HORSHAM. That's always such a difficult sort of point to determine, isn't
it? He thinks he is to join us. But I've not yet been commanded to form a
cabinet. If neither you--nor Percival--nor perhaps others will work with him
... what am I to do? [_He appeals to them generally to justify this
attitude._]
BLACKBOROUGH. He no longer thinks he's to join us ... it's the question he
left us to decide.
_He leaves_ HORSHAM, _whose perplexity is diminishing._ FARRANT _makes
an effort._
FARRANT. But the scandal won't weaken his position with us now. There won't
be any scandal ... there won't, Blackborough.
HORSHAM. There may be. Though, I take it we're all guiltless of having
mentioned the matter.
BLACKBOROUGH. [_Very detached._] I've only known of it since I came into
this house ... but I shall not mention it.
FARRANT. Oh, I'm afraid my wife knows. [_He adds hastily._] My fault ... my
fault entirely.
BLACKBOROUGH. I tell you Rumour's electric.
HORSHAM _has turned to_ FARRANT _with a sweet smile and with the air
of a man about to be relieved of all responsibility._
HORSHAM. What does she say?
FARRANT. [_As one speaks of a nice woman._] She was horrified.
HORSHAM. Of course. [_Once more he finds refuge and comfort on the
hearthrug, to say, after a moment, with fine resignation._] I suppose I must
let him go.
CANTELUPE. [_On his feet again._] Cyril!
HORSHAM. Yes, Charles?
_With this query he turns an accusing eye on_ CANTELUPE, _who is
silenced._
BLACKBOROUGH. Have you made up your mind to that?
FARRANT. [_In great distress._] You're wrong, Horsham. [_Then in greater._]
That is ... I think you're wrong.
HORSHAM. I'd sooner not let him know to-night.
BLACKBOROUGH. But he asked you to.
HORSHAM. [_All show of resistance gone._] Did he? Then I suppose I must.
[_He sighs deeply._]
BLACKBOROUGH. Then I'll get back to Aylesbury.
_He picks up his motor-cap from the table and settles it on his head
with immense aplomb._
HORSHAM. So late?
BLACKBOROUGH. Really one can get along quicker at night if one knows the
road. You're in town, aren't you, Farrant? Shall I drop you at Grosvenor
Square?
FARRANT. [_Ungraciously._] Thank you.
BLACKBOROUGH. [_With a conqueror's geniality._] I don't mind telling you
now, Horsham, that ever since we met at Shapters I've been wondering how
you'd escape from this association with Trebell. Thought he was being very
clever when he crossed the House to us! It's needed a special providence.
You'd never have got a cabinet together to include him.
HORSHAM. [_With much intention._] No.
FARRANT. [_Miserably.]_ Yes, I suppose that intrigue was a mistake from the
beginning.
BLACKBOROUGH. Well, good-night. [_As he turns to go he finds_ CANTELUPE
_upright, staring very sternly at him._] Good-night, Cantelupe.
CANTELUPE. From what motives have we thrown Trebell over?
BLACKBOROUGH. Never mind the motives if the move is the right one. [_Then he
nods at_ HORSHAM.] I shall be up again next week if you want me.
_And he flourishes out of the room; a man who has done a good hour's
work_, FARRANT, _who has been mooning depressedly around, now backs
towards the door._
FARRANT. In one way, of course, Trebell won't care a damn. I mean, he knows
as well as we do that office isn't worth having ... he has never been a
place-hunter. On the other hand ... what with one thing and the other ...
Blackborough is a sensible fellow. I suppose it can't be helped.
HORSHAM. Blackborough will tell you so. Good-night.
_So_ FARRANT _departs, leaving the two cousins together._ CANTELUPE
_has not moved and now faces_ HORSHAM _just as accusingly._
CANTELUPE. Cyril, this is tragic.
HORSHAM. [_More to himself than in answer._] Yes ... most annoying.
CANTELUPE. Lucifer, son of the morning! Why is it always the highest who
fall?