Chapter VI: Act II

_Saturday. About five o’clock._ HESTER _and_ HECTOR _are outside;
we hear their voices_. MARY _is telling them that her mistress is
out. She opens the door, and they come in._

HESTER. Oh! Then will you tell your master we’re here?

MARY. Yes, madam. I think he’s just come in.

HESTER. Where has your mistress gone?

MARY. She has gone up to London, madam.

HESTER. London!

MARY. Yes, madam.

HESTER. When do you expect her back?

MARY. She didn’t say, madam. She had a dressing-case with her, but she didn’t say she was staying the night.

HESTER. A dressing-case!

MARY. Yes, madam. I’ll tell the master you’re here.

[_She goes out._

HESTER. London. She didn’t say anything about London last night, did she?

HECTOR. Nothing. It’s very odd.

HESTER. I wonder if----

HECTOR. What?

HESTER. She was telling us after dinner, before you came in, that her uncle----

HECTOR. The General?

HESTER. Yes--was suffering from indigestion very badly. We happened to be talking about illnesses.

HECTOR. You think that a sudden fatal stroke--fatal spasm, perhaps I should say----

HESTER. Being Saturday it looks like something urgent.

HECTOR. Evidently.

HESTER. If it had been Wednesday, it wouldn’t have been so surprising.

HECTOR. The General, no doubt.... I suppose he’s pretty comfortably off?

HESTER. He has his pension, of course.

HECTOR. But that would die with him. Anything to leave? Anything to come in Ariadne’s direction?

HESTER. I shouldn’t think so. She would have told us.

HECTOR. Ariadne’s queer in some ways. It would be just like her not to have said anything about it.

(HESTER _sees the letter on the mantelpiece_.)

HESTER. Ah, there you are!

HECTOR. What?

HESTER. A note for John. (_She picks it up._)

HECTOR. From Ariadne?

HESTER. Yes. Called away suddenly, you see.

HECTOR (_going up to examine the envelope_). Now what would you say that meant? (_He gives the matter his full consideration._) I see it like this. If the General’s attack had actually been fatal, she would have rung John up at his office.

HESTER. He would have gone with her in that case.

HECTOR. That may be. He is very busy just now. The point is that she would have rung him up. Leaving a note makes it clear that, whatever has happened to the General, it is no more than a preliminary warning.

HESTER (_looking at the envelope_). Sprawly handwriting.

(JOHN _comes in, and they back hastily away from the letter_.)

JOHN. Hullo!

HESTER. Ah, here you are.

(JOHN _kisses her and shakes hands solemnly with_ HECTOR.)

JOHN. Didn’t expect you to-day. I had to go over to Handfield. Only just got back.

HESTER. I’ve heard of a cook for Ariadne--so I just----

HECTOR. I thought I’d just walk round with her, and pass the time of day.

HESTER. She’s gone to London, I hear.

JOHN. Yes.

HECTOR. No bad news from the General, I trust.

JOHN. The General?

HECTOR. We supposed that she must have been called away suddenly.

JOHN. Oh no. Shopping!

HESTER. On a Saturday?

JOHN. She particularly wanted to go. I suggested that she should wait till Wednesday.

HECTOR. Exactly! That was what misled us.

HESTER. But the shops would be shut on Saturday afternoon.... Besides, why stay the night?

JOHN (_surprised_). But she’s not staying the night.

HESTER. Oh, well, Mary said----

HECTOR. Her dressing-case----

HESTER. There’s a note for you.

JOHN. What? Oh yes! (_He goes to it._) She caught a very early train.

HESTER. Oh, well! But it’s a funny day to go.

HECTOR (_taking out his pocket time-table_). The 10.15, I suppose. Let me see, if she caught the 10.15--they’ve altered it now. It used to run into King’s Cross at---- Here we are--10.15. Runs into King’s Cross at----

JOHN. Good God!

HESTER. What is it, John?

HECTOR (_resigned_). Ah! He _is_ dead.

