_The courtyard in the_ ANDERSONS' _part of the temple_.
_At the back is the outer wall raised by two or three steps from
the ground. From the top of the wall, projects a shallow roof of
yellow tiles supported by wooden pillars painted red, shabby and
rather weather-worn, and this roof is raised in the middle of the
wall, where there is a huge wooden gateway. When this is opened the
street is seen and on the other side of it a high, blank, white
wall. The courtyard is paved with great flags. On each side of it
are living rooms._
_There is a long rattan chair; a round table and a couple of
armchairs._ GEORGE _is lying on the long chair, looking at an
illustrated paper, and the_ AMAH _is seated on the ground, smoking
her water-pipe_.
GEORGE. [_With a smile, putting down the paper._] You're not as chatty
as usual this afternoon, amah.
AMAH. Suppose I got nothing to talk about I no talk.
GEORGE. You are an example to your sex, amah. Your price is above
rubies.
AMAH. No likee rubies velly much. No can sell velly much money.
GEORGE. In point of fact I wasn't thinking of giving you rubies, even
reconstructed, but if I did I can't think you'd be so indelicate as to
sell them.
AMAH. I no think you velly funny man.
GEORGE. I was afraid you didn't. Would you think it funny if I sat on my
hat?
AMAH. Yes, I laugh then. Hi, hi.
GEORGE. The inscrutable heart of China expands to the self-same joke
that convulses a duchess in London and a financier in New York.
AMAH. You more better read the paper.
GEORGE. Where's Missy?
AMAH. I think she in her room. You wanchee?
GEORGE. No.
AMAH. I think she come by and by.
GEORGE. [_Looking at his watch._] Mr. Anderson ought to be back from the
office soon. [_There is a loud knocking at the door._] Hulloa, who's
that?
[_A_ SERVANT _comes out of the house and going to the gateway
withdraws the bolt_.
AMAH. I think doctor come see you, maybe.
GEORGE. Oh no, he's not coming to-day. He said he'd look in to-morrow
before I started.
[_The_ AMAH _gets up and looks at the doorway of which now the_
SERVANT _has opened one side_. HAROLD KNOX _and his sister_ SYLVIA
_are seen_.
KNOX. May we come in?
GEORGE. Good man. Of course.
[_They come towards_ GEORGE. SYLVIA _is a very pretty, simple,
healthy, and attractive girl. She is dressed in a light summer
frock. There is in her gait and manner something so spring-like and
fresh that it is a pleasure to look at her_.
KNOX. I've brought my young sister along with me. [_As_ GEORGE _rises to
his feet_.] Don't get up. You needn't put on any frills for a chit like
that.
GEORGE. Nonsense. I'm perfectly well. [_Shaking hands with_ SYLVIA.] How
d'you do? My name is Conway.
KNOX. I only omitted to inform her of that fact because she already
knew it.
SYLVIA. Strangely enough that happens to be true. But I wish you'd lie
down again.
GEORGE. I'm sick of lying down. The doctor says I'm perfectly all right.
I'm going home to-morrow.
KNOX. [_Catching sight of the_ AMAH.] Hulloa, sweetheart, I didn't see
you. Sylvia, I want you to know the only woman I've ever loved.
GEORGE. [_Smiling._] This is Mrs. Anderson's amah.
SYLVIA. [_With a little friendly nod._] How do you do?
AMAH. [_All in a breath._] Velly well, thank you. How do you do? Velly
well, thank you ... You Mr. Knox sister?
SYLVIA. Yes.
AMAH. You missionary lady?
SYLVIA. No.
AMAH. What for you come China then?
SYLVIA. I came to see my brother.
AMAH. How old are you?
KNOX. Be truthful, Sylvia.
SYLVIA. I'm twenty-two.
AMAH. How many children you got?
SYLVIA. I'm not married.
AMAH. What for you no married if you twenty-two?
SYLVIA. It does need an explanation, doesn't it? The truth is that
nobody's asked me.
