LAMB. Ever seen a sheep fighting mad? I have. Damned sight worse than
the old ram.
GEOFFREY. She doesn’t fight the ram.
LAMB. (_He makes a sweeping movement that takes in the room_, _the
election—all things_.) What’s all this? We thought woman hadn’t got the
fighting instinct—that we “knew her.” My boy, we’re in the infants’
class.
SIGSBY. If you want to be his Majesty’s Under-Secretary for Home
Affairs, you take my tip, guv’nor, you’ll win this election.
GEOFFREY. What more can I do than I’m doing? How can I countenance this
sort of thing? (_He indicates the posters_.) Declare myself dead
against the whole movement?
LAMB. You’ll do it later. May as well do it soon.
GEOFFREY. Why must I do it?
LAMB. Because you’re beginning to find out what it means.
(_A pause_. _The door is open_. ANNYS _is standing there_.)
ANNYS. Dare we venture into the enemy’s camp?
(_She enters_, _laughing_, _followed by_ ELIZABETH _and_ PHOEBE. ANNYS
is somewhat changed _from the grave_, _dreamy_ ANNYS _of a short week
ago_. _She is brimming over with vitality—excitement_. _There is a
decisiveness_, _an egoism_, _about her that seems new to her_. _The
women’s skirts make a flutter_. _A breeze seems to have entered_.
ANNYS _runs to her husband_. _For the moment the election fades away_.
_They are all smiles_, _tenderness for one another_.)
ANNYS. Don’t tell, will you? Mamma would be so shocked. Do you know
you haven’t been near me for three days?
GEOFFREY. Umph! I like that. Where were you last night?
ANNYS. Last night? In the neighbourhood of Leicester Square till three
o’clock. Oh, Geoff, there’s such a lot wants altering!
(_She turns to greet the others_.)
GEOFFREY. Your ruining your health won’t do it. You’re looking fagged
to death.
ANNYS. (_She shakes hands with_ SIGSBY.) How are you? (_To_ LAMB.)
I’m so glad you’re helping him. (_She turns again to_ GEOFFREY.) Pure
imagination, dearest. I never felt better in my life.
GEOFFREY. Umph! Look at all those lines underneath your eyes. (_He
shakes hands with_ ELIZABETH.) How do you do? (_To_ PHOEBE.) How are
you?
ANNYS. (_She comes back to him—makes to smooth the lines from his
forehead_.) Look at all those, there. We’ll run away together for a
holiday, when it’s all over. What are you doing this evening?
SIGSBY. You promised to speak at a Smoker to-night; the Bow and Bromley
Buffaloes.
ANNYS. Oh, bother the Buffaloes. Take me out to dinner. I am free
after seven.
(MRS. CHINN _has entered—is arranging the table for tea_. ANNYS _goes
to her_.)
How are you, Mrs. Chinn?
MRS. CHINN. (_She wipes her hand on her apron before taking_ ANNYS’S
_proffered hand_.)
GEOFFREY. (_To_ SIGSBY.) I can turn up there later in the evening.
(_He joins the others for a moment—talks with them_.)
MRS. CHINN. (_Now shaking hands_.) Quite well, thank you, ma’am. (_She
has cast a keen_, _motherly glance at_ ANNYS.) I hope you’re taking care
of yourself, ma’am.
ANNYS. Of course I am. We Politicians owe it to our Party. (_Laughs_.)
How are they getting on here, without me?
MRS. CHINN. Well, ma’am, from what I can see, I think Mr. Chilvers is
trusting a little too much to his merits. Shall I bring some more cups
and saucers, sir?
GEOFFREY. Ah! yes! (_To_ ANNYS.) You’ll have some tea?
ANNYS. Strong, please, Mrs. Chinn.
(MRS. CHINN _goes out_.)
(_Laughs_.) Yes, I know it’s bad for me. (_She puts a hand over his
mouth_.)
PHOEBE. Old Mother Chinn is quite right, you know, Geoff. You’re not
putting up a good fight.
GEOFFREY. (_A slight irritability begins to show itself_.) I frankly
confess that I am not used to fighting women.
ELIZABETH. Yes. It was easier, no doubt, when we took it lying down.
ANNYS. You promised, if I brought you, that you would be good.
GEOFFREY. I wish it had been you.
PHOEBE. Yes, but we don’t!
(_As she and_ ELIZABETH _move away_.)
Did you have a row with the doctor when you were born?
(_To which_ ELIZABETH _replies_, _though the words reach only_ PHOEBE:
“_I might have_, _if I had known that my mother was doing all the
work_, _while he was pocketing the fee_!”)
LAMB. You see, Mrs. Chilvers, our difficulty is that there is nothing to
be said against you—except one thing.
ANNYS. What’s that?
LAMB. That you’re a woman.
ANNYS. (_Smiling_.) Isn’t that enough?
SIGSBY. Quite enough, Mrs. Chilvers, if the guv’nor would only say it.
ANNYS. (_To_ GEOFFREY.) Why don’t you? I’ll promise not to deny it.
(_The others drift apart_. _They group themselves near to the window_.
_They talk together—grow evidently interested and excited_.)
GEOFFREY. I have just had a letter from your—Election Agent, expressing
indignation with one of my supporters for merely having hinted at the
fact.
ANNYS. I don’t understand.
GEOFFREY. (_He takes from the table the letter and hands it to her in
silence_. _He seats himself on the settee and watches her_.)
ANNYS. (_She seats herself on a chair just opposite to him_; _reads the
letter through in silence_.) In my case it does not apply.