JOHN. It’s impossible!

HECTOR. Not impossible, my dear boy. Inevitable, alas! But none the less distressing.

JOHN. Ariadne!

HESTER. What is it, John? Let me look. (_She takes the letter from him._)

JOHN. It’s ridiculous!

HECTOR. Well, but what is it, my dear boy? (_Trying to get at the letter_) May I----

HESTER. Good gracious!

HECTOR. May I be allowed----

HESTER. Had you any idea of this?

JOHN. Is it likely?

HECTOR. Might I----

HESTER. But _why_?

JOHN. Why, indeed!

HECTOR. _Might_ I be allowed---- (_He gets the letter at last. They watch him reading it._) Merciful heavens!

JOHN. I don’t believe it.

HECTOR. My old friend Horace Meldrum!

HESTER. She doesn’t actually say Mr. Meldrum.

HECTOR. True. Let us be fair. She just says Horace. “Horace and I are going into the unknown together. Do not try to follow us.” But if it is not Horace Meldrum, who can it be?

HESTER (_to_ JOHN). Did she know any other Horace?

HECTOR. There _are_ no other Horaces.

JOHN. Not that I know of. But it can’t be Meldrum. That’s impossible.

HECTOR (_turning over the letter_). Ah, a postscript! This may throw more light on the matter.

JOHN. A postscript?

HESTER (_trying to look over his shoulder_). I didn’t see that.

HECTOR. “P.S. I am putting this against the clock so that you will be sure to see it.” That, at any rate, shows thoughtfulness.

JOHN (_bitterly_). Ha! (_To_ HECTOR) Here, give it me! (_He takes the letter._)

HESTER. Why do you say it can’t be Mr. Meldrum?

JOHN. She hates him. She told me so only yesterday.

HESTER. Ah!

HECTOR. Hate and love! You know what the old adage says. Love and Hate--I forget the actual wording.

JOHN (_fiercely_). I tell you she hated him. She thought he was a bounder.

HECTOR (_staggered_). My old friend Horace Meldrum a bounder!

JOHN. A bounder, I tell you! A cad! That’s not love!

HESTER. It might be deception.

HECTOR. You think she was just throwing dust in his eyes? It may be so.

JOHN (_going to the door_). I’ll ring up Meldrum now. I’ll prove it to you----

HECTOR (_suddenly_). John! My poor John!

JOHN (_turning back at the door_). What?

HECTOR. To think that it should have escaped my memory!

HESTER. What? You never told me.

HECTOR. How can I have been so foolish! I called in to see Horace Meldrum earlier this afternoon on a small matter of business----

JOHN (_eagerly_). Well?

HECTOR. I was told that he had gone to London.

JOHN. Good God!

HESTER. Are you sure, Hector?

HECTOR. My dear, how can I be mistaken now that it comes back to me?

HESTER. Well, that’s odd certainly.

JOHN. Perhaps Ariadne didn’t go herself, after all. Perhaps she has just gone out somewhere in the town.

HESTER. Mary told us she had gone to London.

JOHN. Did she?... What were you saying about a dressing-case?

HECTOR. Taking, according to Mary, a dressing-case with her.

HESTER. Why should she do that?

HECTOR. And not on a Wednesday, mark you, but a Saturday!

HESTER. On the excuse of doing some shopping.

JOHN. Mary told you, you say. Well, I’ll make sure of that anyway. (_He strides across the room and rings the bell._)

HECTOR. Steady, dear boy, steady!

HESTER. Don’t bring the servants into it until you have to, John.

JOHN. Yes, that’s true.... But I’ve rung.

HECTOR (_holding up a large white hand_). Allow me to deal with it.

[_He goes out and is heard dealing with it._

HESTER. I’m always so frightened of the servants knowing anything.

HECTOR (_outside_). Have you--ah, it’s all right, thank you. I thought I had mislaid a small parcel. Yes, that was all, thank you. (_He comes in with a brown paper bag which he puts down_) Don’t let me forget that, dear, when we go. (_To_ JOHN) A small pine for dessert to-morrow.

