEY _in the ultra-modern
cushionry with which it is piled. As the curtain goes up_ BASSETT
_is showing in_ GRAY MEREDITH.
BASSETT. They’re still at lunch, Sir.
GRAY. [_Glancing at the clock_] They’re late.
BASSETT. It’s the visitor, Sir. He’s kept them talking.
GRAY. Visitor?
BASSETT. Yes, Sir, a strange gentleman. Will you take coffee, Sir?
GRAY. I may as well go in and have it with them.
BASSETT. The mistress said, would you not, Sir. She’d come to you.
GRAY. [_A little surprised_] Oh, very well.
BASSETT. I’ll tell Miss Sydney you’ve come, Sir.
GRAY. [_Lifting his eyebrows_] Tell Mrs. Fairfield.
BASSETT. Miss Sydney said I was to tell her too, Sir, quietly.
GRAY. [_Puzzled_] Is--? [_He checks an impulse to question the servant_]
All right!
BASSETT. Thank you, Sir.
_She goes out, leaving the door open. There is a slight pause._
MARGARET _comes in hurriedly, shutting the door behind her_.
GRAY. [_Smiling_] Well, what’s the mystery?
MARGARET. Gray, he’s come back!
GRAY. Who?
MARGARET. Hilary!
GRAY. [_Lightly_] Hilary? What Hilary? _Hilary!_
MARGARET. Yes.
GRAY. Good God!
MARGARET. He got away. He came straight here. I found him with Sydney.
GRAY. Don’t be frightened. I’m here. Is he dangerous?
MARGARET. No, no, poor fellow!
GRAY. You can’t be sure. Anyway, I’d better take charge of him while you
phone the asylum. No, that won’t do, there are no trains. We must ring
up the authorities.
MARGARET. Oh, no, Gray!
GRAY. It’s not pleasant, but it’s the only thing to do.
MARGARET. You don’t understand.
GRAY. There’s only one way to deal with an escaped lunatic.
MARGARET. But he’s not. He’s well.
GRAY. What’s that?
MARGARET. He’s well. He knows me. He--
GRAY. I don’t believe it.
MARGARET. Do you think I want to believe it? Oh, what a ghastly thing to
say!
GRAY. This has nothing to do with you. He has nothing to do with you.
Leave me to deal with him. [_He goes towards the door._]
MARGARET. Where are you going?
GRAY. ’Phoning for Dr. Alliot to begin with.
MARGARET. Sydney’s done that already.
GRAY. Sydney’s head’s on her shoulders.
MARGARET. He’ll be here as soon as he can. He could always manage
Hilary.
GRAY. You’d better go up to your room.
MARGARET. No.
GRAY. Don’t take it too hard. It’ll be over in an hour. We’ll get him
away quietly, poor devil.
MARGARET. But it’s no good, Gray, he’s well. We’ve been on to the asylum
already. They say we should have heard in a day or two even if he hadn’t
got away.
GRAY. Really well?
MARGARET. The old Hilary--voice and ways and--oh, my God! what am I to
do?
GRAY. Do? You?
MARGARET. Don’t you see, he knows nothing? His hair’s grey and he talks
as he talked at twenty. It’s horrible.
GRAY. What do you mean, he knows nothing?
MARGARET. About the divorce. About you and me. He thinks it’s all--as he
left it.
GRAY. [_Incredulously_] You’ve said nothing?
MARGARET. He’s like a lost child come home. Do you think I want to send
him crazy again? He--
GRAY. [_With a certain anger_] You’ve said nothing?
MARGARET. Not yet.
GRAY. You’ll come away with me at once.
MARGARET. I can’t. I’ve got to think of Hilary.
GRAY. You’ve got to think of me.
MARGARET. I _am_ you. But I’ve done him so much injury--
GRAY. _You’ve_ done Fairfield injury? You little saint!
MARGARET. Saint? I’m a wicked woman. I’m wishing he hadn’t got well. I’m
wishing the doctors will say it’s not true. In my wicked heart I’m
calling down desolation on my own husband.
GRAY. You have no husband. You’re marrying me in a week. You’re mine.
MARGARET. I’m afraid--
GRAY. Whose are you? Answer me.
MARGARET. Yours.
GRAY. You know it?
MARGARET. I know it.
GRAY. Then never be afraid again.
MARGARET. No, not when you’re here. I’m not afraid when you’re here. But
I must be good to Hilary. You see that?
GRAY. What good is “good” to him, poor devil?
MARGARET. At least I’ll break it gently.
GRAY. Gently? That’s just like a woman. All you can do for him is to
come away now.
MARGARET. How can I? He’s got to be told.
GRAY. Then let me tell him.
