Chapter VII: Act III: Mrs. Murray's house in Charles Street (2)

Well, you haven't succeeded very well. Did you think I was likely to be happy--when you leave me alone all day and half the night for your swell friends that I'm not good enough for?

BASIL.

That's not true. I hardly ever see any of my old friends.

JENNY.

Except Mrs. Murray, eh?

BASIL.

I've seen Mrs. Murray perhaps a dozen times in the last year.

JENNY.

Oh, you needn't tell me that. I know it. She's a lady, isn't she?

BASIL.

[_Ignoring the charge._] And my work takes me away from you. I can't always be down here. Think how bored you'd be.

JENNY.

A precious lot of good your work does. You can't earn enough money to keep us out of debt.

BASIL.

[_Good-humouredly._] We are in debt. But we share that very respectable condition with half the nobility and gentry in the kingdom. We're neither of us good managers, and we've lived a bit beyond our means this year. But in future we'll be more economical.

JENNY.

[_Sullenly._] All the neighbours know that we've got bills with the tradesmen.

BASIL.

[_Acidly._] I'm sorry that you shouldn't have made so good a bargain as you expected when you married me.

JENNY.

I wonder what you do succeed in? Your book was very successful, wasn't it? You thought you were going to set the Thames on fire, and the book fell flat, flat, flat.

BASIL.

[_Recovering his good temper._] That is a fate which has befallen better books than mine.

JENNY.

It deserved it.

BASIL.

Oh, I didn't expect _you_ to appreciate it. It isn't given to all of us to write about wicked earls and beautiful duchesses.

JENNY.

Well, I wasn't the only one. The papers praised it, didn't they?

BASIL.

The unanimity of their blame was the only thing that consoled me.

JENNY.

And one of them advised you to study an English grammar. And you're the fine gentleman who looks down on poor things like us!

BASIL.

I often wonder if the reviewer who abuses you for a printer's error realises what pleasure he causes the wife of your bosom.

JENNY.

Oh, I've learnt to know you so well this last six months--since the baby died. You've got no cause to set yourself up on a pedestal.

BASIL.

[_With a laugh._] My dear Jenny, I never pretended to be a golden idol.

JENNY.

I know what you are now. And I was such a fool as to think you a hero. You're merely a failure. In everything you try you're a miserable failure.

BASIL.

[_With a slight sigh._] Perhaps you're right, Jenny.

[BASIL _walks up and down; and then, stopping,
looks at her for a moment meditatively_.

BASIL.

I sometimes wonder whether we shouldn't be happier--if we lived apart.

JENNY.

[_With a start._] What d'you mean?

BASIL.

We don't seem able to get on very well. And I see no chance of things going any better.

JENNY.

[_With staring eyes._] D'you mean to say you want to separate?

BASIL.

I think it might be better for both of us--at least for a time. Perhaps later on we might try again.

JENNY.

And what'll _you_ do?

BASIL.

I should go abroad for a while.

JENNY.

With Mrs. Murray. Is that it? You want to go away with her.

BASIL.

[_Impatiently._] No. Of course not.

JENNY.

I don't believe it. You're in love with her.

BASIL.

You've got no right to say that.

JENNY.

Haven't I? I suppose I must shut my eyes and say nothing. You're in love with her. D'you think I've not seen it in these months? That's why you want to leave me.

BASIL.

It's impossible for us to live together. We shall never agree, and we shall never be happy. For God's sake let us separate and have done with it.

JENNY.

You're sick of me. You've had all you want out of me, and now I can go. The fine lady comes along, and you send me away like a housemaid. D'you think I can't see that you're in love with her? You'd sacrifice me without a thought to save her a moment's unpleasantness. And because you love her you hate me.

BASIL.

It's not true.

JENNY.

Can you deny that you're in love with her?

BASIL.

You're simply mad. Good heavens, I've done nothing that could give you the least cause to be jealous.

JENNY.

[_Passionately._] Will you swear that you're not in love with her? Swear it on your honour?

BASIL.

You're mad.

JENNY.

[_With growing excitement._] Swear it. You can't. You're simply madly in love with her.

BASIL.

Nonsense.

JENNY.

Swear it. Swear it on your honour. Swear you don't care for her.

BASIL.

[_Shrugging his shoulders._] I swear it ... on my honour.

JENNY.

[_Scornfully._] It's a lie!... And she's just as much in love with you as you are with her.