HESTER. Well, they both went to London. That seems certain.

JOHN. Why shouldn’t they both go to London?

HECTOR. Why not? But you have her letter, and you have the corroborative evidence of the dressing-case and the absence of Meldrum. We must reconcile ourselves to the facts.

JOHN. The letter, yes. (_He reads it again._)

HESTER. What is it she says about some disagreement with you?

HECTOR. Yes, she brought _me_ into it there.

HESTER (_taking the letter_). May I? (_Reading it_) Yes, this. “We are poles asunder, as Hector would say, on the most vitally important thing in life.”

HECTOR. Why as _I_ would say? I don’t recollect ever using the phrase.

HESTER. The most vitally important thing in life. (_Giving him back the letter_) What was that, John?

HECTOR. Some money trouble? The question of her allowance?

JOHN. No, no. She knows I never grudged her anything. This comes out of a clear sky.

HECTOR. I understand, my dear fellow; a thunderbolt from the blue.

JOHN. There was the usual give and take of married life, of course. But she was happy. You saw her last night. Wouldn’t you have said she was as happy as--well, as anybody else?

HESTER. She seemed much as usual, certainly.

(_There is a short silence._)

JOHN (_suddenly_). Why, of course!

HESTER. What?

JOHN. That letter.

HECTOR. You have it.

JOHN. No, the one he wrote to her.

HESTER. When? You haven’t told us of this.

JOHN. Last night--he sent those flowers and a letter.

HECTOR. Flowers and a letter! Now we are getting to something tangible. What did the letter say?

JOHN. I didn’t read it.

HESTER. Well, but she may have left it somewhere.

JOHN (_awkwardly_). No. I--she tore it up.

HESTER. In here?

JOHN. Yes. (_He goes to the basket, looks in it, then rings the bell_) Cleared away, of course.

HESTER. John, what are you doing?

HECTOR. Steady, dear boy, steady.

JOHN. They have the waste paper in the kitchen, I suppose. What happens to it?

HESTER. But you can’t ask the servants about a torn-up letter.

JOHN. Why not? A business letter accidentally thrown away----

HESTER. No, no! It’s so--you can’t. They will guess.

JOHN. They’ll guess soon enough if every time I ring the bell I have to send out Hector to make an excuse for it.

HESTER (_proudly_). Hector will think of something _without_ going out this time.

HECTOR. Er--yes--er----(_The door opens and he hastily whispers to_ JOHN.)

MARY. Did you ring, sir?

JOHN. A whisky and soda for Mr. Chadwick.

MARY. Yes, sir.

[_She goes out._

HECTOR (_apologetically_). On the spur of the moment, and seeing what a warm day it is----

HESTER. In any case, John, she saw him last night. Were they alone together after we’d gone?

JOHN (_reluctantly_). Ye--yes. I saw Janet home, you know.

HESTER. Of course. Then there you are!

(_They are all silent, thinking._ JOHN _looks at his watch and
automatically looks at the clock_.)

HECTOR (_keeping all their spirits up_). The old clock keeping pretty good time? (_But, for once, nobody minds._)

JOHN (_suddenly_). I shall go to London.

HECTOR. Ah!

HESTER. What can you do there?

JOHN. Make inquiries at her club. Something. Anything.

HECTOR. Her club. Come! This gives us a starting-point. We must explore every avenue. Her club. (_He thinks._)

HESTER (_for it still rankles_). Why did she ever want a club--in London?

JOHN. She said she was going to lunch there. I could find that out anyhow.

HECTOR (_with great presence of mind_). Tsss! (MARY _is coming in with the whisky. He hurries forward to take charge of it._) Thank you. (_Bottle in hand_) John?

[MARY _goes out_.

JOHN. No, no.

HECTOR (_pouring himself out one_). You won’t mind if _I_ do? You won’t think it unfeeling?

