GRAINGER: What was the good?

  ETHEL: Where are you going?

  GRAINGER: Dunno — I don’t know in the least.

  ETHEL: Oh George, you must come home. Mother says you must.

  GRAINGER: Hm!

  ETHEL: Won’t you?

  GRAINGER: I’d rather not.

  ETHEL: What will you do, then?

  GRAINGER: I may — I shall probably get a job in London.

  ETHEL: Oh George, don’t, don’t go to London.

  GRAINGER: What else can I do?

  ETHEL: Come home to Mother with me.

  GRAINGER: I’ll be damned if I will.

  ETHEL: No, you never will do anything I ask you.

  GRAINGER: I shan’t do that.

  ETHEL: Don’t you want to be with me?

  GRAINGER: If I want ever so badly, I can’t, with no money.

  ETHEL: Then how are you going to live alone, with no money?

  GRAINGER: I can manage for myself.

  ETHEL: I know what you want, you want to run away. It is mean, mean of you.

  GRAINGER: What’s the good of my coming to your place, there, where they kicked me out?

  ETHEL: And what if you’ve nowhere else to go? And what are you going to do in London?

  GRAINGER: Look for a job.

  ETHEL: And what when you’ve got one?

  GRAINGER: Save up to get some things together.

  ETHEL: How much have you saved here?

  GRAINGER: Not a fat lot — but I have saved.

  ETHEL: How much?

  GRAINGER: Some — at any rate.

  ETHEL: Have you been miserable? I know you like plenty of life. Has it made you miserable to be tied up?

  GRAINGER: Not miserable — but it’s been a bit of a devil.

  ETHEL: We ought to live together.

  GRAINGER: On what?

  ETHEL: On what we can get.

  GRAINGER: No, thank you.

  ETHEL: We might as well not be married. I believe you hate me for having married you. Do you — do you?

  GRAINGER: Now Ethel, drop it. Don’t get excited. You know I don’t feel anything of the sort.

  ETHEL (weeping): But you don’t love me.

  GRAINGER (tenderly): Why, I do, Ethel, I do.

  ETHEL: I love you, George, I love you.

  GRAINGER: Poor old Ethel — and I love you. And whoever says I don’t, is a liar.

  ETHEL: You’ve been true to me, George?

  GRAINGER: What do you mean?

  ETHEL: Have you been true to me?

  BRENTNALL: No, he hasn’t.

  GRAINGER (fiercely): Now Billy!

  BRENTNALL: I am your husband’s old friend, Brentnall, and your friend, Mrs Grainger. (Gets out of bed, shakes hands with ETHEL.)

  ETHEL: I didn’t know you were there.

  BRENTNALL: Never mind. (Puts on a dressing-gown.)

  ETHEL: Do you say George hasn’t been true to me?

  BRENTNALL: I do. Do you really love him?

  ETHEL: He is my husband.

  BRENTNALL: You do love him, I can see. Then, look here, keep him. You can do it, I should think. Keep him. And you, George, be decent.

  GRAINGER: Be decent yourself.

  BRENTNALL: I am. (Lights a cigarette.) You don’t mind if I smoke?

  ETHEL: No. George, oh George! It’s not true what he says, is it?

  GRAINGER: No!

  ETHEL (weeping): I couldn’t bear it. (Embracing him.) I couldn’t bear it.

  BRENTNALL (aside): That’s the ticket.

  GRAINGER: Never mind, little girl — never mind.

  ETHEL: You won’t leave me again?

  BRENTNALL (aside): Good shot!

  GRAINGER: What can I do?

  ETHEL: I’ve got seventy pounds, George, I’ve got seventy pounds.

  GRAINGER: I don’t want your money, Ethel.

  ETHEL: You don’t mind making a fool of me, and neglecting me, but you won’t have my money.

  GRAINGER: Now Ethel —

  ETHEL (flashing): Isn’t it so?

  GRAINGER: No, Ethel.