KNOX. What a lie!
AMAH. You come China catchee husband?
SYLVIA. Certainly not.
AMAH. You Christian?
SYLVIA. Not a very good one, I'm afraid.
AMAH. Who baptized you?
SYLVIA. Well, you know, it's an awfully long time ago. I forget.
KNOX. She's like me, amah, she's a Presbyterian.
AMAH. You go to hell then. Only Seventh Day Adventists no go to hell.
SYLVIA. It'll be rather crowded then, I'm afraid.
AMAH. You only baptized once?
SYLVIA. So far as I know.
AMAH. I baptized one, two, three, four, five times. I velly Christian
woman.
KNOX. I say, old man, I don't want to dash your fond hopes, but in point
of fact we didn't come here to see you.
GEORGE. Why not? Surely Miss Knox must want to see the principal sights
of Peking.
KNOX. The man is not a raving lunatic, Sylvia. His only delusion is that
he's a humourist ... Sylvia thought she'd like to call on Mrs. Harry.
GEORGE. I'm sure Daisy will be very glad. Amah, go and tell Missy that
there's a lady.
AMAH. Can do.
[_Exit._
KNOX. I say, have they caught any of those blighters who tried to kill
you?
GEORGE. No, not a chance. They weren't after me, you know; they were
after Harry.
KNOX. Is there anyone who has a grudge against him?
GEORGE. I don't think so. He doesn't seem very keen on discussing the
incident.
[DAISY _comes in_.
KNOX. Here she is. I've brought my sister to see you, Mrs. Harry.
DAISY. [_Shaking hands._] How do you do?
SYLVIA. What a wonderful place you live in!
DAISY. It's rather attractive, isn't it? You must see the temple before
you go.
SYLVIA. I'd love to.
DAISY. Do sit down. [_To_ KNOX.] What do you think of my patient?
KNOX. I think he's a fraud. I never saw anyone look so robust.
DAISY. [_Delighted._] He's made a wonderful recovery.
GEORGE. Thanks to you, Daisy. You can't think how she nursed me.
KNOX. It was rather a narrow escape, wasn't it?
DAISY. For two days we thought he might die at any minute. It was--it
was rather dreadful.
GEORGE. And do you know, all that time she never left me a minute. [_To_
DAISY.] I don't know how I can ever thank you.
DAISY. Oh, well, Harry had his work. I didn't think he ought to be
robbed of his night's rest for a worthless creature like you, and I
hated the idea of a paid nurse looking after you.
SYLVIA. You must have been worn out at the end of it.
DAISY. No, I'm as strong as a horse. And it was such a relief to me when
the doctor said he was out of danger, I forgot I was tired.
KNOX. I don't know why you bothered about him. There are such a lot of
fellows who want his job and they all know they could do it much better
than he can.
GEORGE. Everyone's been so extraordinarily good to me. I had no idea
there was so much kindness in the world.
DAISY. [_To_ SYLVIA, _very pleasantly_.] Will you come and look at the
temple now while they're bringing tea?
SYLVIA. Yes, I'd like to very much.
DAISY. I think you'll enjoy your tea more if you feel you've done the
sight.
SYLVIA. It's all so new to me. Everything interests me. I've fallen
passionately in love with Peking.
[_They wander off, talking gaily._
GEORGE. Harold, you're a very nice boy.
KNOX. That's what the girls tell me. But I don't know why you should.
GEORGE. I think it was rather sporting of you to bring your sister to
see Daisy.
KNOX. I don't deserve any credit for that. She insisted on coming.
GEORGE. Oh?
KNOX. She met Harry at the club and took rather a fancy to him. When I
told her Daisy was a half-caste and people didn't bother much about her
she got right up on her hind legs. I told her she'd only just come out
to China and didn't know what she was talking about and then she gave me
what she called a bit of her mind. I was obliged to remark that if that
was a bit I didn't much care about knowing the rest.
GEORGE. It sounds as though you'd had a little tiff.