HESTER. Of course not, Hector, how could he think so?

HECTOR (_raising glass_). I can only say, in the most profound meaning of the phrase--Here’s luck!

JOHN. I can catch the--what is it--5.30?

HECTOR (_dropping his glass and whipping out his time-table_). Just a moment. 5.29, isn’t it?

HESTER. It seems so hopeless.

JOHN. Good God! What else can I do? Must do something.

HECTOR (_proudly_). 5.29, I thought so.

HESTER. Suppose you find them together?

JOHN. I’ll break his damned neck for him.

HESTER. No, no, John, nothing rash.

HECTOR (_still on the 5.29_). John was speaking metaphorically, dear.

HESTER. Hadn’t Hector better go with you?

HECTOR. I am at your service, my dear fellow. Very fortunate that it has all happened at a week-end. There are no rival claims of business. The 5.29 runs in at----

JOHN. No, no, I can’t bother Hector.

HECTOR. It would be a pleasure--a melancholy pleasure. I shall engage Horace Meldrum in conversation, while you----

JOHN. While I break his neck.

HECTOR. I was going to say, “While you reason with Ariadne.” ... Runs in at....

JOHN. Put it how you like. Only for God’s sake come on.

(_He takes_ HECTOR’S _arm and marches him to the door. The door
opens and_ ARIADNE _comes in_. JOHN _and_ HECTOR _draw back in
amazement_.)

JOHN (_carried away for the moment_). Ariadne! My darling!

ARIADNE. John!

HECTOR. Well, well, well!

JOHN (_sternly, remembering that he is an injured husband_). Where have you been?

HECTOR. You may well ask!

ARIADNE. Running away from you, John.

JOHN. Then what are you doing here now?

ARIADNE. I have come back to you, John. (_She sits down._)

JOHN (_angry at the fright he has had_). It was just a joke, was it, your letter?

HECTOR. A joke in very doubtful taste. In more than doubtful taste.

HESTER. If it _was_ a joke.

ARIADNE (_looking at them_). You have shown them my letter?

HECTOR. We know all.

JOHN. What could I--they were here. Do you think I can read a letter like that, and put it calmly in my pocket, as if nothing had happened?

ARIADNE. No, no, of course not, dear.

HESTER. Dear!

HECTOR. Have you any right to call him “dear,” that is the question.

ARIADNE (_reproachfully_). I only ran away this morning, Hector.

HECTOR. True, true. Nothing could have----Quite so, quite so.

JOHN. You _have_ been to London?

ARIADNE. Yes.

JOHN. And why have you come back now?

ARIADNE. He missed his train.

JOHN. Who?

ARIADNE. The gentleman I was running away with.

HECTOR. Meldrum. My old friend Horace Meldrum.

JOHN (_fiercely_). Was it Meldrum? Where is Meldrum?

ARIADNE. He missed his train.

JOHN. What do you mean? You say here in your letter----(_He turns it over, trying to find the place._)

ARIADNE. Let me find it for you, dear.

JOHN (_refusing her offer_). Here it is. “Horace and I,” that’s Meldrum?

ARIADNE. Of course. (_Surprised_) You haven’t any other friends called Horace?

HECTOR. The very point I made. Do you remember, Hester?

JOHN. “Horace and I are going into the unknown together. Do not try to follow us.”

ARIADNE. Yes, that’s right.

JOHN. Well?

ARIADNE. Darling, I keep telling you. He missed his train. The 12.5.

HECTOR (_as if he now understood it all_). The 12.5. Ah! (_He nods his head solemnly. A dangerous train._)

JOHN. But I don’t see----

ARIADNE. When you arrange to go into the unknown with a woman by a certain train, you can’t just go and _miss_ the train. It’s so careless.

HESTER. You could have gone by the next.

ARIADNE (_carelessly_). I expect he did. I daresay he is searching London for me now.... Ring the bell, Hector, will you? I am dying for some tea.