  ETHEL: Then we’ll live together on seventy pounds, till you get a job?

  GRAINGER: But you see —

  ETHEL (turning, flashing, to BRENTNALL): Has he been living straight — do they know here he’s married?

  BRENTNALL: I’ve told a few of them.

  ETHEL (turning slowly to GRAINGER): Now then —

  GRAINGER: You can do what the hell you like.

  ETHEL: Then I shall live with you, from this minute onwards.

  BRENTNALL: Knocked out, George!

  GRAINGER: Curse you, Brentnall.

  BRENTNALL: You are a rotter, my dear fellow.

  ETHEL (weeping): There’s baby crying.

  Exit ETHEL, weeping. BRENTNALL smokes a cigarette — GRAINGER fumes.

  BRENTNALL (throwing him a dressing-gown): You’d better clothe yourself — you’ll feel stronger.

  GRAINGER (getting into the dressing-gown): What d’you reckon you’re up to?

  BRENTNALL: Don’t be a fool, George, don’t be a swine. If you’re going to clear out, stand up and say so honourably! Say you’ll not abide by your marriage. You can do that, with decency.

  GRAINGER: How the devil can I?

  BRENTNALL: Will you?

  GRAINGER: No, damn it, how can I? I’m not a —

  BRENTNALL: Very well then, you won’t clear out, you won’t renounce your marriage. Very well then, go and live with the girl, and be decent. Have a cigarette! (GRAINGER takes a cigarette.)

  GRAINGER: It’s a cursed rotten hole —

  BRENTNALL: Then for the Lord’s sake, make it as comfortable as possible, if you’re going to stop in it.

  GRAINGER: Hark!

  BRENTNALL: Sally!

  GRAINGER: It is, begad!

  ETHEL appears.

  ETHEL: There’s a woman enquiring for you.

  GRAINGER: What for — what does she want?

  ETHEL: She wants you.

  GRAINGER: Hm! Is it Sally? She’s been running after me ever since I’ve been here, bless her.

  BRENTNALL: Let’s have her up. (Calling.) Do come upstairs, Miss Magneer. It’s quite decent.

  GRAINGER: It’s a bit thick, Billy.

  Enter SALLY.

  BRENTNALL (to SALLY): Excuse our appearance, won’t you? How do you do? (Shakes hands.)

  SALLY: How do you do?

  BRENTNALL: Have you been introduced to Mrs Grainger? Mrs Doctor Grainger — Miss Magneer.

  SALLY: I’ve been given to understand this is Mrs Doctor Grainger — and that the baby downstairs —

  BRENTNALL: Is Master Jimmy Grainger. Quite so.

  SALLY: I think it is quite so. It’s happened quite so, but it’s not quite the thing.

  BRENTNALL: Don’t let us quarrel, Sally. Don’t be quarrelling with us the last half-hour we shall be here.

  SALLY: Perhaps not. But what was he masquerading round as not married for, if he had a wife and a child?

  ETHEL: You see, Miss Magneer, the fact that Dr Grainger chose to keep his marriage a secret wouldn’t have hurt you, unless you’d rushed in to be hurt.

  SALLY: Yes — meaning to say as I ran after him. (To GRAINGER.) Eh?

  GRAINGER: Well — what else can you call it, Sally?

  SALLY: And who wanted me to walk down the fields with him, the first time he saw me?

  GRAINGER: I must say I think you wanted me quite as much, if not more, than I wanted you, Sally.

  SALLY: Oh, did I?

  ETHEL: I have no doubt of it.

  SALLY: And did every single girl you met want you then, Dr Grainger?

  GRAINGER: I never said so nor meant so.

  SALLY: The one downstairs, for instance.

  GRAINGER: Who d’you mean?

  SALLY: Annie Calladine.

  GRAINGER: What’s she doing here?

  ETHEL: She met me at the station. I left her holding baby.

