Act III
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It is Sunday morning, about ten o’clock. There are various breakfast dishes on a side table, and a big table is laid down centre. Sandy appears at the top of the stairs. On seeing no one about, he comes down quickly and furtively helps himself to eggs and bacon and coffee, and seats himself at the table. He eats very hurriedly, casting occasional glances over his shoulder. A door bangs somewhere upstairs, which terrifies him; he chokes violently. When he has recovered, he tears a bit of toast from a rack, butters it and marmalades it, and crams it into his mouth. Then, hearing somebody approaching, he darts into the library. Jackie comes downstairs timorously; her expression is dismal, to say the least of it. She looks miserably out of the window at the pouring rain, then, assuming an air of spurious bravado, she helps herself to some breakfast and sits down and looks at it. After one or two attempts to eat it, she bursts into tears. Sandy opens the library door a crack, and peeps out. Jackie, seeing the door move, screams. Sandy reenters. |
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| Jackie | Oh, it’s only you—you frightened me! |
| Sandy | What’s the matter? |
| Jackie | Sniffing. Nothing. |
| Sandy | I say, don’t cry. |
| Jackie | I’m not crying. |
| Sandy | You were—I heard you. |
| Jackie | It’s this house. It gets on my nerves. |
| Sandy | I don’t wonder—after last night. |
| Jackie | What were you doing in the library just now? |
| Sandy | Hiding. |
| Jackie | Hiding? |
| Sandy | Yes; I didn’t want to run up against any of the family. |
| Jackie | I wish I’d never come. I had horrible nightmares with all those fearful dragons crawling across the wall. |
| Sandy | Dragons? |
| Jackie | Yes; I’m in a Japanese room—everything in it’s Japanese, even the bed. |
| Sandy | How awful! |
| Jackie | I believe they’re all mad, you know. |
| Sandy | The Blisses? |
| Jackie | Yes—they must be. |
| Sandy | I’ve been thinking that too. |
| Jackie | Do you suppose they know they’re mad? |
| Sandy | No; people never do. |
| Jackie | It was Mr. Bliss asked me down, and he hasn’t paid any attention to me at all. I went into his study soon after I arrived yesterday, and he said, “Who the hell are you?” |
| Sandy | Didn’t he remember? |
| Jackie | He did afterwards; then he brought me down to tea and left me. |
| Sandy | Are you really engaged to Simon? |
| Jackie | Bursting into tears again. Oh, no—I hope not! |
| Sandy | You were, last night. |
| Jackie | So were you—to Sorel. |
| Sandy | Not properly. We talked it over. |
| Jackie | I don’t know what happened to me. I was in the garden with Simon, and he was being awfully sweet, and then he suddenly kissed me, and rushed into the house and said we were engaged—and that hateful Judith asked me to make him happy! |
| Sandy | That’s exactly what happened to me and Sorel. Judith gave us to one another before we knew where we were. |
| Jackie | How frightful! |
| Sandy | I like Sorel, though; she was jolly decent about it afterwards. |
| Jackie | I think she’s a cat. |
| Sandy | Why? |
| Jackie | Look at the way she lost her temper over that beastly game. |
| Sandy | All the same, she’s better than the others. |
| Jackie | That wouldn’t be very difficult. |
| Sandy | Hic! |
| Jackie | I beg your pardon? |
| Sandy | Abashed. I say—I’ve got hiccups. |
| Jackie | Hold your breath. |
| Sandy | It was because I bolted my breakfast. He holds his breath. |
| Jackie | Hold it as long as you can. |
| There is a pause. | |
| Sandy | Letting his breath go with a gasp. I can’t any more—hic! |
| Jackie | Eat a lump of sugar. |
| Sandy | Taking one. I’m awfully sorry. |
| Jackie | I don’t mind—but it’s a horrid feeling, isn’t it? |
| Sandy | Horrid—hic! |
| Jackie | Conversationally. People have died from hiccups, you know. |
| Sandy | Gloomily. Have they? |
| Jackie | Yes. An aunt of mine once had them for three days without stopping. |
| Sandy | How beastly. |
| Jackie | With relish. She had to have the doctor, and everything. |
| Sandy | I expect mine will stop soon. |
| Jackie | I hope they will. |
| Sandy | Hic!—There! |
| Jackie | Drink some water the wrong way round. |
| Sandy | How do you mean—the wrong way round? |