HECTOR (_indignantly_). Tea! (_But he rings the bell._)

ARIADNE (_sweetly_). I’ve been going backwards and forwards all day.

JOHN. I am afraid I am still very stupid. Meldrum, as I understand it, was to have gone with you to London by the 12.5 train?

ARIADNE. No, no. I had gone by the 10.15. He was to come up later and call for me at my club.

HECTOR. Her club. You see, Hester, we were right to make that the starting-point.

JOHN. And he was coming up by the 12.5?

ARIADNE. Yes. Only he missed it.

HECTOR. Presumably he was detained by some business----

ARIADNE. Presumably. (_Enter_ MARY.) Tea, please, Mary. (_To them all_) Have you had any?

HESTER. Is it likely?

HECTOR. Tsss! (_He indicates the maid._)

ARIADNE. You waited for me. How nice of you! Tea for four.

MARY. Yes, madam.

[_She goes out._

ARIADNE. I am sorry, dear. You were saying that Horace was probably detained by business.

JOHN. Well?

ARIADNE. Well, you see, if a man is detained by business when you are going to watch a cricket match with him, that doesn’t matter so much, but if he is detained by business when you are running away with him--well, ask Hester.

HECTOR. My dear lady!

HESTER (_coldly_). I have never run away from my husband.

ARIADNE. But you must often have wanted to. I am sorry, Hector, but--_any_ husband.... (_To_ HESTER) How would you feel if just as you had worked yourself up to it, you got a telegram “Missed train.” Just like that. “Missed train.” It’s so--so uncomplimentary. Wouldn’t you feel that if he had really loved you, he would have run the whole way to London _behind_ the train, rather than waste a moment sending telegrams?

JOHN. That’s absurd.

ARIADNE. Oh, of course, if you are going to stand up for him----

JOHN (_indignantly_). I am doing nothing of the sort! I merely say----

ARIADNE. And I merely say that when you are running away with a woman it’s an insult to her to miss the train.

HECTOR. He might have only _just_ missed it.

ARIADNE. Then he should have taken a special, shouldn’t he, Hester?

HESTER (_unwillingly_). Well, certainly, it would have shown a more----

ARIADNE. There you are! Hester feels just as I do.

HESTER (_indignantly_). I feel nothing of the sort!

ARIADNE (_coaxingly_). A little bit.

HECTOR. A special! Do you know how much a special costs?

ARIADNE. Ah, now we’re talking! How much does a special cost, John?

JOHN (_absently_). Fifty pounds? (_Furiously_) I don’t know! (_This is not in the least how he had meant the scene to go._)

ARIADNE. I thought solicitors knew all those things.

HECTOR. Every penny of fifty pounds!

ARIADNE. And what am I worth? About twenty? Oh, ridiculous of him to have taken a special! Most unbusiness-like. Ariadne’s one thing, but fifty _pounds_!

JOHN (_now entirely lost_). Really! I don’t think----

HECTOR (_warningly_). Tsss! (MARY _comes in to prepare the tea_. HECTOR _becomes tactful_.) You came back by the 3.10, I suppose? Did you have a good day’s shopping?

ARIADNE (_smiling to herself_). I did all I wanted.

HESTER. Such a good train, the 3.10.

HECTOR. I always say it’s the best down train we have.

ARIADNE. I say it a good deal, but not so often as that.

HECTOR. Excellent train, don’t you think so, John?

ARIADNE. The 12.5 is a very good train _up_ to London--if you can catch it.

HECTOR (_uncomfortably_). Quite so, quite so.

(MARY _has now gone_.)

ARIADNE. Let’s see, where were we?

HESTER. She’ll be coming in again directly with the tea.

ARIADNE. What shall we do? Go on talking about trains till she comes in and goes out again, or go on now, and then get back to the trains when----

JOHN (_sharply_). What do the servants know? What did you say to them when you went off this morning?

ARIADNE. Just that I was going up to London to do a little shopping.