BASIL.

[_Seizing her wrists._] What d'you mean?

JENNY.

D'you think I haven't got eyes in my head? I saw it that day she came here. D'you suppose she came to see me? She despises me. I'm not a lady. She came here to please _you_. She was polite to me to please _you_. She asked me to go and see her to please _you_.

BASIL.

[_Trying to compose himself._] It's absurd. She was an old friend of mine. Of course she came.

JENNY.

I know that sort of friend. D'you think I didn't see the way she looked at you, and how she followed you with her eyes? She simply hung on every word you said. When you smiled, she smiled. When you laughed, she laughed. Oh, I should think she was in love with you; I know what love is, and I felt it. And when she looked at me I know she hated me because I'd robbed her of you.

BASIL.

[_Unable to contain himself._] Oh, what a dog's life it is we lead! We've been both utterly wretched. It can't go on--and I only see one way out.

JENNY.

That's what you've been brooding over this last week, is it? Separation! I knew there was something, and I couldn't find out what it was.

BASIL.

I do my best to hold myself in, but sometimes I feel it's impossible. I shall be led to saying things that we shall both regret. For Heaven's sake let us part.

JENNY.

No.

BASIL.

We can't go on having these awful quarrels. It's too degrading. It was a horrible mistake that we ever married.

JENNY.

[_Horror-stricken._] Basil!

BASIL.

Oh, you must see that as well as I. We're utterly unsuited to one another. And the baby's death removed the only necessity that held us together.

JENNY.

You talk as if we only remained together because it was convenient.

BASIL.

[_Passionately._] Let me go, Jenny. I can't stand it any more. I feel as if I shall go mad.

JENNY.

[_Full of pain and anguish._] It's nothing at all to you.

BASIL.

Jenny, I did my best for you a year ago. I gave you all I had to give. It was little enough in all conscience. Now I ask you to give me back my freedom.

JENNY.

[_Distracted._] You only think of yourself. What is to become of me?

BASIL.

You'll be much happier. It's the best thing for both of us. I'll do all I can for you, and you can have your mother and sister to live here.

JENNY.

[_With a cry of grief and passion._] But I love you, Basil.

BASIL.

You!! Why, you've tortured me for six months beyond all endurance. You've made all my days a burden to me. You've made my life a perfect hell.

JENNY.

[_Gives a long groan of horror and dismay._] Oh!

[_They stand facing one another, when the
housemaid_, FANNY, _comes in_.

FANNY.

Mr. Halliwell.

[JOHN _comes in_. JENNY, _after taking his hand,
sinks down on a chair, paying no attention
to the following conversation; she stares in
front of her, quite distraught_. BASIL _tries
with all his might to appear calm and
natural_.

BASIL.

Hulloa, what are you doing in these parts?

JOHN.

How d'you do, Mrs. Kent? I've been having an early lunch at Richmond, and I thought I'd just drop in on my way back. As it was Saturday afternoon I thought I might find you.

BASIL.

I'm sure we're delighted to see you. [JOHN _gives a side-glance at_ JENNY, _and slightly raises his eyebrows_.] But you've only just come in time, because I've got to go up to town. We might travel up together.

JOHN.

Certainly.

JENNY.

Where are you going, Basil?

BASIL.

To Chancery Lane, to see my agent on business.

JENNY.

[_Suspiciously._] On Saturday afternoon? Why, he won't be there.

BASIL.

I have an appointment with him.

[JENNY _does not answer, but is obviously unconvinced_.
JOHN, _somewhat embarrassed, exerts
himself to make conversation_.

JOHN.

I was thinking as I came along that one must lead quite an idyllic existence in the suburbs--with the river--and one's little garden.

BASIL.

[_Ironically._] And the spectacle of the fifty little houses opposite all exactly like one another.

JOHN.

And the quiet is perfectly enchanting.

BASIL.

Oh, yes. The only vehicles that disturb the peaceful seclusion are the milk-cart and the barrel-organs. It's quite idyllic.

JENNY.

I think it's a very nice neighbourhood. And you get such a superior class of people here.

BASIL.

I'll just go and change. [_Looking at his watch._ There's a train at 4.15.

JOHN.

All right, hurry up.

[BASIL _goes out of the room_. JENNY _at once
springs to her feet and goes towards_ JOHN.
_She is distracted and hardly knows what
she says._

JENNY.