KNOX. She said she had no patience with the airs people gave themselves
in the East. A Eurasian was just as good as anybody else. And when I
happened to say I was coming here to-day to see how you were she said
she'd come too.
GEORGE. It's very kind of her. Daisy leads a dreadfully lonely life. It
would mean so much to her if she knew one or two white women. If they
take to one another, you won't try to crab it, will you? I fancy Daisy
wants a friend rather badly.
KNOX. I shouldn't like it very much, you know. Would you much care for
your sister to be very pally with a half-caste?
GEORGE. Daisy is one in a thousand. You can't think what she's done for
me during my illness. My mother couldn't have taken more care of me.
KNOX. They're often very good-hearted. But as a matter of fact nothing I
can say will have the least effect on Sylvia. Girls have changed a lot
since the war. If she wants to do a thing and she thinks it right,
she'll do it. And if I try to interfere she's quite capable of telling
me to go to the devil.
GEORGE. She seems to be a young woman of some character.
KNOX. Perhaps because she's had rather a rough time. The fellow she was
engaged to was killed in the war and she was awfully cut up. She drove
an ambulance for the last two years and then she went up to Girton.
After that my father thought she'd better come out here for a bit.
GEORGE. She ought to like it.
KNOX. If she doesn't put up people's backs too much. She can't stand
anything like injustice or cruelty. If she thinks people are unkind to
Daisy or sniffy about her, she'll stick to her like a leech. However, I
daresay she'll get married.
GEORGE. [_Smiling._] That'll learn her.
KNOX. Why don't you marry her? It's about time you settled down.
GEORGE. [_With a chuckle._] You fool.
KNOX. Why? You're by way of being rather eligible, aren't you?
GEORGE. I don't know why you want to get rid of her. She seems a very
nice sister.
KNOX. Of course I love having her with me, but she does cramp my style a
bit. And she ought to marry. She'd make you a first-rate wife.
GEORGE. Much too good for the likes of me.
KNOX. Of course she's a bit independent, but one has to put up with that
in girls nowadays. And she's as good as gold.
GEORGE. One can see that at a mile, my son.
KNOX. I say, who was Rathbone, Daisy's first husband, do you know?
GEORGE. [_His face a blank._] Harry told me he was an American. He said
he was in business in the F. M. S.
KNOX. That's what Harry told me. I met a fellow the other day who lives
in Singapore who told me he'd never heard of Rathbone.
GEORGE. [_Chaffing him._] Perhaps he didn't move in the exalted circles
that a friend of yours would naturally move in.
KNOX. I suppose there was a Mr. Rathbone?
[_There is a distant sound in the street of Chinese instruments
being played._
GEORGE. Hulloa, there's the procession coming along.
KNOX. What procession?
GEORGE. It's a Manchu wedding. The amah was talking about it this
morning.
KNOX. I must call Sylvia. She'd love to see it. Sylvia.
[DAISY _and_ SYLVIA _come out of the house just as he calls_.
SYLVIA. Don't shout, Harold.
KNOX. Come along and have your education improved. A Manchu wedding is
just going to pass by....
SYLVIA. Oh, good, let's go out into the street!
DAISY. You can see it just as well from here. I'll have the doors
opened. Boy, open the gate.
KNOX. Yes, that's the ticket. We shall see it better from here.
[WU _during the last few speeches has appeared with the tea, which
he sets down on the table. On receiving_ DAISY'S _order he goes to
the doorway and draws the bolt. He pulls back one heavy door while_
KNOX _pulls back the other. The empty street is seen. The music
grows louder. Now the procession comes, gay, brilliant, and
barbaric against the white wall of the street; first men on
horseback, then Buddhist monks in gray, with their shaven heads;
then the band, playing wild, discordant music; after them passes a
long string of retainers in red, with strange shaped hats; then
come retainers bearing in open palanquins great masses of cardboard
fruits and all manner of foodstuffs, silver vessels and gold; these
are followed by two or three youths on horseback, gorgeously
dressed, and these again by the palanquin, carved and richly
painted and gilt, of the bride. Then pass more priests and another
band and finally a last string of retainers in red. When the last
one has disappeared a beggar shows himself at the open doorway. He
is excessively thin, and he has a bush of long, bristly hair; he is
clothed in pale rags, torn and patched; his legs and feet are bare.