HECTOR. Ah! the very impression I was endeavouring to give Mary just now.

JOHN. Shopping with a dressing-case?

ARIADNE. Well, I might have been taking a dress up to be cleaned or something. Mightn’t I, Hester?

HESTER. They wouldn’t have guessed anything yet. But servants always know the sort of woman you are. You can never hide _that_ from them.

ARIADNE. Only from husbands.

JOHN. Well, if they don’t know, that’s something to start with. I was afraid----

HECTOR (_always ready_). Tsss!

MARY _comes in with the tea_.

ARIADNE (_with an air_). I went up by the 10.15. Another good train.

HECTOR. I always say that the few trains we have are _good_. Only what we want is _more_. Quantity as well as quality.

ARIADNE. How true!

HECTOR. When you get into Parliament, John, you’ll have to see to that.

ARIADNE. Thank you, Mary.

[MARY _goes out_.

Now then, we’re quite safe unless somebody comes and calls. Perhaps I had better tell Mary that I am not at home?

JOHN (_impatiently_). Nobody will call. The position then is this: you had arranged to go off with Meldrum. You were to go first, and he was to follow you by a certain train?

ARIADNE. Yes, dear. Tea, Hester?

JOHN (_violently_). Oh, damn the tea! Tea, tea, tea! How can we settle anything when you’re always talking about tea?

ARIADNE (_soothingly_). The sooner we start drinking it, the sooner we shall stop talking about it. Hester?

HESTER (_haughtily_). No, thank you.

ARIADNE (_coldly_). Hector, pass Hester a bun.

HESTER. I don’t want anything, thank you.

ARIADNE. Hector? You do, don’t you?

HECTOR (_taking a cup_). Thank you. After all, it’s a stimulant. One wants to keep a very clear head. (_He takes a bun--another stimulant._)

ARIADNE. Did you say you wouldn’t have any, John?

JOHN (_gruffly_). No, thank you.

ARIADNE (_pouring herself a cup_). There! Now, then, where were we? Oh, yes--I was to go first and he was to follow me by a certain train. That’s right.

JOHN. And he didn’t follow you?

ARIADNE. Not by that train.

HECTOR. Let me see, if he missed the 12.5, he’d probably catch the----(_Out comes the time-table_) Now, then.

HESTER. What does it matter what train he went by?

HECTOR (_turning the pages rapidly with a moistened finger_). In a case like this nothing is immaterial.

JOHN. Well, then, you got a telegram at your club saying that he’d missed his train.

ARIADNE. And was coming by the next. (_Taking a telegram from her bag_) Here it is.

JOHN. Ah! (_He reads it._)

HECTOR. May I? (_He takes it and reads_) Ah! Handed in at Melchester Central, 12.20. Received Knightsbridge, 12.38. “Missed train. Expect me at three. Horace.”

JOHN. And what did you do?

HECTOR. One moment, dear boy. (_Returning to time-table)_ He would catch the 1.17. Runs into town--runs into town----(_He turns a page._)

JOHN (_his temper rising_). And what did you do, when you read the telegram?

ARIADNE. Came home again.

HECTOR. Change at West Hutton. I knew it wasn’t a good train. Yes, he ought to have caught the 12.5.

ARIADNE. He ought. That’s what I keep saying.

JOHN (_sarcastically_). And as he didn’t, you have decided that you don’t want to go into the unknown with him after all?

ARIADNE. No. It would be so very unknown if he kept on missing trains.

JOHN. Whereupon you come coolly back here, as if nothing had happened, and order tea?

ARIADNE. I was too excited to have lunch. Thinking of him.

JOHN. And now what do you propose to do?

ARIADNE (_at last saying the right thing_). Wait to hear what you propose to do with me, John.

JOHN. Ah!

HECTOR. Exactly. Now we are getting to grips with the problem. To take the possibilities. Divorce.

JOHN (_staggered_). Divorce?

HESTER. Rubbish!

HECTOR (_with dignity_). Divorce, I was about to say, is impossible.