| Jackie | Rising. The wrong side of the glass. I’ll show you. She goes to side table. There isn’t any water. |
| Sandy | Perhaps coffee would do as well. |
| Jackie | I’ve never tried coffee, but it might. She pours him out some. There you are. |
| Sandy | Anxiously. What do I do? |
| Jackie | Tip it up and drink from the opposite side, sort of upside down. |
| Sandy | Trying. I can’t reach any— |
| Jackie | Suddenly. Look out—somebody’s coming. Bring it into the library—quick. … |
| Sandy | Bring the sugar—I might need it again—hic! Oh God! |
| Jackie | All right. |
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They go off into the library hurriedly. Richard comes downstairs. He glances round a trifle anxiously; then, pulling himself together, he goes boldly to the barometer and taps it. It falls off the wall and breaks; he picks it up quickly and places it on the piano. Then he helps himself to some breakfast, and sits down. Myra appears on the stairs, very smart and bright. |
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| Myra | Vivaciously. Good morning. |
| Richard | Good morning. |
| Myra | Are we the first down? |
| Richard | No, I don’t think so. |
| Myra | Looking out of the window. Isn’t this rain miserable? |
| Richard | Appalling! |
| Myra | Where’s the barometer? |
| Richard | On the piano. |
| Myra | What a queer place for it to be. |
| Richard | I tapped it, and it fell down. |
| Myra | Typical of this house. At side table. Are you having eggs and bacon, or haddock? |
| Richard | Haddock. |
| Myra | I’ll have haddock too. I simply couldn’t strike out a line for myself this morning. She helps herself to haddock and coffee, and sits down opposite Richard. Have you seen anybody? |
| Richard | No. |
| Myra | Good. We might have a little peace. |
| Richard | Have you ever stayed here before? |
| Myra | No, and I never will again. |
| Richard | I feel far from well this morning. |
| Myra | I’m so sorry, but not entirely surprised. |
| Richard | You see, I had the boiler room. |
| Myra | How terrible! |
| Richard | The window stuck, and I couldn’t open it—I was nearly suffocated. The pipes made peculiar noises all night, as well. |
| Myra | There isn’t any sugar. |
| Richard | Oh—we’d better ring. |
| Myra | I doubt if it will be the slightest use, but we’ll try. |
| Richard | Ringing and ringing bell. Do the whole family have breakfast in bed? |
| Myra | I neither know—nor care. |
| Richard | They’re strange people, aren’t they? |
| Myra | I think “strange” is putting it mildly. |
| Enter Clara. | |
| Clara | What’s the matter? |
| Myra | There isn’t any sugar. |
| Clara | There is—I put it ’ere myself. |
| Myra | Perhaps you’d find it for us, then? |
| Clara | Searching. That’s very funny. I could ’ave sworn on me Bible oath I brought it in. |
| Myra | Well, it obviously isn’t here now. |
| Clara | Someone’s taken it—that’s what it is. |
| Richard | It seems a queer thing to do. |
| Myra | Do you think you could get us some more? |
| Clara | Oh, yes, I’ll fetch you some; but mark my words, there’s been some ’anky-panky somewhere. She goes out. |
| Myra | Clara is really more at home in a dressing-room than a house. |
| Richard | Was she Judith’s dresser? |
| Myra | Of course. What other excuse could there possibly be for her? |
| Richard | She seems good-natured, but quaint. |
| Myra | This haddock’s disgusting. |
| Richard | It isn’t very nice, is it? |
| Reenter Clara with sugar. She plumps it down. | |
| Clara | There you are, dear. |
| Myra | Thank you. |
| Clara | It’s a shame the weather’s changed—you might ’ave ’ad such fun up the river. |
| There comes the sound of a crash from the library, and a scream. | |
| What’s that? She opens the door. Come out! What are you doing? | |
| Jackie and Sandy enter, rather shamefaced. | |
| Jackie | Good morning. I’m afraid we’ve broken a coffee-cup. |
| Clara | Was there any coffee in it? |
| Sandy | Yes, a good deal. |
| Clara | Rushing into the library. Oh dear! all over the carpet! |
| Sandy | It was my fault. I’m most awfully sorry. |
| Clara reappears. | |
| Clara | How did you come to do it? |
| Jackie | Well, you see, he had the hiccups, and I was showing him how to drink upside down. |
| Myra | How ridiculous! |
| Clara | Well, thank ’Eaven it wasn’t one of the Crown Derbys. She goes out. |