He puts out a bony hand and breaks into a long, high-pitched
whine_.
KNOX. Oh, Lord, get out!
DAISY. Oh, no, please, Harold, give him a copper or two.
GEORGE. Daisy never lets a beggar go away without something.
DAISY. It's not because I'm charitable. I'm afraid they'll bring me bad
luck.
KNOX. [_Taking a coin from his pocket._] Here you are, Clarence. Now
buzz off.
[_The beggar takes his dole and saunters away._ WU _closes the
doors_.
SYLVIA. [_Enthusiastically._] I _am_ glad I saw that.
DAISY. You'll get very tired of that sort of thing before you've been
here long. Now let's have tea.
SYLVIA. Oh, I don't think we'll stay, thank you very much. We have
another call to make.
DAISY. How tiresome of you. Harry ought to be back in a few minutes.
He'll be disappointed not to have seen you.
SYLVIA. I promised to go and see Mrs. Stopfort. Do you know her?
DAISY. I know who you mean.
SYLVIA. I think people are being absolutely beastly to her. It simply
makes my blood boil.
DAISY. Oh, how?
SYLVIA. Well, you know that her husband's a drunken brute who's treated
her abominably for years. At last she fell in love with a man and now
her husband is going to divorce her. It's monstrous that he should be
able to.
DAISY. Are the ladies of Peking giving her the cold shoulder?
KNOX. The cold _shoulder_ hardly describes it. The frozen silverside.
GEORGE. I think she's well rid of Reggie Stopfort at any price, but I'm
sorry the other party is Andre Leroux.
SYLVIA. Why? She introduced me to him. I thought he was a very nice
fellow.
GEORGE. Well, you see, if he'd been English or American, he would have
married her as a matter of course.
SYLVIA. So I should hope.
DAISY. Because she was divorced on his account, you mean?
GEORGE. Yes. But the French haven't our feeling on that matter. I'm not
quite sure if Andre will be willing to marry her.
SYLVIA. Oh, that would be dreadful! Under those circumstances the man
must marry the woman. He simply must.
GEORGE. Of course.
KNOX. Come along, Sylvia. We won't discuss women's rights now.
SYLVIA. [_Giving_ DAISY _her hand very cordially._] And if there's
anything I hate it's people who say they're going and then don't go.
Good-bye, Mrs. Anderson.
DAISY. It's been very nice to see you.
SYLVIA. I do hope you'll come and see me soon. I'm so very much alone
you'd be doing me a charity if you'd look me up. We might do the curio
shops together.
DAISY. That would be great fun.
SYLVIA. Good-bye, Mr. Conway. I'm glad to see you so well.
GEORGE. Thank you very much, good-bye.
[KNOX _and_ SYLVIA _go out._ DAISY _has walked with them towards
the doorway and now returns to_ GEORGE.
GEORGE. What a very nice girl, Daisy.
DAISY. She seems to make a specialty of speckled peaches. First me and
then Mrs. Stopfort.
GEORGE. I was hoping you'd like her.
DAISY. It's hardly probable. She's everything that I'm not. She has
everything that I haven't. No, I don't like her. But I'd give anything
in the world to be her.
GEORGE. [_Smiling._] I don't think you need envy her.
DAISY. Don't you think she's pretty?
GEORGE. Yes, very. But you're so much more than pretty. I expect you
have more brains in your little finger than she has in her whole body.
DAISY. [_Gravely._] She has something that I haven't got, George, and
I'd give my soul to have.
GEORGE. [_Embarrassed._] I don't know what you mean. [_Changing the
conversation abruptly._] Daisy, now that I'm going away....