  SALLY: Let her come up, and say her share. No, you daren’t and you know it.

  GRAINGER: Daren’t I? I say, Annie — Annie!

  ANNIE’S VOICE: Yes!

  GRAINGER: Would you mind coming upstairs a minute?

  SALLY: Now you s’ll hear her side, as well.

  Enter ANNIE.

  BRENTNALL: You will excuse us — we were not expecting callers.

  ANNIE: How do you do?

  GRAINGER: Annie, Sally wants you to say everything you can against me, in Ethel’s hearing.

  ANNIE: I don’t wish to say everything I can against you, Dr Grainger. But I do wish to say this, that you are a danger to every unmarried girl, when you go about as you have gone, here. And Mrs Grainger had better look after you very closely, if she means to keep you.

  GRAINGER: Thank you, Annie, very nice.

  ANNIE: Almost as nice as you have been to me.

  GRAINGER: I’m not aware that I’ve done you much damage.

  ANNIE: If you haven’t, it’s not your fault.

  ETHEL flings herself suddenly on the bed, weeping wildly.

  SALLY: I’m thankful I’m not his wife.

  ANNIE: And I am more than thankful.

  BRENTNALL: Don’t cry, Mrs Grainger. George is alright, really.

  ANNIE (fiercely): He is not, Mr Brentnall.

  SALLY: Neither is he.

  BRENTNALL: Nay, don’t cry, Mrs Grainger.

  ELSA SMITH’S VOICE, calling in a jolly singsong: “Knabe, Knabe, wo bist du?”

  BRENTNALL: Gott sei dank, du bist gekommen. Komm hinauf.

  ELSA SMITH’S VOICE: Ja! (Runs upstairs — enter, chattering in German.) Oh!

  BRENTNALL (shaking hands): Frightful muddle! Miss Annie Calladine — Mrs Grainger’s awfully cut up because George has been flirting round.

  ELSA: With you, Miss Magneer — and Miss Calladine?

  SALLY: Not to mention the rest.

  ELSA: Oh — oh! I’m sorry. But don’t cry, Mrs Grainger, please. He’s not a villain if he makes love to the other girls, surely. Perhaps it’s not nice. But it was under trying circumstances.

  BRENTNALL: That’s what I say.

  ELSA: Yes, yes. You’re just as bad yourself. I know you.

  BRENTNALL: Nay Elsa, I’m not the same.

  ELSA: Oh, oh — now don’t try to duck your head in the whitewash pail with me, no. I won’t have it. Don’t cry, Mrs Grainger, don’t cry. He loves you, I’m sure he does, even if he makes love to the others. (To GRAINGER.) Don’t you? (No reply.) Now you are sulking just like a great baby. And then that’s your little baby downstairs? Ah, the dear! (Sobbing from ETHEL.) Never mind, never mind, cry out your cry, then let me talk to you.

  BRENTNALL: Come by motor-car?

  ELSA: Yes, Will Hobson drove me.

  BRENTNALL: Ha!

  ELSA: I like him, so you needn’t say “Ha!”

  BRENTNALL: Ha!

  ELSA (laughing — putting her hand on his shoulder): Not had breakfast, and smoking, and talking to ladies. Aren’t you ashamed, sir?

  BRENTNALL: I’ve nothing to be ashamed of.

  ELSA (laughing): No, no; hear him. (Kisses him.) You are a dear, but a dreadful liar.

  BRENTNALL: Nay, I’ll be damned — I beg your pardon.

  ELSA: No, you never use bad language, do you?

  BRENTNALL: Not in the presence of ladies.

  ELSA: Well, now listen, I prefer to have you as you are with men. If you swear when you are with men, I prefer you to swear when you are with me. Will you promise me you will?

  BRENTNALL: It wouldn’t be a hard promise to keep.

  ELSA: Promise me you won’t have one philosophy when you are with men, in your smoke-room, and another when you are with me, in the drawing-room. Promise me you will be faithful to your philosophy that you have with other men, even before me, always.