MARGARET. No, no! From you, just from you, it would be wanton. I won’t
have cruelty.
GRAY. We’ll go straight up to town and get married at once. That’ll
settle everything.
MARGARET. You mustn’t rush me. I’ve got to do what’s right.
GRAY. It is right. There’s nothing else to be done. You can’t stay here.
MARGARET. No, I can’t stay here. Don’t let me stay here.
GRAY. Come with me. The car’s outside. You say Alliot will be here in
ten minutes. Leave him a note. He’s an old friend as well as a doctor.
Let him deal with it if you won’t let me.
MARGARET. Oh, can’t you see that I must tell Hilary myself?
GRAY. [_Angrily_] Women are incomprehensible!
MARGARET. It’s men who are uncomprehending. Can’t you feel that it’ll
hurt him less from me?
GRAY. It’ll hurt him ten thousand times more.
MARGARET. But differently. It’s the things one might have said that
fester. At least I’ll spare him that torment. He shall say all he wants
to say.
GRAY. [_Blackly_] I suppose the truth is that there’s something in the
very best of women that enjoys a scene.
MARGARET. That’s the first bitter thing you’ve ever said to me.
GRAY. [_Breaking out_] Can’t you see what it does to me to know you are
in the same house with him? For God’s sake come out of it!
MARGARET. [_Close to him_] I want to come, now, this moment. I want to
be forced to come.
GRAY. That settles it.
MARGARET. [_Eluding him_] But I mustn’t! Don’t you see that I mustn’t? I
can’t leave Sydney to lay my past for me.
GRAY. Your past is dead.
MARGARET. Its ghost’s awake and walking.
HILARY’S VOICE. Meg! Meg!
MARGARET. [_Clinging to him_] Listen, it’s calling to me.
HILARY’S VOICE. Meg, where are you?
MARGARET. It’s too late! I’m too old! I shall never get away from him. I
told you it was too good to be true.
GRAY. [_Deliberately matter-of-fact_] Listen to me! I am going home now.
There are orders to be given. I must get some money and papers. But I
shall be back here in an hour. I give you just that hour to tell him
what you choose. After that you’ll be ready to come.
MARGARET. If--if I’ve managed--
GRAY. There’s no if. You’re coming.
MARGARET. Am I coming, Gray?
HILARY. [_Entering from the hall]_ Meg, Sydney said you’d gone to your
room. Hullo! What’s this? Who’s this? Doctor, eh? I’ve been expecting
them down on me. [_To_ GRAY] It’s no good, you know. I’m as fit as you
are. Any test you like.
MARGARET. Mr. Meredith called to see me, Hilary! He’s just going.
HILARY. Oh, sorry! [_He walks to the fire and stands warming his hands,
but watching them over his shoulder._]
GRAY. [_At the door, in a low voice to_ MARGARET] I don’t like leaving
you.
MARGARET. You must! It’s better! But--come back quickly!
GRAY. You’ll be ready?
MARGARET. I will. [GRAY _goes out_.]
HILARY. [_Uneasily_] Who’s that man?
MARGARET. His name’s Gray Meredith.
HILARY. What’s he doing here?
MARGARET. He’s an old friend.
HILARY. I don’t know him, do I?
MARGARET. It’s since you were ill. It’s the last five years.
HILARY. He’s in love with you! I tell you, the man’s in love with you!
Do you think I’m so dazed and crazed I can’t see that? You shouldn’t let
him, Meg! You’re such a child you don’t know what you’re doing when you
look and smile--
MARGARET. [_In a strained voice_] I do know. [_She stands quite still in
the middle of the room, her head lifted, a beautiful woman._]
HILARY. [_Staring at her_] Lord, I don’t wonder at him, poor brute!
[_Still staring_] Meg, you’ve changed.
MARGARET. [_Catching at the opening_] Yes, Hilary.
HILARY. Taller, more beautiful--and yet I miss something.
MARGARET. [_Urging him on_] Yes, Hilary.
HILARY. [_Wistfully_]--something you used to have--kind--a kind way with
you. The child’s got it. Sydney--my daughter, Sydney! She’s more you
than you are. You--you’ve grown right up--away--beyond me--haven’t you?
MARGARET. Yes, Hilary.
HILARY. But I’m going to catch up. You’ll help me to catch up with
you--Meg? [_She doesn’t answer._] Meg! wait for me! Meg, where are you?
Why don’t you hold out your hands?
MARGARET. [_Wrung for him_] I can’t, Hilary! My hands are full.
HILARY. [_His tone lightening into relief_] What, Sydney? She’ll be off
in no time. She’s told me about the boy--what’s his name--Kit--already.