Can I trust you?

JOHN.

What d'you mean?

[_She stares into his eyes, doubting, trying to see
whether he will be willing to help her._

JENNY.

You used to be a good sort. You never looked down on me because I was a barmaid. Tell me I can trust you, John. There's no one I can speak to, and I feel if I don't speak I shall go off my head.

JOHN.

What is the matter?

JENNY.

Will you tell me the truth if I ask you something?

JOHN.

Of course.

JENNY.

On your oath?

JOHN.

On my oath.

JENNY.

[_After a momentary pause._] Is there anything between Basil and Mrs. Murray?

JOHN.

[_Aghast._] No. Certainly not.

JENNY.

How d'you know? Are you sure? You wouldn't tell me, if there was. You're all against me because I'm not a lady.... Oh, I'm so unhappy.

[_She tries to restrain her tears, she is half-hysterical._
JOHN _stares at her, surprised,
at a loss for words_.

JENNY.

If you only knew what a life we lead! He calls it a dog's life, and he's right.

JOHN.

I thought you got on so well.

JENNY.

Oh, before you we've always kept up appearances. He's ashamed to let you know he regrets he ever married me. He wants to separate.

JOHN.

What!

JENNY.

[_Impatiently._] Oh, don't look so surprised. You're not an utter fool, are you? He proposed it to-day before you came in. We'd been having one of our rows.

JOHN.

But what on earth is it all about?

JENNY.

God knows!

JOHN.

It's nonsense. It can only be a little passing quarrel. You must expect to have those.

JENNY.

No, it isn't. No, it isn't. He doesn't love me. He's in love with your sister-in-law.

JOHN.

It's impossible.

JENNY.

He's always there. He was there twice last week and twice the week before.

JOHN.

How d'you know?

JENNY.

I've followed him.

JOHN.

You followed him in the street, Jenny?

JENNY.

[_Defiantly._] Yes. If I'm not ladylike enough for him, I needn't play the lady there. You're shocked now, I suppose?

JOHN.

I wouldn't presume to judge you, Jenny.

JENNY.

And I've read his letters, too--because I wanted to know what he was doing. I steamed one open, and he saw it, and he never said a word.

JOHN.

Good heavens, why did you do it?

JENNY.

Because I can't live unless I know the truth. I thought it was Mrs. Murray's handwriting.

JOHN.

Was it from her?

JENNY.

No. It was a receipt from the coal merchant. I could see how he despised me when he looked at the envelope--I didn't stick it down again very well. And I saw him smile when he found it was only a receipt.

JOHN.

Upon my word, I don't think you've got much cause to be jealous.

JENNY.

Oh, you don't know. Last Tuesday he was dining there, and you should have seen the state he was in. He was so restless he couldn't sit still. He looked at his watch every minute. His eyes simply glittered with excitement, and I could almost hear his heart beating.

JOHN.

It can't be true.

JENNY.

He never loved me. He married me because he thought it was his duty. And then when the baby died--he thought I'd entrapped him.

JOHN.

He didn't say so.

JENNY.

No. He never says anything--but I saw it in his eyes. [_Passionately clasping her hands._] Oh, you don't know what our life is. For days he doesn't say a word except to answer my questions. And the silence simply drives me mad. I shouldn't mind if he blackguarded me. I'd rather he hit me than simply look and look. I can see he's keeping himself in. He's said more to-day than he's ever said before. I knew it was getting towards the end.

JOHN.

[_With a helpless gesture._] I'm very sorry.

JENNY.

Oh, don't you pity me, too. I've had a great deal too much pity. I don't want it. Basil married me from pity. Oh, I wish he hadn't. I can't stand the unhappiness.

JOHN.

[_Gravely._] You know, Jenny, he's a man of honour.

JENNY.

Oh, I know he's a man of honour. I wish he had a little less of it. One doesn't want a lot of fine sentiments in married life. They don't work.... Oh, why couldn't I fall in love with a man of my own class? I should have been so much happier. I used to be so proud that Basil wasn't a clerk, or something in the City. He's right, we shall never be happy.

JOHN.

[_Trying to calm her._] Oh, yes, you will. You mustn't take things too seriously.

JENNY.