| Sandy | They’ve gone now, anyhow. |
| Jackie | It was the sudden shock, I expect. |
| Sandy | Observantly. I say—it’s raining! |
| Myra | It’s been raining for hours. |
| Richard | Mrs. Arundel— |
| Myra | Yes? |
| Richard | What are you going to do about—about today? |
| Myra | Nothing, except go up to London by the first train possible. |
| Richard | Do you mind if I come too? I don’t think I could face another day like yesterday. |
| Jackie | Neither could I. |
| Sandy | Eagerly. Let’s all go away—quietly! |
| Richard | Won’t it seem a little rude if we all go? |
| Myra | Yes it will. To Sandy. You and Miss Coryton must stay. |
| Jackie | I don’t see why. |
| Sandy | I don’t think they’d mind very much if we all went. |
| Myra | Yes, they would. You must let Mr. Greatham and me get away first, anyhow. Ring for Clara. I want to find out about trains. |
| Richard | I hope they won’t all come down now. |
| Myra | You needn’t worry about that; they’re sure to roll about in bed for hours—they’re such a slovenly family. |
| Richard | Have you got much packing to do? |
| Myra | No; I did most of it before I came down. |
| Reenter Clara. | |
| Clara | What is it now? |
| Myra | Can you tell me what trains there are up to London? |
| Clara | When? |
| Myra | This morning. |
| Clara | Why?—you’re not leaving, are you? |
| Myra | Yes; Mr. Greatham and I have to be up by lunchtime. |
| Clara | Well, you have missed the 10:15. |
| Myra | Obviously. |
| Clara | There isn’t another till 12:30. |
| Richard | Good heavens! |
| Clara | And that’s a slow one. She goes out. |
| Sandy | To Jackie. Look here; I’ll take you up in my car as soon as you like. |
| Jackie | All right; lovely! |
| Myra | You’ve got a car, haven’t you? |
| Sandy | Yes. |
| Myra | Will it hold all of us? |
| Jackie | You said it would be rude for us all to go. Hadn’t you and Mr. Greatham better wait for the train? |
| Myra | Certainly not. |
| Richard | To Sandy. If there is room, we should be very, very grateful. |
| Sandy | I think I can squeeze you in. |
| Myra | Then that’s settled, then. |
| Jackie | When shall we start? |
| Sandy | As soon as you’re ready. |
| Jackie | Mrs. Arundel, what are you going to do about tipping Clara? |
| Myra | I don’t know. To Richard. What do you think? |
| Richard | I’ve hardly seen her since I’ve been here. |
| Jackie | Isn’t there a housemaid or anything? |
| Richard | I don’t think so. |
| Sandy | Is ten bob enough? |
| Jackie | Each? |
| Myra | Too much. |
| Richard | We’d better give her one pound ten between us. |
| Myra | Very well, then. Will you do it, and we’ll settle up in the car? |
| Richard | Must I? |
| Myra | Yes. Ring for her. |
| Richard | You’d do it much better. |
| Sandy rings the bell. | |
| Myra | Oh, no, I shouldn’t. To Jackie. Come on; we’ll finish our packing. |
| Jackie | All right. |
| They begin to go upstairs. | |
| Richard | Here—don’t leave me. |
| Sandy | I’ll just go and look at the car. Will you all be ready in ten minutes? |
| Myra | Yes, ten minutes. She goes off with Jackie. |
| Sandy | Righto. He rushes out. |
| Clara reenters. | |
| Clara | ’Allo, where’s everybody gone? |
| Richard | They’ve gone to get ready. We’re leaving in Mr. Tyrell’s car. |
| Clara | A bit sudden, isn’t it? |
| Richard | Pressing money into her hand. This is from all of us, Clara. Thank you very much for all your trouble. |
| Clara | Surprised. Aren’t you a dear, now! There wasn’t any trouble. |
| Richard | There must have been a lot of extra work. |
| Clara | One gets used to that ’ere. |
| Richard | Goodbye, Clara. He goes upstairs. |
| Clara proceeds to clear away the dirty breakfast things, which she takes out. She returns with a fresh pot of coffee, and meets Judith coming downstairs. | |
| Judith | Good morning, Clara. Have the papers come? |
| Clara | Yes—I’ll fetch them. She goes out. |
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Judith pours herself out some coffee, and sits down. Clara reenters with papers. |
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| Judith | Thank you. You’ve forgotten my orange juice. |
| Clara | No, I ’aven’t, dear; it’s just outside. She goes out again. |
| Judith turns to the theatrical column of the Sunday Times. Sorel comes downstairs and kisses her. | |
| Sorel | Good morning, darling. |