GEOFFREY. How do you know?
ANNYS. (_The atmosphere has grown suddenly oppressive_.) Oh, I—I think
we might find some other reason than that. (_She hands him back the
letter_.)
GEOFFREY. It’s the only one of any importance. It embraces all the
others. Shall woman be mother—or politician? (_He puts the letter in
his pocket_.)
ANNYS. Why cannot she be both?
GEOFFREY. (_He is looking at her searchingly_.) Because if she is the
one, she doesn’t want to be the other.
(_A silence_.)
ANNYS. You are wrong. It is the mother instinct that makes us
politicians. We want to take care of the world.
GEOFFREY. Exactly. You think man’s job more interesting than your own.
ANNYS. (_After a moment_.) Who told you that it was a man’s job?
GEOFFREY. Well. (_He shrugs his shoulders_.) We can’t do yours.
ANNYS. Can’t we help each other?
GEOFFREY. As, for instance, in this election! (_He gives a short
laugh_.)
ANNYS. Of course, this is an exceptional case.
GEOFFREY. It’s an epitome of the whole question. You are trying to take
my job away from me. To the neglect of your own.
ANNYS. (_After another moment’s silence_.) Haven’t I always tried to do
my duty?
GEOFFREY. I have thought so.
ANNYS. Oh, my dear, we mustn’t quarrel. You will win this election. I
want you to win it. Next time we must fight side by side again.
GEOFFREY. Don’t you see? Fighting you means fighting the whole
movement. (_He indicates the posters pinned to the walls_.) That sort
of thing.
ANNYS. (_After a brief inspection_.) Not that way. (_Shaking her
head_.) It would break my heart for you to turn against us. Win because
you are the better man. (_Smiling_.) I want you to be the better man.
GEOFFREY. I would rather be your husband.
ANNYS. (_Smiling_.) Isn’t that the same thing?
GEOFFREY. No. I want a wife.
ANNYS. What precisely do you mean by “wife”?
GEOFFREY. It’s an old-established word.
(MRS. CHINN _has entered to complete the tea arrangements_. _She is
arranging the table_.)
MRS. CHINN. There’s a deputation downstairs, sir, just come for you.
GEOFFREY. What are they?
MRS. CHINN. It’s one of those societies for the reform of something.
They said you were expecting them.
SIGSBY. (_Breaking away from the group by the window_.) Quite right.
(_Looks at his watch_.) Five o’clock, I’ll bring them up.
GEOFFREY. Happen to know what it is they want to reform?
SIGSBY. (_By door_.) Laws relating to the physical relationship between
the sexes, I think.
GEOFFREY. Oh, only that!
SIGSBY. Something of the sort.
(_He goes out_. MRS. CHINN _also by the other door_.)
GEOFFREY. (_Rising_.) Will you pour out?
ANNYS. (_She has been thinking_. _She comes back to the present_.) We
shan’t be in your way?
GEOFFREY. Oh, no. It will make it easier to get rid of them.
(ANNYS _changes her chair_. _The others gather round_. _The service
and drinking of tea proceeds in the usual course_.)
(_To_ ELIZABETH.) You’ll take some tea?
ELIZABETH. Thank you.
GEOFFREY. You must be enjoying yourself just now.
ELIZABETH. (_Makes a moue_.) They insist on my being agreeable.
ANNYS. It’s so good for her. Teaches her self-control.
LAMB. I gather from Mrs. Spender, that in the perfect world there will
be no men at all.
ELIZABETH. Oh, yes, they will be there. But in their proper place.
ST. HERBERT. That’s why you didn’t notice them.
(_The_ DEPUTATION _reaches the door_. _The sound of voices is heard_.)
PHOEBE. She’s getting on very well. If she isn’t careful, she’ll end up
by being a flirt.
(_The_ DEPUTATION _enters_, _guided by_ SIGSBY. _Its number is five_,
_two men and three women_. _Eventually they group themselves—some
standing_, _some sitting—each side of_ GEOFFREY. _The others gather
round_ ANNYS, _who keeps her seat at the opposite side of the table_.)
SIGSBY. (_Talking as he enters_.) Exactly what I’ve always maintained.
HOPPER. It would make the husband quite an interesting person.
SIGSBY. (_Cheerfully_.) That’s the idea. Here we are, guv’nor. This
is Mr. Chilvers.
(GEOFFREY _bows_, _the_ DEPUTATION _also_. SIGSBY _introduces a
remarkably boyish-looking man_, _dressed in knickerbockers_.)
SIGSBY. This is Mr. Peekin, who has kindly consented to act as
spokesman. (_To the_ DEPUTATION, _generally_.) Will you have some tea?
MISS BORLASSE. (_A thick-set_, _masculine-featured lady_, _with short
hair and heavy eyebrows_. _Her deep_, _decisive tone settles the
question_.) Thank you. We have so little time.
MR. PEEKIN. We propose, Mr. Chilvers, to come to the point at once.
(_He is all smiles_, _caressing gestures_.)
GEOFFREY. Excellent.
PEEKIN. If I left a baby at your door, what would you do with it?
GEOFFREY. (_For a moment he is taken aback_, _recovers himself_.) Are
you thinking of doing so?
PEEKIN. It’s not impossible.
GEOFFREY. Well, it sounds perhaps inhospitable, but do you know I really
think I should ask you to take it away again.
PEEKIN. Yes, but by the time you find it there, I shall have
disappeared—skedaddled.