MARGARET. It’s not Sydney.
HILARY. What? [_Crescendo_] Eh? What are you driving at? What are you
trying to tell me? What’s changed you? Why do you look at me sideways?
Why do you flinch when I speak loudly? Yes--and when I kissed you--It’s
that man! [_He goes up to her and takes her by the wrist, staring into
her face._] Is it true? You?
MARGARET. [_Pitifully_] I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m trying to tell you.
I only want to tell you and make you understand. Hilary, fifteen years
is a long time--
HILARY. [_Dully_] Yes. I suppose it’s a long time for a woman to be
faithful.
MARGARET. That’s it! That’s the whole thing! If I’d loved you it
wouldn’t have been long--
HILARY. [_Violently, crying her down_] You did love me once.
MARGARET. [_Beaten_] Did I--once? I don’t know--
_There is a silence._
HILARY. [_Without expression_] What do you expect me to do? Forgive you?
MARGARET. [_Stung_] There’s nothing to forgive. [_Softening_] Oh, so
much, Hilary, to forgive each other; but not that.
HILARY. [_More and more roughly as he loses control of himself_]
Divorce you then? Because I’ll not do that! I’ll have no dirty linen
washed in the courts.
MARGARET. [_Forced into the open_] Hilary, I divorced you twelve months
ago.
HILARY. [_Shouting_] What? What? What?
MARGARET. I divorced you--
HILARY. [_Beside himself_] You’re mad! You couldn’t do it! You’d no
cause! D’you think I’m to be put off with your lies? Am I a child? You’d
no cause! Oh, I see what you’re at. You want to confuse me. You want to
pull wool over my eyes. You want to drive me off my head--drive me mad
again. You devil! You devil! You shan’t do it. I’ve got friends--Sydney!
where’s that girl [_Shouting_] Sydney! Hester! All of you! Come here!
Come here, I say! [SYDNEY _opens the drawing room door_.]
SYDNEY. Mother, what is it? [_She enters, followed by_ MISS FAIRFIELD.
_To_ HILARY--] What are you doing? You’re frightening her.
HILARY. [_Wildly_] No, no! You’re not on her side. You’re little
Sydney--kind--my Sydney! What did you say--go slow, eh! Keep your hand
here--cool, cool. [_Then as_ SYDNEY, _breaking from him, makes a
movement to her mother_] Stand away from that woman!
MARGARET. Sydney, humour him.
HILARY. [_At white heat_] What was I calling you for, eh? Oh, yes, a
riddle. I’ve got a riddle for you. There was a man at that place--used
to ask riddles--the moon told ’em to him. Just such a white face
whispering out of the blue--lies! He couldn’t find the answers--sent him
off his head. But I know the answer. When’s a wife not a wife, eh? Want
to know the answer? [_Pointing to_ MARGARET] When she’s
_this--this--this_! [_Confidentially_] She’s poisoning me.
MISS FAIRFIELD. Now, Hilary! Hilary!--
HILARY. Sydney, come here! I’ll tell _you_. [SYDNEY _stands torn between
the two_.]
MISS FAIRFIELD. What have you done to him, Margaret?
MARGARET. I’ve told him the truth.
MISS FAIRFIELD. God forgive you!
HILARY. [_Raving_] I tell you she’s pouring poison into my ear. You
remember that fellow in the play--and _his_ wife? That’s what she’s
done. If I told you what she said to me, you’d think I was mad. And
that’s what she wants you to think. She wants to get rid of me. She’s
got a tame cat about the place. I’m in the way. And so she comes to me,
d’you see, and tells me--what do you think? She says she’s not my wife.
What do you think of that?
MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Grimly_] You may well ask.
MARGARET. [_To_ SYDNEY] He won’t listen--
SYDNEY. Sit down, darling! You’re shaking.
MARGARET. He’s always had these rages. It’s my fault. I began at the
wrong end. Hilary--it’s not--I’m not what you think.
HILARY. Then what was that man doing in my house?
MARGARET. In a week I’m going to marry him.
HILARY. D’you hear her? To _me_ she says this! Is she mad or am I?
MARGARET. [_Desperately_] I tell you there’s been a law passed--
MISS FAIRFIELD. No need for him to know that now, Margaret!
SYDNEY. Of course he has to know.
MISS FAIRFIELD. Not now.
MARGARET. [_On the defensive_] I don’t know what you mean, Aunt Hester!
MISS FAIRFIELD. Let us rather thank God that he has come back in time.
MARGARET. [_Uneasy_] In time? In time?
MISS FAIRFIELD. To snatch a brand from the burning.
MARGARET. I’m a free woman. I’ve got my divorce.