ARIADNE. Not impossible, but very bad for business.

JOHN (_sharply_). Why not impossible?

ARIADNE. John! And you a solicitor! Is anything impossible to a really good solicitor? Think of me in the witness box! How your counsel would rend me! I wonder who you would brief.

HESTER. It’s absurd, anyway. We don’t want a divorce in the family.

ARIADNE. Of course we don’t.

HECTOR. So be it. We rule out divorce and come to the second alternative. Separation. Judicial or otherwise.

ARIADNE (_shaking her head_). So expensive.

HECTOR. What would a separation figure out at, John, all told?

(_It is as much as_ JOHN _can do not to shriek_.)

ARIADNE. I was thinking of the expense afterwards. It would mean two establishments for John. Even as it is, with me helping him by making love to his clients, we can only just keep this one going. Isn’t it so, John?

(_But at this_ JOHN _gives way altogether_.)

JOHN (_shouting_). What do you want? What do you think is going to happen? Do you think you can come back here----

HECTOR (_always helpful_). The past blotted out----

JOHN. Do you think you can go off as you please----

HECTOR (_still helping_). Here to-day and gone to-morrow.

JOHN. Do you think you can just go away and come back when you like----

HECTOR (_explanatorily_). Without so much as a with-your-leave or a by-your-leave----

JOHN (_swinging round on_ HECTOR). _Shut up!_

HESTER (_appalled_). John!

ARIADNE (_gleefully to herself_). He’s angry!

JOHN (_still shouting_). Why do _you_ come interfering? Can’t I manage my own affairs? You keep talking and talking and talking----

HECTOR. My dear John!

JOHN. I can’t say anything, but what you must say something----

HECTOR. I am dumbfounded.

JOHN (_almost crying_). Why can’t you leave me alone? She’s my wife, isn’t she?

ARIADNE (_under her breath_). Well done!

HECTOR (_to the world_). I am absolutely at a loss! In this very distressing business I am merely putting my brains, such as they are, at your disposal. And _this_ happens! I am absolutely at a loss!

HESTER (_hurrying to her wounded husband’s aid_). After all, John, you asked for our advice----

HECTOR. You took us into your confidence----

HESTER (_stroking her wounded husband’s head_). Hector only wants to help.

HECTOR (_sadly_). It is beyond me. I am out of my depth.

ARIADNE (_recalling_ JOHN _to the present_). Dear, Hector is out of his depth.

JOHN (_ashamed of himself_). I am sorry, Hector. (_He holds out his hand which_ HECTOR _shakes heartily_.)

HECTOR (_happily, the perfect gentleman_). Say no more, my dear fellow! An apology--between friends----

JOHN (_opening the door_). Would you mind? Forgive me, Hester. (HESTER _gets up and he shakes her hand._) I think perhaps Ariadne and I----It was very kind of you to----Perhaps to-morrow we may----Of course you won’t say anything until----

(_He has got them to the door._)

HESTER. That’s all right, John.

HECTOR (_vaguely_). An apology--between friends. (_Under his breath to_ HESTER) My dear, do we----(_He indicates saying good-bye to_ ARIADNE) No? Doubtful taste, perhaps. Perhaps better not. Quite so.

(JOHN _takes them out. While he is away_ ARIADNE _touches herself
up in front of the glass and comes back to her tea_.)

JOHN (_as he comes back_). Damn that fellow!

ARIADNE. Hector? Such a nice man.

JOHN. Gas-bag.

ARIADNE. It’s your brother-in-law. Your own sister’s husband, and making lots of money. You can’t call a man like that a gas-bag.

JOHN. Never mind that. (_Firmly. A husband and a solicitor_) Now then, Ariadne.

ARIADNE. Yes, John.

JOHN. I want some explanation of this. Why did you go away with that fellow?

ARIADNE. You told me to be nice to him.

JOHN. (_to Heaven_). _Nice_ to him!