DAISY. [_Interrupting._] Are you really going to-morrow?
GEORGE. [_Breezily._] I'm quite well. I'm ashamed to have stayed so
long.
DAISY. I don't look forward very much to the long, empty days when
you're no longer here.
GEORGE. [_Seriously._] I must go, Daisy. I really must.
DAISY. [_After a moment's pause._] What were you going to say to me?
Don't thank me for anything I may have done. It's given me a happiness I
never knew before.
GEORGE. Except for you I should have died. And when I think of the past
I am ashamed.
DAISY. What does the past matter? The past is dead and gone.
GEORGE. And I'm ashamed when I think how patient you were when I was
irritable, how kind and thoughtful. I hardly knew I wanted a thing
before you gave it to me. Sometimes when I felt I couldn't breathe, the
tenderness of your hand on my forehead--oh, it was like a dip in a
highland stream on a summer day. I think I never knew that there was in
you the most precious thing that anyone can have, goodness. Oh, Daisy,
it makes me feel so humble.
DAISY. Goodness? [_With the shadow of a laugh._] Oh, George.
GEORGE. It's because Harry is better and simpler than I am that he was
able to see it in you. He felt it in you always and he was right.
[_The_ AMAH _comes in_.
DAISY. [_Sharply._] What d'you want?
[_The_ AMAH _crosses from one to the other and a thin smile crosses
her eyes_.
AMAH. Master telephone, Daisy.
DAISY. Why didn't you take the message?
[_She is about to go into the house._
AMAH. He have go now. He say very much hurry. I say no can findee you. I
think you go out.
DAISY. Why did you say that?
AMAH. I think more better, maybe.
GEORGE. [_Smiling._] That's right, amah. Never tell the truth when a lie
will do as well.
DAISY. Well, what was the message?
AMAH. Master say he must to go Tientsin. Very important business. No
come back to-night. Come back first train to-morrow.
DAISY. Very well. Tell the boy that we shall be only two to dinner.
AMAH. I go talkee he.
[_Exit._
GEORGE. [_Urbanely._] I say, I don't want to be an awful trouble to you.
I think I'd better go back to my own place to-night.
DAISY. [_Looking at him._] Why should you do that?
GEORGE. I was going to-morrow anyway.
DAISY. Do you think my reputation is such a sensitive flower?
GEORGE. [_Lightly._] Of course not. But people aren't very charitable.
It seems rather funny I should stay here when Harry's away.
DAISY. What do you suppose I care if people gossip?
GEORGE. I care for you.
DAISY. [_With a smile, almost archly._] It's not very flattering to me
that you should insist on going the moment Harry does. Do I bore you so
much as all that?
GEORGE. [_With a chuckle._] How can you talk such nonsense? I haven't
wanted to get well too quickly. I've so enjoyed sitting quietly here
while you read or sewed. I've got so much in the habit of seeing you
about me that if I don't go at once I shall never be able to bring
myself to go at all.
DAISY. Since that horrible accident I've been rather nervous at the
thought of sleeping here by myself. I'm terrified at the thought of
being left alone to-night.
GEORGE. Come in with me, then. The Knoxes will be delighted to put you
up for the night.
DAISY. [_With a sudden change of manner._] I don't want you to go,
George. I want you to stay.
GEORGE. [_As serious as she is._] Daisy, don't be too hard on me. You
don't know. You don't know. [_With an effort he regains his self-control
and returns to his easy, chaffing tone._] Don't forget it's not only a
wound in the lung that I've been suffering from. While you and the
doctor between you have been patching that up, I've been busy sticking
together the pieces of a broken heart. It's nicely set now, no one could
tell that there'd ever been anything wrong with it, but I don't think it
would be very wise to give it a sudden jolt or jerk.
DAISY. [_In a low quivering voice._] Why do you say things like that?
What is the good of making pretences?