MISS FAIRFIELD. Whom God hath joined let no man put asunder.
MARGARET. [_At bay_] I’m a free woman. I’m going to marry Gray Meredith.
This is a trap! Sydney!
MISS FAIRFIELD. Is this talk for a young girl to hear?
MARGARET. Sydney, you’re to fetch Gray.
HILARY. [_With weak violence_] If he comes here I’ll kill him.
MARGARET. [_Catching_ SYDNEY _back_] No, no! D’you hear him? What am I
to do?
SYDNEY. It’s all right, Mother! We’ll manage somehow.
BASSETT. [_Entering_] Dr. Alliot is in the hall, ma’am.
MARGARET. [_With a gasp of relief_] Ask him to come in here. At once.
_Dr. Alliot trots in. He is a pleasant, roundabout, clean little
old man, with a twinkling face and brisk chubby movements of the
hands. He is upright and his voice is strong. He wears his seventy
odd years like a good joke that he expects you to keep up, in spite
of the fact that he is really your own age and understands you
better than you do yourself. But behind his comfortable manner is a
hint of authority which has its effect, especially on_ HILARY.
DR. ALLIOT. What’s all this I hear? Well, well! Good afternoon, Mrs.
Fairfield! Good afternoon, Miss Fairfield! Merry Christmas, Sydney! Now
then, now for him! Welcome back, Fairfield! Welcome back, my boy!
HILARY. It’s--it’s old Alliot, isn’t it?
DR. ALLIOT. Your memory’s all right I see.
HILARY. I suppose they’ve sent for you--
DR. ALLIOT. Well, well, you see, you’ve arrived rather unconventionally.
I’ve been in touch with--
HILARY. That place?
DR. ALLIOT. Why, yes! You may have to go back, you know. Formalities!
Formalities!
HILARY. I don’t mind. I’m well. I’m well, Alliot! I’m not afraid of what
you’ll say. I’m not afraid of any of you.
DR. ALLIOT. Well, well, well! that sounds hopeful.
HILARY. But I can’t go yet, Doctor.
DR. ALLIOT. Only for a day or two.
HILARY. It’s my wife. I lost my temper. I do lose my temper. It means
nothing. Go slow, eh? My wife’s ill, Doctor. She’s not right in her
head.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Alert_] Ah!
HILARY. [_With a wave of his hand_] So are the rest of them. Mad as
hatters.
DR. ALLIOT. Hm!
HILARY. [_Checked, glances at him keenly a moment. Then chuckling_] Oh,
you’re thinking that’s a delusion.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Humouring him_] Between you and me, it’s a common one.
HILARY. [_Half flattered_] Ah, we know, don’t we? Served in the same
shop, eh? Only the counter between us.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Feeling his way_] Well, well--
HILARY. But look here! She says she’s not my wife.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Enlightened_] Oh! Oh, that’s the trouble!
HILARY. She says she’s not my wife.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Soberly_] It’s a hard case, Fairfield.
HILARY. What d’you mean by that?
DR. ALLIOT. It’s the old wisdom of the scape-goat--it is expedient--how
does it go? expedient--?
SYDNEY. “It is expedient that one man should die for the people.”
DR. ALLIOT. That’s it! A hard word, but a true one.
HILARY. What has that got to do with me?
DR. ALLIOT. Well, the situation is this--
HILARY. There is no situation. I married Meg. I fell ill. Now I’m well
again. I want my wife.
DR. ALLIOT. Why, yes--yes--
HILARY. [_Picking it up irritably_] “Yes--yes--” “Yes--yes--” I suppose
that’s what you call humouring a lunatic.
DR. ALLIOT. Why, I hope to be convinced, Fairfield, that that trouble’s
over, but--
HILARY. But you’re going to lock me up again because I want my wife.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Patiently_] Will you let me put the case to you?
HILARY. You can put fifty cases. It makes no difference.
SYDNEY. [_At his elbow, softly_] Father, I’d listen.
HILARY. [_Slipping his arm through hers_] Eh? Sydney? that you? You’re
not against me, Sydney?
SYDNEY. Nobody’s against you. We only want you to listen.
HILARY. Well, out with it!
DR. ALLIOT. D’you remember--can you throw your mind back to the
beginning of the agitation against the marriage laws? No, you were a
schoolboy--
HILARY. Deceased wife’s sister, eh? That’s the law that lets a man marry
his sister-in-law and won’t let a woman marry her brother-in-law. Pretty
good, that, for your side of the counter.
DR. ALLIOT. Well, well, that hardly matters now.
HILARY. It shows what your rotten, muddle-headed laws are worth, anyhow.
SYDNEY. Father.