| Judith | Listen to this. She reads. “We saw Judith Bliss in a box at the Haymarket on Tuesday, looking as lovely as ever.” There now! I thought I looked hideous on Tuesday. |
| Sorel | You looked sweet. She goes to get herself some breakfast. |
| Clara reappears, with a glass of orange juice. | |
| Clara | Placing it in front of Judith. Did you see that nice bit in The Referee? |
| Judith | No—The Times. |
| Clara | The Referee’s much better. She finds the place and hands it to Sorel. |
| Sorel | Reading. “I saw gay and colourful Judith Bliss at the Waifs and Strays Matinée last week. She was talking vivaciously to Producer Basil Dean. ‘I’ sooth,’ said I to myself, ‘where ignorance is Bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.’ ” |
| Judith | Taking it from her. Dear Referee! It’s so unselfconscious. |
| Clara | If you want any more coffee, ring for it. She goes out. |
| Sorel | Sitting down. I wish I were sitting on a lovely South Sea island, with masses of palm trees and coconuts and turtles— |
| Judith | It would be divine, wouldn’t it? |
| Sorel | I wonder where everybody is? |
| Judith | Still reading. I wonder. … Mary Saunders has got another failure. |
| Sorel | She must be used to it by now. |
| Simon comes downstairs with a rush. | |
| Simon | Kissing Judith. Good morning, darling.—Look! He shows her a newly completed sketch. |
| Judith | Simon! How lovely! When did you do it? |
| Simon | This morning—I woke early. |
| Sorel | Rising and craning over Judith’s shoulder. Let’s see. |
| Simon | Over the other shoulder. I’m going to alter Helen’s face; it’s too pink. |
| Sorel | Laughing. It’s exactly like her. |
| Judith | What a clever son I have! |
| Simon | Now then, Mother! |
| Judith | It’s too wonderful—when I think of you both in your perambulators. … Oh dear, it makes me cry! She sniffs. |
| Sorel | I don’t believe you ever saw us in our perambulators. |
| Judith | I don’t believe I did. |
| David comes downstairs. | |
| David | Hilariously. It’s finished! |
| Judith | What, dear? |
| David | The Sinful Woman. |
| Judith | How splendid. Read it to us now. |
| David | I’ve got the last chapter here. |
| Judith | Go on, then. |
| Sandy rushes in from the front door. On seeing everyone, he halts. | |
| Sandy | Good morning. He bolts upstairs two at a time. |
| Judith | I seem to know that boy’s face. |
| David | Preparing to read. Listen. You remember when Violet was taken ill in Paris? |
| Judith | Yes, dear.—Marmalade, Simon. |
| David | Well, I’ll go on from there. |
| Judith | Do, dear. |
| David | Reading. “Paris in spring, with the Champs Élysées alive and dancing in the sunlight; lightly dressed children like gay painted butterflies—” |
| Simon | Whispering to Sorel. What’s happened to the barometer? |
| Sorel | Sibilantly. I don’t know. |
| David | Damn the barometer! |
| Judith | Don’t get cross, dear. |
| David | Why can’t you keep quiet, Simon, or go away! |
| Simon | Sorry, Father. |
| David | Well, don’t interrupt again. … Reading. “… gay painted butterflies; the streets were thronged with hurrying vehicles, the thin peek-peek of taxi-hooters—” |
| Sorel | I love “peek-peek.” |
| David | Ignoring her. “—seemed to merge in with the other vivid noises weaving a vast pattern of sound which was Paris. Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano, swept out of the Rue St.-Honoré into the Place de la Concorde—” |
| Judith | She couldn’t have. |
| David | Why? |
| Judith | The Rue St.-Honoré doesn’t lead into the Place de la Concorde. |
| David | Yes, it does. |
| Sorel | You’re thinking of the Rue Boissy d’Anglas, Father. |
| David | I’m not thinking of anything of the sort. |
| Judith | David darling, don’t be obstinate. |
| David | Hotly. Do you think I don’t know Paris as well as you do? |
| Simon | Never mind. Father’s probably right. |
| Sorel | He isn’t right—he’s wrong! |
| David | Go on with your food, Sorel. |
| Judith | Don’t be testy, David: it’s a sign of age. |
| David | Firmly. “Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano, swept out of the Rue St.-Honoré into the Place de la Concorde—” |
| Judith | That sounds absolutely ridiculous. Why don’t you alter it? |
| David | It isn’t ridiculous; it’s perfectly right. |
| Judith | Very well, then; get a map, and I’ll show you. |
| Simon | We haven’t got a map. |
