_Daniel Mérital_. Father's face has been very odd these last few
weeks. Sometimes I wonder whether he didn't steal the money after all.
But we shall know after the libel action this afternoon. It starts
at two. Oh, are you there, Father? I'm just going to see a man about
something. [_Exit.
Enter_ Frépeau.
_Mérital_. Ah, Frépeau, the man I wanted to see. (_Plaintively_)
Frépeau, when you called on me in the First Act, don't you think you
might have given some indication by the play of your features that it
was _you_ who originated this libel against me, and that you are my
deadly enemy? The merest twitch of the ears would have been enough.
_HOLMAN CLARK_. I wanted it to be a surprise for the audience.
_Sir GEORGES_. Yes, but is that art?
_HOLMAN CLARK_. Besides, in real life--
_Sir GEORGES (amazed_). Real life? Good Heavens, HOLMAN, is this
_your_ first appearance in England too?
_HOLMAN CLARK (annoyed_). Let's get on with the play.
_Sir GEORGES_. Certainly. Wait a moment till I've got my
"strong-man-with-his-back-to-the-wall" expression. (_Arranging his
face_.) How's that?
_HOLMAN CLARK_. Begin again.... That's better.
_Mérital (sternly_). Now then, Frépeau! I must ask you to give
instructions that the libel is withdrawn in court this afternoon. If
not--
_Frépeau_. Well?
_Mérital (softly_). I know somebody else who stole something from the
stamp drawer thirty years ago. (Frépeau's _whiskers tremble_.) Aha, I
thought I'd move you this time.
_Frépeau_. It's a lie! How did you find out?
_Mérital (blandly_). I said to myself, "I am the hero of this play and
I've got to get out of this mess somehow. If I could only find some
papers incriminating the villain--that's you all would be well." So
I--er--found them.... It's no good, Frépeau. Unless you let me off,
you're done.
_Frépeau (getting up_). Well, I suppose I must. But personally I'd be
ashamed to escape through such a rotten coincidence as that. (_Making
for the door_.) I'll just go and arrange it. Er, I suppose this is the
end?
_Sir GEORGES_. The end? Good Heavens, man, I've got my big scene to
come. I have to explain _why_ Mérital stole the money thirty years
ago!
_HOLMAN CLARK (eagerly_). Let me guess. His wife was starv--
_SIR GEORGES_. No, no, don't spoil it. (_Sternly_) It's a very serious
thing, HOLMAN, to spoil an actor-manager's big scene.
CURTAIN.