HILARY. All right! Go ahead! Go ahead!
DR. ALLIOT. Well, as the result of that agitation--and remember, Hilary,
what thousand, thousand tragedies must have had voice in such an
outcry--a commission was appointed to enquire into the working of the
divorce laws. It made its report, recommended certain drastic reforms,
and there, I suppose, as is the way with commissions, would have been
the end of the subject, if it hadn’t been for the war--and the war
marriages.
HILARY. [_Lowering_] So that’s where I come in! Margaret, is that where
I come in?
DR. ALLIOT. Never, I suppose, in one decade were there so many young
marriages. Happy? that’s another thing! Marry in haste--
MARGARET. They weren’t all happy.
DR. ALLIOT. But they were _young_, those boys and girls who married. As
young as Kit, and as impatient as Sydney. And that saved them. That
young, young generation found out, out of their own unhappiness, the war
taught them, what peace couldn’t teach us--that when conditions are evil
it is not your duty to submit--that when conditions are evil, your duty,
in spite of protests, in spite of sentiment, your duty, though you
trample on the bodies of your nearest and dearest to do it, though you
bleed your own heart white, your duty is to see that those conditions
are changed. If your laws forbid you, you must change your laws. If your
church forbids you, you must change your church; and if your God forbids
you, why then, you must change your God.
MISS FAIRFIELD. And we who will not change?
MARGARET. Or cannot change--?
DR. ALLIOT. Stifle. Like a snake that can’t cast its skin. Grow or
perish--it’s the law of life. And so, when this young generation--yours,
not mine, Hilary--decided that the marriage laws were, I won’t say evil,
but outgrown, they set to work to change them.
MISS FAIRFIELD. You needn’t think it was without protest, Hilary. I
joined the anti-divorce league myself.
DR. ALLIOT. No, it wasn’t without protest. Mrs. Grundy and the churches
are protesting still. But in spite of protest, no man or woman to-day
is bound to a drunkard, an habitual criminal, or--
HILARY. Or--?
DR. ALLIOT. Or to a partner who, as far as we doctors know--
HILARY. But you can’t be sure!
DR. ALLIOT. I say as far as we know, is incurably insane--in practice,
is insane for more than five years.
HILARY. And if he recovers? Look at me!
DR. ALLIOT. [_With a sigh_] “It is expedient--”
HILARY. And you call that justice!
MARGARET. At least call it mercy. All the days of your life to stand at
the window, Hilary, and watch the sun shining on the other side of the
road--it’s hard, it’s hard on a woman.
DR. ALLIOT. At least call it common sense. If a man can’t live his
normal life, it’s as if he were dead. If he’s an incurable drunkard, if
he’s shut away for life in prison--
HILARY. But I’m not a drunkard. I’m not a convict. I’ve done nothing.
I’ve been to the war, to fight, for her, for all of you, for my country,
for this law-making machine that I’ve called my country. And when I’ve
got from it, not honourable scars, not medals and glory, but sixteen
years in hell, then when I get out again, then the country I’ve fought
for, the laws I’ve fought for, the woman I’ve fought for, they say to
me, “As you’ve done without her for fifteen years you can do without
her altogether.” That’s what it is. When I was helpless they conspired
behind my back to take away all I had from me. [_To_ MARGARET] Did I
ever hurt you? Didn’t I love you? Didn’t you love me? Could I help being
ill? What have I done?
SYDNEY. You died, Father.
MARGARET. Sydney, don’t be cruel.
MISS FAIRFIELD. Ah, we cry after the dead, but I’ve always wondered what
their welcome back would be.
HILARY. Well, you know now.
DR. ALLIOT. I don’t say it isn’t hard--
HILARY. Ah, you don’t say it isn’t hard. That’s good of you. That’s
sympathy indeed. And my wife--she’s full of it too, isn’t she? “Poor
dear! I was married to him once. I’d quite forgotten.”
MARGARET. For pity’s sake, Hilary!
DR. ALLIOT. Why, face it, man! One of you must suffer. Which is it to
be? The useful or the useless? the whole or the maimed? the healthy
woman with her life before her, or the man whose children ought never to
have been born?
HILARY. [_In terrible appeal_] Margaret!
SYDNEY. Is that true, Dr. Alliot? Is that true?
MARGARET. [_Her voice shaking_] I think you go too far.
DR. ALLIOT. Mrs. Fairfield, in this matter I cannot go too far.
MISS FAIRFIELD. For me, at any rate--too far and too fast altogether!
Before ladies! It’s not nice. It’s enough to call down a judgment.
BASSETT. [_Entering_] Mr. Pumphrey to see you, ma’am. [_To_ SYDNEY] And
Mr. Kit.
MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Justified_] Ah!
MARGARET. I can’t see anyone.
BASSETT. He said, ma’am, it was important.
HILARY. Who? Who?
MISS FAIRFIELD. The Rector. I expect he’s heard about you.
HILARY. I can’t see him. I won’t see him. Let me go. I’ve met the
Levites. Spare me the priest. [_He breaks away from them and goes
stumbling out at the other door._]
SYDNEY. [_Following him anxiously_] Father!
DR. ALLIOT. [_Preventing her_] No, no, my child! I’ll look after him.
[_He goes out quickly._]
_The_ RECTOR _is an insignificant man, with an important manner and
a plum in his mouth. He enters with_ KIT, _who is flushed and
perturbed_.
RECTOR. Ah, good afternoon, Mrs. Fairfield--Miss Fairfield--
MARGARET. [_Mechanically. She is very tired and inattentive_] A happy
Christmas, Mr. Pumphrey!
RECTOR. Ah! Just so! Christmas afternoon. An unusual day to call, Mrs.
Fairfield, and, I fear, an inconvenient hour--
MARGARET. Not at all, Mr. Pumphrey.
RECTOR. I can give myself [_he takes out his watch_] till three fifteen,
no longer. The children’s service is at three thirty.
MARGARET. [_Turning to the bell_] Mayn’t I order you an early cup of
tea?
RECTOR. Thank you, thank you, no. Busy as I am, I should not have
disturbed you--
MISS FAIRFIELD. Rector, it’s as if you had been sent!
RECTOR. Ah! gratifying! I did not see you at the morning service, Miss
Fairfield. But last night--_late_ last night--
MISS FAIRFIELD. [_With a look at_ SYDNEY] Three A.M., Rector?
RECTOR. Three fifteen, Miss Fairfield.
KIT. Look here, Father--
RECTOR. I received certain information from my son--
KIT. No, you don’t, Father. I’ll have my say first. It’s just this, Mrs.
Fairfield--
RECTOR. [_Fussed_] Christopher? Christopher?
KIT. [_He is very much in earnest and he addresses himself solely to_
MARGARET] I want you to know that it is nothing to do with me, Mrs.
Fairfield. I don’t agree with my father. [_Confidentially_] You wouldn’t
think it but I never do.
RECTOR. Christopher?
KIT. [_Ignoring him_] And it was only coming up the drive that he
sprung on me why he wanted to see you, or I wouldn’t have come--
MARGARET. [_Liking him_] I think Sydney would have been sorry, Kit.
KIT. [_With a touch of his father’s manner_] Yes, well, Sydney and I
have talked it over--and I know I’m going into the church myself--but I
think he’s all wrong, Mrs. Fairfield. [_Unconscious of plagiarism_] I’m
not nineteenth century. [_But_ SYDNEY _giggles_.]
MISS FAIRFIELD. Rector, what’s the matter with the young man?
KIT. [_Forging ahead_] You see, I’m pretty keen about Sydney, and so,
naturally, I’m pretty keen about you, Mrs. Fairfield.
RECTOR. Miss Fairfield, I’m without words.
KIT. [_Burdened_]--and I just wanted to tell you that I can’t tell you
what I think of my father over this business. It makes me wild.
SYDNEY. Kit, you’d better shut up.
KIT. [_Turning to_ SYDNEY] Well, I only wanted her to understand that
I’m not responsible for my father--that he’s not my own choice, if you
know what I mean. [_They talk aside._]
RECTOR. His mother’s right hand! I don’t know what’s come over him.
MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Grimly_] A pretty face, Rector!
RECTOR. Ah! the very point! I shall be glad to see you alone, Mrs.
Fairfield--not you, of course, Miss Fairfield, but--er-- [_He glances
at_ KIT _and_ SYDNEY.]
MARGARET. [_Resignedly_] Sydney, have you shown Kit all your presents?
SYDNEY. [_Reluctantly taking the hint, but continuing the conversation
as they go out_] What did you let him come for? Oh, you’re no good!
[_The door bangs behind them._]
MARGARET. [_Half smiling_] Well, Mr. Pumphrey, I suppose it’s about
Sydney and Kit?
RECTOR. Mrs. Fairfield, until last night we encouraged, we were
gratified--
MARGARET. Last night? Oh, the dance!
RECTOR. I sat up for my son until three fifteen of Christmas morning.
His excuse was your daughter--
MARGARET. [_With dignity_] Do you take objection to Sydney, Mr.
Pumphrey?
RECTOR. Now, my dear lady, you mustn’t misunderstand me--
MARGARET. [_Quietly_] To me, then?