It isn't a matter of yesterday, or to-day, or to-morrow. I can't alter myself. He knew I wasn't a lady when he married me. My father had to bring up five children on two-ten a week. You can't expect a man to send his daughters to a boarding-school at Brighton on that, and have them finished in Paris.... He doesn't say a word when I do something or say something a lady wouldn't--but he purses up his lips, and looks.... Then I get so mad that I do things just to aggravate him. Sometimes I try to be vulgar. One learns a good deal in a bar in the City, and I know so well the things to say that'll make Basil curl up. I want to get a bit of revenge out of him sometimes, and I know exactly where he's raw and where I can hurt him. [_With a laugh of scorn._] You should see the way he looks when I don't eat properly, or when I call a man a Johnny.

JOHN.

[_Drily._] It opens up endless possibilities of domestic unhappiness.

JENNY.

Oh, I know it isn't fair to him, but I lose my head. I can't always be refined. Sometimes I can't help breaking out. I feel I must let myself go.

JOHN.

Why don't you separate, then?

JENNY.

Because I love him. Oh, John, you don't know how I love him. I'd do anything to make him happy. I'd give my life if he wanted it. Oh, I can't say it, but when I think of him my heart burns so that sometimes I can hardly breathe. I can never show him that he's all in the world to me; I try to make him love me, and I only make him hate me. What can I do to show him? Ah, if he only knew, I'm sure he'd not regret that he married me. I feel--I feel as if my heart was full of music, and yet something prevents me from ever bringing it out.

JOHN.

D'you think he means it seriously when he talks of separation?

JENNY.

He's been brooding over it. I know him so well, I knew there was something he was thinking over. Oh, John, I couldn't live without him. I'd rather die. If he leaves me, I swear I'll kill myself.

JOHN.

[_Walking up and down._] I wish I could help you. I don't see anything I can do.

JENNY.

Oh, yes, there is. Speak to your sister-in-law. Ask her to have mercy on me. Perhaps she doesn't know what she's doing. Tell her I love him.... Take care. There's Basil. If he knew what I'd said he'd never speak to me again.

[BASIL _comes in, dressed in a frock-coat; with a
tall hat in his hand_.

BASIL.

I'm ready. We've just got time to catch the train.

JOHN.

All right. Good-bye, Mrs. Kent.

JENNY.

[_Keeping her eyes fixed on_ BASIL.] Good-bye.

[_The two men go out._ JENNY _runs to the door
and calls out_.

JENNY.

Basil, I want you a moment, Basil!

[BASIL _appears at the door_.

JENNY.

Are you really going to Chancery Lane?

[BASIL _makes a movement of impatience and
goes out again without answering_.

JENNY.

[_Alone._] Oh, well, I'm going to see that for myself. [_Calling to the_ MAID.] Fanny!... Bring my hat and my jacket. Quick!

[_She runs to the window and looks out at_ BASIL
_and_ JOHN _going away_. FANNY _appears
with the clothes_. JENNY _hurriedly puts
them on_.

JENNY.

[_As_ FANNY _is helping her_.] What time is it?

FANNY.

[_Looking up at the clock._] Five minutes past four.

JENNY.

I think I can catch it. He said 4.15.

FANNY.

Will you be in to tea, mum?

JENNY.

I don't know. [_She runs to the door and rushes out._]

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

THE THIRD ACT

THE SAME AFTERNOON.

[_A luxuriously furnished drawing-room at_ MRS. MURRAY'S _house in
Charles Street, Mayfair. Everything in it is beautiful, but
suggests in the owner good taste rather than originality._]

[HILDA _is seated near a tea-table, elaborately gowned, and with
her is_ MABEL. MR. ROBERT BRACKLEY _is sitting down, a stout,
round-faced man, clean-shaven and very bald; about forty; he is
attired in the height of fashion, in a frock-coat, patent-leather
boots and an eye-glass. He talks very quickly, in a careless
frivolous fashion, and is always much amused at what he says._]

MABEL.

What is the time, Mr. Brackley?

BRACKLEY.

I shan't tell you again.

MABEL.

How brutal of you!

BRACKLEY.

There's something unhealthy in your passion for information. I've already told you five times.

HILDA.

It's very unflattering to us who've been doing our little best to amuse you.

MABEL.

I can't imagine what's happened to John. He promised to fetch me here.

HILDA.

He's sure to come if you'll only wait patiently.

MABEL.

But I hate waiting patiently.

HILDA.

You shouldn't have let him out of your sight.

MABEL.