ARIADNE. Yes, it was the nicest thing I could think of.

JOHN. And when your husband asks you to be friendly to a man who is a good client of his, that’s how you do it.

ARIADNE. Yes. When they don’t miss their train.

JOHN. Well!

ARIADNE (_anxiously_). You don’t think I was too friendly? I had to think of the business, and he’s such a very important client, isn’t he?

JOHN. Look here, if you think that by ridiculous exaggeration of my words like that----

ARIADNE. Don’t sneer at exaggeration. All art is exaggeration. It isn’t until you look at a thing a little out of its perspective that you see it as it really is.

JOHN. I don’t want a lecture on art.

ARIADNE. No, John. And it means using such long words. But I want you to understand that my heart was in the right place if--if the rest of me wasn’t. I overdid the faithful wife, that’s all.

JOHN. _Faithful_ wife! You have a sense of humour, Ariadne.

ARIADNE. I have, John. Nothing can take that from me.

JOHN (_suddenly_). I don’t believe a word you’ve been saying. You ran away with him because you loved him. (_She says nothing. He goes over to her and shakes her by the shoulders._) Answer! Do you love this fellow?

ARIADNE. Why do you call him a fellow? Only yesterday you were telling me what a good sort he was.

JOHN (_to himself_). Meldrum! Good God! How little one knows one’s friends! That sort of man!

ARIADNE. But I told you yesterday he was that sort of man.

JOHN. God! I’ll break his neck for him.

ARIADNE (_interested_). Is that legal?

JOHN (_grimly_). I’ll--break--his--neck for him.

ARIADNE. Is it businesslike? Of course you’d have the winding up of the estate----

JOHN. If he thinks he can try any of those games in this house----

ARIADNE. Isn’t it funny? Yesterday you liked him and I didn’t, and to-day you don’t like him and I----

JOHN (_turning to her suddenly_). Supposing he had caught that train! Where would you be now?

ARIADNE. Ah, but he didn’t. He was detained by business. Business first.

JOHN (_melodramatically_). In all but actual fact you are unfaithful to me!

ARIADNE. Ah, but facts are what count in this hard-headed town.

JOHN. But for the trifling accident of missing a train----

ARIADNE (_excusing him_). I suppose he is very busy just now.

JOHN (_the husband forgotten in the solicitor_). Those new houses. I told you.

ARIADNE. I suppose he suddenly decided that they could be run up for less or that they didn’t really want bathrooms. I must ask him what it was.

JOHN (_the husband roused_). You’ll do nothing of the sort! I’ll take damned good care you never see him again.

ARIADNE. Darling, is that wise?

JOHN. What do you mean?

ARIADNE. We don’t want to offend him, do we?

JOHN. Offend! That’s funny! That’s very funny! (_He laughs bitterly._)

ARIADNE. Yes, dear, but we mustn’t let our sense of humour interfere with our sense of business.

JOHN (_very sarcastic_). He hasn’t offended _me_. Oh no! He has only run away with my wife.

ARIADNE. But you must save something from the wreck. You don’t want to lose a wife _and_ a good client on the same day.

JOHN (_now entirely unmanned_). Damn my clients!

ARIADNE. John, you’re losing your head. You’re saying things you’ll be sorry for one day.

JOHN (_violently_). And you’re saying things _you’ll_ be sorry for. And what’s more, my girl, you’ll be sorry for them now. I tell you I’ve had about enough of this. (_He goes up to her fiercely_) You shame me in front of my relations, you insult me, you ruin my business for me, you----

ARIADNE (_triumphantly_). Ah ha! I knew that would come in. Business! Business!

JOHN (_seizing her wrists_). Stop it, do you hear? Stop it, or by God, I’ll----

(_The door opens very quietly and HECTOR creeps in._)

HECTOR (_in a stage whisper_). It’s all right, I’m not staying. I just----Did I leave a small pine--ah, there it is. Thank you, thank you.

(_He picks up his pineapple and tip-toes softly out of the room._)