GEORGE. [_Determined to keep the note of lightness._] It was very silly
of me to bother you with my little troubles. It was very hot. I was
overworked and nervous at the time or I shouldn't have made so much of
it. I'm sure that you'll be as pleased as I am to know that I'm making a
very good recovery, thank you.
DAISY. [_As though asking a casual question._] You don't care for me any
more?
GEORGE. I have the greatest affection for you. I admire you and of
course I'm grateful to you. But if I thought I was in love with you I
was mistaken.
DAISY. Do you know why I wouldn't have a professional nurse and when you
were unconscious for two days refused to leave you for a minute? Do you
know why, afterwards, at night when you grew delirious I wouldn't let
Harry watch you? I said it would interfere with his work. I dared not
leave you for a single moment. And it was your secret and mine. I
wouldn't let anybody in the world share it with me. Do you know what
you said in your delirium?
GEORGE. [_Disturbed._] I expect I talked an awful lot of rot. People
always do, I believe.
DAISY. [_Passionately._] You used to call me, "Daisy, Daisy," as though
your heart was breaking. And when I leaned over you and said: "I'm
here," you would take my face in your hands so that I could hardly
believe you weren't conscious. And you said: "I love you."
GEORGE. Oh, God!
DAISY. And sometimes I didn't know how to calm you. You were frantic
because you thought they were taking me away from you. "I can't bear
it," you said, "I shall die." I had to put my hands over your mouth so
that no one should hear.
GEORGE. I didn't know what I was saying. I wasn't myself. It was just
the madness of the fever.
DAISY. And sometimes you were so exquisitely tender. Your voice was soft
and caressing. And you called me by sweet names so that the tears ran
down my cheeks. You thought you held me in your arms and you pressed me
to your heart. You were happy then; you were so happy that I was afraid
you'd die of it. I know what love is and you love me.
GEORGE. For God's sake, stop. Why do you torture me?
DAISY. And then you were madly jealous. You hated Harry. I think you
could have killed him.
GEORGE. That's not true. That's infamous. Never. Never.
DAISY. Oh, you can say that with your lips! Sometimes you thought he put
his arms round me and kissed me and you sobbed aloud. Oh, it was so
painful. I forgot that you were unconscious and I took your hands and
said: "He's not here. You and I are alone, alone, alone." And sometimes
I think you understood. You fell back. And a look of peace came on your
face as if you were in heaven and you said--do you know what you said?
You said: "Beloved, beloved, beloved."
[_Her voice breaks and the tears course down her cheeks._ GEORGE
_is shattered by what she has told him_.
GEORGE. I suppose there are few of us that wouldn't turn away from
ourselves in horror if the innermost thoughts of our heart, the thoughts
we're only conscious of to hate, were laid bare. But that shameful thing
that showed itself in me isn't me. I disown it....
DAISY. I thought you had more courage. I thought you had more sense. Do
you call that you, a few conventional prejudices? The real you is the
love that consumes you more hotly than ever the fever did. The only you
is the you that loves me. The rest is only frills. It's a domino that
you put on at a masked ball.
GEORGE. You don't know what you say. Frills? It's honour, and duty, and
decency. It's everything that makes it possible for me to cling to the
shadow of my self-respect.
DAISY. Oh, all that means nothing. You fool. You might as well try with
your bare hands to stop the flow of the Yangtze.
GEORGE. If I perish I perish. Oh, of course I love you. All night I'm
tortured with love and tortured with jealousy, but the day does come at
last and then I can get hold of myself again. My love is some horrible
thing gnawing at my heart-strings. I hate it and despise it. But I can
fight it, fight it all the time. Oh, I've been here too long. I ought to
have got back to work long ago. Work is my only chance. Daisy, I beseech
you to let me go.
DAISY. How can I let you go? I love you.
GEORGE. [_Thunderstruck._] You? [_Impatiently, with a shrug of the
shoulders._] Oh, you're talking nonsense.
DAISY. Why do you suppose I've said all these things? Do you think a
woman cares twopence for a man's love when she doesn't love him?