| David | Putting his MS. down. Now, look here, Judith—here’s the Rue Royale—He arranges the butter-dish and marmalade-pot.—here’s the Crillon Hotel, and here’s the Rue St.-Honoré— |
| Judith | It isn’t—it’s the Boissy d’Anglas. |
| David | That runs parallel with the Rue de Rivoli. |
| Judith | You’ve got it all muddled. |
| David | Loudly. I have not got it all muddled. |
| Judith | Don’t shout. You have. |
| Simon | Why not let Father get on with it? |
| Judith | It’s so silly to get cross at criticism—it indicates a small mind. |
| David | Small mind my foot! |
| Judith | That was very rude. I shall go to my room in a minute. |
| David | I wish you would. |
| Judith | Outraged. David! |
| Sorel | Look here, Father, Mother’s right—here’s the Place de la Concorde— |
| Simon | Oh, shut up, Sorel. |
| Sorel | Shut up yourself, you pompous little beast. |
| Simon | You think you know such a lot about everything, and you’re as ignorant as a frog. |
| Sorel | Why a frog? |
| Judith | I give you my solemn promise, David, that you’re wrong. |
| David | I don’t want your solemn promise, because I know I’m right. |
| Simon | It’s no use arguing with Father, Mother. |
| Sorel | Why isn’t it any use arguing with Father? |
| Simon | Because you’re both so pigheaded! |
| David | Are you content to sit here, Judith, and let your son insult me? |
| Judith | He’s your son as well as mine. |
| David | I begin to doubt it. |
| Judith | Bursting into tears of rage. David! |
| Simon | Consoling her. Father, how can you! |
| David | Rising. I’ll never attempt to read any of you anything again as long as I live. You’re not a bit interested in my work, and you don’t give a damn whether I’m a success or a failure. |
| Judith | You’re dead certain to be a failure if you cram your books with inaccuracies. |
| David | Hammering the table with his fist. I am not inaccurate! |
| Judith | Yes, you are; and you’re foul-tempered and spoilt. |
| David | Spoilt! I like that! Nobody here spoils me—you’re the most insufferable family to live with— |
| Judith | Well, why in Heaven’s name don’t you go and live somewhere else? |
| David | There’s gratitude! |
| Judith | Gratitude for what, I’d like to know? |
| Sorel | Mother, keep calm. |
| Judith | Calm! I’m furious. |
| David | What have you got to be furious about? Everyone rushing round adoring you and saying how wonderful you are— |
| Judith | I am wonderful, Heaven knows, to have stood you for all these years. |
| Sorel | Mother, do sit down and be quiet. |
| Simon | How dare you speak to Mother like that! |
| During this scene Myra, Jackie, Richard and Sandy creep downstairs, with their bags, unperceived by the family. They make for the front door. | |
| Judith | Wailing. Oh, oh! To think that my daughter should turn against me! |
| David | Don’t be theatrical. |
| Judith | I’m not theatrical—I’m wounded to the heart. |
| David | Rubbish—rubbish—rubbish! |
| Judith | Don’t you say Rubbish to me! |
| David | I will say Rubbish! |
| Sorel | Ssshhh, Father! |
| Simon | That’s right! Be the dutiful daughter and encourage your father— |
| David | Listen to me, Judith— |
| Judith | Oh, this is dreadful—dreadful! |
| Sorel | The whole thing doesn’t really matter in the least— |
| Simon | —to insult your mother— |
| David | The Place de la Concorde— |
| Judith | I never realised how small you were, David. You’re tiny— |
| The universal pandemonium is suddenly broken by the front door slamming. There is dead silence for a moment, then the noise of a car is heard. Sorel runs and looks out of the window. | |
| Simon | There now! |
| Sorel | They’ve all gone! |
| Judith | Sitting down. How very rude! |
| David | Also sitting down. People really do behave in the most extraordinary manner these days— |
| Judith | Come back and finish your breakfast, Sorel. |
| Sorel | All right. She sits down. |
| Simon | Toast, please, Sorel. |
| Sorel | Passing it to him. Here. |
| Judith | Go on, David; I’m dying to hear the end— |
| David | Reading. “Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano, swept out of the Rue Boissy d’Anglas into the Place Vêndome—” |
| Judith | I meant to tell you before, David—I’ve made a great decision. |
| David | Amiably. What is it? |
| Judith | I really am going to return to the stage! |
| Curtain. |