RECTOR. Mrs. Fairfield, I beg--But in the course of a
slight--er--altercation between Christopher and myself it transpired--
MARGARET. [_She has been prepared for it_] I see, it’s her father--
RECTOR. I am grieved--grieved for you.
MARGARET. But his illness was no secret.
RECTOR. My heart, Mrs. Fairfield, and Mrs. Pumphrey’s heart has gone out
to you in your affliction. When the light of reason--
MARGARET. Then you did know. _Then_ I don’t follow.
RECTOR. But according to Christopher--
MARGARET. Well?
RECTOR. Mrs. Fairfield, is your husband alive or dead?
MARGARET. My former husband is alive.
RECTOR. [_With a half deprecatory, half triumphant gesture_] Out of your
own mouth, Mrs. Fairfield--
MARGARET. [_Bewildered_] But you say you knew he was insane?
RECTOR. But I didn’t know he was alive.
MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Irritated_] Don’t be so foolish, Margaret. It’s not
the insanity, it’s the divorce.
RECTOR. When I realised that I had been within a week of re-marrying a
divorced person--
MARGARET. [_Coldly_] Why didn’t you go to Mr. Meredith?
RECTOR. Mr. Meredith is--er--a difficult man to--er--approach. I felt
that an appeal to your feelings, as a Christian, as a mother--
MARGARET. You mean you’ll prevent Kit marrying Sydney--?
RECTOR. It depends on you, Mrs. Fairfield. I won’t let him marry the
child of a woman who remarries while her husband is alive.
MARGARET. But the church allows it?
MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Correcting her_] Winks at it, Margaret.
RECTOR. [_With dignity_] “Winks” is hardly the word--
MARGARET. Then what word would you use, Mr. Pumphrey?
RECTOR. I am not concerned with words.
MARGARET. But I want to know. I care about my church. It lets me and it
doesn’t let me--what does it mean?
RECTOR. [_Much moved_] I am not concerned with meanings, Mrs. Fairfield.
I am concerned with my own conscience.
MISS FAIRFIELD. Margaret--you’ve no business to upset the Rector. Why
don’t you tell him that the situation has changed?
MARGARET. Nothing has changed.
RECTOR. Changed?
MISS FAIRFIELD. My nephew has recovered--returned. He’s in the house
now.
RECTOR. Providence! It’s providence! [_With enthusiasm_] I never knew
anything like providence. Changed indeed, Miss Fairfield! My objection
goes. Dear little Sydney! Ah, Mrs. Fairfield, in a year you and your
husband will look back on this--episode as on a dream--a bad dream--
MARGARET. [_Stonily_] I have no husband.
RECTOR. Ah! the re-marriage--a mere formality--
MISS FAIRFIELD. Simpler still--the decree can be rescinded.
MARGARET. [_Stunned_] Aunt Hester, knowing his history, knowing mine, is
it possible that you expect me to go back to him?
MISS FAIRFIELD. He’s come back to you.
RECTOR. A wife’s duty--
MARGARET. [_Slowly_] I think you’re wicked. I think you’re both wicked.
RECTOR. Mrs. Fairfield!
MISS FAIRFIELD. Control yourself, Margaret!
MARGARET. [_With a touch of wildness in her manner_] You--do you love
your wife?
RECTOR. Mrs. Fairfield!
MARGARET. Do you?
RECTOR. Mrs. Pumphrey and I--most attached--
MARGARET. Suppose you weren’t. Think of it--to want so desperately to
feel--and to feel nothing. Do you know what it means to dread a person
who loves you? To stiffen at the look in their eyes? To pity
and--shudder? You should not judge.
HILARY, _unseen, opens the door and shuts it again quickly_.
RECTOR. I--I--
MISS FAIRFIELD. There it is, you see, Rector! She doesn’t care _what_
she says.
DR. ALLIOT _enters_.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Gravely, holding the door behind him_] Margaret, my
child-- [_He sees the others and his voice changes_] Hullo, Pumphrey! You
here still? Well, well--you’re cutting it fine.
RECTOR. The service! [_He pulls out his watch, stricken._]
DR. ALLIOT. I’ll run you down there if you’ll wait a minute. [_To_
MARGARET, _privately, poking a wise forefinger_] What you want, my
child, is a good cry and a cup of tea.
RECTOR. [_Coming up to_ MARGARET, _stiffly_] Goodday, Mrs. Fairfield!
You will not--reconsider--?
MARGARET. I will not.
RECTOR. I regret--I regret-- [_To_ MISS FAIRFIELD] My dear lady, you have
my sympathy. I think I left my hat-- [MISS FAIRFIELD _escorts him into
the hall_.]