GEORGE. Oh, it's impossible. You don't know what you're saying. I know
how good and kind you are. You've been touched by my love. You mistake
pity for love.
DAISY. I'm not good and I'm not kind. There's no room in my soul for
pity. In my soul there's only a raging hunger. If I know what you feel
it's because I feel it too. I love you, I love you, I love you.
GEORGE. And Harry?
DAISY. What do I care about Harry? I hate him because he's stood between
me and you.
GEORGE. He is your husband. He is my friend.
DAISY. He doesn't exist. I've loved you always from the first day I saw
you. The others were nothing to me, Lee Tai and Harry and the rest. I've
loved you always. I've never loved anyone but you. All these years I've
kept the letters you wrote to me. I've read them till I know every word
by heart. They're all blurred and smudged with the tears I've wept over
them. They were all I had. Do you think I'm going to let you go now? All
my pain, all my anguish, are nothing any more. I love you and you love
me.
GEORGE. Oh, don't, don't!
DAISY. You can't leave me now. If you leave me I shall kill myself.
GEORGE. I must go away. I must never see you again. Whatever happens we
must never meet.
DAISY. [_Exasperated and impatient._] That's impossible. What will you
say to Harry?
GEORGE. If need be I'll tell him the truth.
DAISY. What difference will that make? Will you love me any the less?
Yes, tell him. Tell him that I love you and you only and that I belong
to you and to you only.
GEORGE. Oh, Daisy, for God's sake try and control yourself. We must do
our duty, we must, we must.
DAISY. I know no duty. I only know love. There's no room in my soul for
anything else. You say that love is like a wild beast gnawing at your
entrails. My love is a liberator. It's freed me from a hateful past.
It's freed me from Harry. There's nothing in the world now but you and
me and the love that joins us. I want you, I want you.
GEORGE. Don't, don't! Oh, this is madness! There's only one thing to be
done. God, give me strength. Daisy, you know I love you. I love you with
all my heart and soul. But it's good-bye. I'll never see you again.
Never. Never. So help me God.
DAISY. How can you be so cruel? You're heartless. I've wanted you all
these years. I've hungered for you. You don't know what my humiliation
has been. Pity me because I loved you. If you leave me now I shall die.
You open the doors of heaven to me and then you slam them in my face.
Haven't you made me unhappy enough? You'd have done better to kill me
ten years ago. You trampled me in the mud and then you left me. Oh, what
shall I do? [_She sinks down to the ground, weeping as though her heart
would break._ GEORGE _looks at her for a minute, his face distorted with
agony; he clenches his hands in the violence of his effort to control
himself. He takes his hat and walks slowly towards the gate. He
withdraws the bolt that holds it. When_ DAISY _hears the sound of this
she starts to her feet and staggers towards him_.] George. No, no. Not
yet.
[_She staggers and with a cry falls headlong. She has fainted._
GEORGE. [_Rushing towards her._] Daisy. Daisy. [_He kneels down and
takes her head in his hands. He is fearfully agitated._] Oh, my darling,
what is it? Oh, my God! Daisy! Speak to me. [_Calling._] Amah, amah!
[DAISY _slowly opens her eyes_.] Oh, my beloved! I thought you were
dead.
DAISY. Lift me up.
GEORGE. You can't stand.
[_He raises her to her feet so that when she is erect she is in his
arms. She puts her arms round his neck._
DAISY. Don't leave me.
GEORGE. My precious. My beloved.
[_She turns her face to him, offering her lips, and he bends his
head and kisses her. She closes her eyes in ecstasy._
DAISY. Take me in. I feel so ill.
GEORGE. I'll carry you.
[_He lifts her up and carries her into the house. From the opposite
side the_ AMAH _appears. She goes to the gateway and slips the bolt
forward into position. Then she comes to the tea-table, sits down
and takes a scone_.
AMAH. Hi, hi.
[_She bites the scone and chews placidly. On her face is a smirk of
irony._
END OF SCENE V