  BRENTNALL: Ha! Not so easy.

  ELSA: Promise me. I want the real you, not your fiction.

  BRENTNALL: I promise to do my best.

  ELSA: Yes, and I trust you, you are so decent.

  BRENTNALL: Nay, Elsa —

  ELSA: Yes you are. Oh I see your faults, I do. But you are decent. (To ETHEL, who has stopped crying, but who still lies on the bed.) Don’t be too cross with Dr Grainger, will you, Mrs Grainger? It’s not very dreadful. Perhaps Miss Magneer loved him a little —

  SALLY: That I never did —

  ELSA (laughing): Yes, you did. And (to ANNIE) you were inclined to love him?

  ANNIE: That is the worst part of it.

  ELSA: Well, I, who am a woman, when I see other women who are sweet or handsome or charming, I look at them and think: “Well, how can a man help loving them, to some extent? Even if he loves me, if I am not there, how can he help loving them?”

  ANNIE: But not a married man.

  ELSA: I think a man ought to be fair. He ought to offer his love for just what it is — the love of a man married to another woman — and so on. And, if there is any strain, he ought to tell his wife — ”I love this other woman.”

  SALLY: It’s worse than Mormons.

  BRENTNALL: But better than subterfuge, bestiality, or starvation and sterility.

  ELSA: Yes, yes. If only men were decent enough.

  BRENTNALL: And women.

  ELSA: Yes. Don’t fret, Mrs Grainger. By loving these two women, Dr Grainger has not lost any of his love for you. I would stay with him.

  SALLY: He certainly never loved me — except for what he could get.

  ELSA: Ha-ha! (Very quaint and very earnest.) That is rather dreadful. But yes, he must have loved you — something in you.

  SALLY: It was something.

  ELSA: Yes, I see what you mean — but I don’t think you’re quite right. No, it’s not quite so brutal.

  BRENTNALL: Shall I walk across to you after lunch?

  ELSA: Yes, do that.

  ANNIE: I think I will go. Good-bye, Dr Grainger. (Shakes hands.) Good-bye, Sally. Good-bye, Mr Brentnall.

  BRENTNALL: Good-bye, Annie. Remember what I told you, and decide for the best. Don’t be afraid. (Kisses her.)

  ELSA: Yes. I think, with a little love, we can help each other so much.

  ANNIE (to ELSA): Good-bye. (Crossing and putting her arms round ETHEL.) He isn’t bad, dear. You must bring out the best in him. The baby is a dear. And you’ll write to me.

  Exit ANNIE.

  SALLY: Well, good-bye all. And if I were your wife, Dr Grainger, I’d keep the bit between your teeth.

  ELSA: No, no. No one should be driven like a horse between the shafts. Each should live his own life; you are there to help your husband, not to drive him.

  SALLY: And to watch he doesn’t help himself too often. Well, goodbye. Shall we be seeing you again, Mr Brentnall?

  BRENTNALL: Next week.

  SALLY: Right — do come. Good-bye.

  Exit SALLY.

  ELSA (crossing to ETHEL): Good-bye. Don’t make sorrow and trouble in the world; try to make happiness. I think Satan is in hard judgment, even more than is sin. Try to exonerate.

  ETHEL: It’s such a shock.

  ELSA (kissing her): Ah yes, it is cruel. But don’t let your own suffering blind you, try not to. Good-bye. (Kisses her.) Good-bye, Dr Grainger. (Shakes hands.)

  BRENTNALL: I will see you downstairs — by the way, Grainger and Mrs Grainger are going to stay in my rooms.

  ELSA: How perfectly delightful! Then I shall see you in London. How lovely! Good-bye.

  BRENTNALL: I suppose I’m respectable enough to see you downstairs.

  Exeunt ELSA and BRENTNALL. GRAINGER and his wife sit silent a while. They are afraid of each other.