DR. ALLIOT. Hilary’s coming home with me, Margaret. He wants a word with
you first. Can you manage that?
MARGARET. Of course.
DR. ALLIOT. [_Abruptly_] Where’s Meredith?
MARGARET. [_Eagerly_] He’s coming. He’s taking me away.
DR. ALLIOT. Good. The sooner the better.
RECTOR. [_Reappearing at the door_] Dr. Alliot--it now wants seven
minutes to the half.
DR. ALLIOT. Coming! Coming! See now--you can be gentle with him--
MARGARET. Of course.
DR. ALLIOT. [_With a keen look at her_] Nor yet too gentle. Well, well,
God be with you, child! [_He trots out._]
HILARY _comes in, hesitating. If he is without dignity, he is,
nevertheless, too much like a hectored, forlorn child to be
ludicrous._
HILARY. Have they gone? [_Reassuring her_] It’s all right. I’m going
too. [_He waits for her to answer. She says nothing_] I’m going. I’ve
got to. I see that. He’s made me see.
MARGARET. Dr. Alliot?
HILARY. I’m going to stay with him till I can look round. He’s going to
make it right with that place.
MARGARET. I’m glad you’ve got a good friend, Hilary.
HILARY. Yes, he’s a good chap. He’s talked to me. He’s made me see. [_He
comes a little closer._] He says--and I do see--It’s too late, of
course-- [_his look at her is a petition, but she makes no sign_] isn’t
it? [_He comes nearer._] Yes--it’s too late. It wouldn’t be fair--to ask
you-- [_again the look_] would it?
MARGARET. [_Imploringly_] Oh, Hilary, Hilary!
HILARY. [_Encouraged to come closer_] No woman could be expected--you
couldn’t be expected-- [_she makes no sign_] could you? [_Repeating his
lesson_] It’s what he says--you’ve made a new life for yourself-- [_he
waits_] haven’t you? There’s no room in it--for me--is there? [_He is
close to her. She does not move._] So it’s just a case of--saying
good-bye and going, because--because--I quite see--there’s no
chance-- [_Suddenly he throws himself down beside her, catching at her
hands, clinging to her knees_] Oh! Meg, Meg, Meg! isn’t there just a
chance?
MARGARET. [_Faintly_] Hilary, I can’t stand it.
HILARY. [_And from now to the end of the scene he is at full pelt,
tumbling over his words, frantic_] Yes, but listen to me! Listen to me!
You don’t listen. Listen to me! I’ve been alone so long--
MARGARET. Gray! Gray! Why don’t you come?
HILARY. I’ll not trouble you. I’ll not get in your way--but--don’t leave
me all alone. Give me something--the rustle of your dress, the cushion
where you’ve lain--your voice about the house. You can’t deny me such
little things, that you give your servant and your dog.
MARGARET. It’s madness--
HILARY. It’s naked need!
MARGARET. What good should I be to you? I don’t love you, Hilary--poor
Hilary. I love him. I never think of anything but him.
HILARY. But it’s me you married. You promised--you promised--better or
worse--in sickness in health--You can’t go back on your promise.
MARGARET. It isn’t fair.
HILARY. Anything’s fair! You don’t know what misery means.
MARGARET. I’m learning.
HILARY. But you don’t _know_. You couldn’t leave me to it if you knew.
Why, I’ve never known you hurt a creature in all your life! Remember
the rat-hunts in the barn, the way we used to chaff you? and the
starling? and the kitten you found? Why, I’ve seen you step aside for a
little creeping green thing on the path. You’ve never hurt anything.
Then how can you hurt me so? You can’t have changed since yesterday--
MARGARET. [_In despairing protest_] It’s half my life ago--
HILARY. It’s yesterday, it’s yesterday!
MARGARET. [_With the fleeting courage of a half caught bird_] Yes, it
_is_ yesterday. It’s how you took me--yesterday--and now you’re doing it
again!
HILARY. [_Catching at the hope of it_] Am I? Am I? Is it yesterday?
yesterday come back again?
MARGARET. [_In the toils_] No--no! Hilary, I can’t!
HILARY. [_At white heat_] No, you can’t. You can’t leave me.
You can’t do it to me. You can’t drive me out--the
wilderness--alone--alone--alone. You can’t do it, Meg--you can’t do
it--you can’t!
MARGARET. [_Beaten_] I suppose--I can’t.
HILARY. You--you’ll stay with me? [_Breaking down utterly_] Oh, God
bless you, Meg, God bless you, God bless you--
_She resigns her hands to him while she sits, flattened against the
back of her chair, quivering a little, like a crucified moth._
MARGARET. [_Puzzling it out_] You mean--God help me?
CURTAIN.