JANET. (_She comes forward_. _She holds forth her hands with a
half-appealing_, _half-commanding gesture_. _She almost seems
inspired_.) Would it not be so much better if, in this first political
contest between man and woman, the opponents were two people honouring
one another, loving one another? Would it not show to all the world that
man and woman may meet—contend in public life without anger, without
scorn? (_There is a pause_. _They stand listening_.) I do not know,
but it seems to me that if Mr. Chilvers could bring himself to do this it
would be such a big thing—perhaps the most chivalrous thing that a man
has ever done to help women. If he would put aside, quite voluntarily,
all the man’s privilege—just say to the people, “Now choose—one of us two
to serve you. We stand before you, equal, my wife and I.” I don’t know
how to put it, but I feel that by merely doing that one thing Mr.
Chilvers would solve the whole problem. It would prove that good men are
ready to give us of their free accord all that we claim. We should gain
our rights, not by warfare, but through love and understanding. Wouldn’t
that be—so much better? (_She looks—her hands still appealing—from one
to the other_.)
(_Another silence_. _They have all been carried a little off their
feet by_ JANET’S _earnestness_.)
ANNYS. (_She touches him_.) What do you think, dear?
GEOFFREY. Yes, there’s a good deal, of course, in what Miss Blake says.
ANNYS. It _would_ be a big thing for you to do.
PHOEBE. You see, whatever happened, the seat would be yours. This case
only gives us the right to go to the poll. We are keen upon Annys
because she’s our best card, that’s all.
GEOFFREY. Do you wish it?
ANNYS. (_She smiles up at him_.) I’d rather fight you than any one
else.
GEOFFREY. You are not afraid that the situation might be—just a trifle
comical?
ANNYS. (_Shakes her head_.) No. I think everybody will say it was
rather splendid of you.
GEOFFREY. Well, if it will help women.
ANNYS. (_She holds out her hand_. _She is still in exalted mood_.) We
will show how man and woman may be drawn nearer to one another by rivalry
for noble ends.
ST. HERBERT. (_He shakes_ GEOFFREY’S _somewhat limp hand_.) I envy you.
The situation promises to be piquant.
MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS. It will be a battle of roses.
LADY MOGTON. I must go. I shall see you both again to-morrow. (_She
kisses_ GEOFFREY.) This is an historic day.
GEOFFREY. Yes. I daresay we shall all remember it.
LADY MOGTON. (_To_ JANET.) I will get you to come to the station with
me. I can give you your instructions in the cab. (_She kisses_ ANNYS.)
You have been called to a great work. Be worthy of it.
(_They are all making ready to go_. ANNYS _has rung the bell for_
HAKE.)
JANET. (_To_ ANNYS.) Are you glad?
ANNYS. (_Kisses her_.) You showed me the whole thing in a new light.
You were splendid. (_She turns to_ ELIZABETH.) Didn’t I tell you he
would convert you?
ELIZABETH. I was wrong to judge all men guilty. There are also—the
innocent.
ANNYS. (_For a moment—but a moment only—she is pleased_. _Then the
doubtful meaning of_ ELIZABETH’S _words strikes her_.)
(_Enter_ HAKE.)
ANNYS. (_She has to dismiss_ ELIZABETH.) Oh, Hake—(_To_ LADY MOGTON.)
You’ll want a cab, won’t you, mamma?
LADY MOGTON. A taxi— Goodbye, everybody.
(_She sails out_.)
MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS. I have my carriage. (_To_ ELIZABETH.) Can I
give you a lift?
ELIZABETH. Thank you. (_To_ GEOFFREY.) We shall meet again.
GEOFFREY. I feel sure of it.
(MRS. MOUNTCALM-VILLIERS _and_ ELIZABETH _go out_.)
PHOEBE. (_To_ HAKE.) Are Miss Blake’s things dry yet?
JANET. They’ll be quite all right, dear. Please don’t trouble. (_She
advances a timid hand to_ GEOFFREY.) Goodbye, Mr. Chilvers.
GEOFFREY. (_He takes it smiling_.) Goodbye.
(_She goes out_; HAKE _follows_.)
PHOEBE. Goodbye, old boy. (_They shake hands_.) Don’t you let her walk
over you. Make her fight.
ANNYS. (_Laughing_.) Don’t you worry about that.
ST. HERBERT. Would you care to look through McCaw v. Potts? (_He has
the papers in his hand_.)
GEOFFREY. I’ll ask you for it when I want it.
PHOEBE. (_At door_.) You’ll be alone this evening?
ANNYS. Yes. Come in to dinner.
PHOEBE. All right. Goodbye.
ST. HERBERT. Goodbye.
(GEOFFREY _and_ ANNYS _answer them_. _They go out_, _closing the
door_. GEOFFREY _is by the fire_. ANNYS _comes to him_.)
ANNYS. (_She puts her arms round him_.) You don’t mind?
GEOFFREY. (_He holds her at arms’ length—looking into her eyes and
smiling_.) I believe you are looking forward to it.
ANNYS. Do you know how long we have been married? Eight years. And do
you know, sir, that all that time we have never had a difference? Don’t
you think it will be good for you?
GEOFFREY. Do you know _why_ we have never had a difference? Because you
have always had your own way.
ANNYS. Oh!
GEOFFREY. You have got so used to it, you don’t notice it.
ANNYS. Then it will be good for me. I must learn to suffer opposition.
(_She laughs_.)
GEOFFREY. You won’t like it.
ANNYS. Do you know, I’m not at all sure that I shan’t. (_Unconsciously
they let loose of one another_.) You see, I shall have the right of
hitting back. (_Again she laughs_.)
GEOFFREY. (_Also laughingly_.) Is woman going to develop the fighting
instinct?
ANNYS. I wonder.
(_A moment’s silence_.)
GEOFFREY. The difficulty in our case is there seems nothing to fight
about.