He went to Putney after luncheon to see your friend Mr. Kent. Have you seen him lately?

HILDA.

John? I saw him at the Martins yesterday.

MABEL.

[_Slyly._] I meant Mr. Kent.

HILDA.

[_Indifferently._] Yes. He called the other day. [_To change the conversation._] You're unusually silent, Mr. Brackley.

BRACKLEY.

[_Smiling._] I have nothing whatever to say.

MABEL.

That's usually when clever people talk most.

HILDA.

Are you doing anything now?

BRACKLEY.

Oh yes, I'm writing a play in blank verse.

HILDA.

You brave man. What is it about?

BRACKLEY.

Cleopatra.

HILDA.

Dear me! Shakespeare wrote a play about Cleopatra, didn't he?

BRACKLEY.

I daresay. I haven't read it. Shakespeare bores me. He lived so long ago.

MABEL.

Of course there are people who read him.

BRACKLEY.

Are there? What do they look like?

HILDA.

[_Smiling._] They bear no distinctive mark of their eccentricity.

BRACKLEY.

The English are so original.

MABEL.

I think I shall go and ring up the flat. I wonder if John has gone straight home.

BRACKLEY.

Do. I'm growing very uneasy about him.

MABEL.

[_Laughing._] You absurd creature.

[_She goes out._

HILDA.

You talk more nonsense than anyone I ever met.

BRACKLEY.

That's my stock in trade. You don't imagine people would read my poems if they knew that I was sober, industrious, and economical. As a matter of fact I lead the virtuous life of a clergyman's daughter, but not a reviewer would notice me if he knew it.

HILDA.

And the little things that the indiscreet read of in the papers....

BRACKLEY.

Are merely another proof of my passion for duty. The British public wants its poets to lead romantic lives.

HILDA.

Are you ever serious?

BRACKLEY.

May I come to lunch with you on Thursday?

HILDA.

[_A little surprised._] Certainly. But why on Thursday?

BRACKLEY.

Because on that day I intend to ask you to marry me.

HILDA.

[_With a smile._] I'm sorry, I've just remembered that I'm lunching out.

BRACKLEY.

You break my heart.

HILDA.

On the contrary, I provide you with the materials for a sonnet.

BRACKLEY.

Won't you marry me?

HILDA.

No.

BRACKLEY.

Why not?

HILDA.

[_Amused._] I'm not in the least in love with you.

BRACKLEY.

People who propose to marry should ask themselves if they can look forward with equanimity to breakfasting opposite one another for an indefinite number of years.

HILDA.

You're very unromantic.

BRACKLEY.

My dear lady, if you want romance I'll send you my complete works bound in vellum. I've ground out ten volumes of romance to Phyllis and Chloe and heaven knows who. The Lord save me from a romantic wife.

HILDA.

But I'm afraid I'm hopelessly romantic.

BRACKLEY.

Well, six months of marriage with a poet will cure you.

HILDA.

I'd rather not be cured.

BRACKLEY.

Won't you be in to luncheon on Thursday?

HILDA.

No.

[_The_ BUTLER _comes in_.

BUTLER.

Mr. Halliwell, Mr. Kent.

[BASIL _and_ JOHN _appear_, _and at the same
moment_ MABEL _comes in from the room in
which she has been telephoning_.

MABEL.

[_To_ JOHN.] Wretched creature! I've been trying to ring you up.

JOHN.

Have I kept you waiting? I went down to Chancery Lane with Basil.

[JOHN _turns to shake hands with_ HILDA _and_
BRACKLEY, _while_ BASIL, _who has said how
d'you do to_ HILDA, _comes down to speak to_
MABEL. _The conversation between_ MABEL
_and_ BASIL _is in an undertone_.

BASIL.

How d'you do. You must scold me for keeping John so long.

MABEL.

I didn't really want him, you know.

BASIL.

[_Pointing with his head to_ BRACKLEY.] I say, who is that?

MABEL.

Robert Brackley. Don't you know him?

BASIL.

The poet?

MABEL.

Of course. They say he'd have been given the Laureateship if it hadn't been abolished at Tennyson's death.

BASIL.

[_Tightening his lips._] He's rather a low blackguard, isn't he?

MABEL.

Heavens, what's the matter with him, poor man? He's Hilda's latest celebrity. He pretends to adore her.

BASIL.

Don't you remember the Grange case that he was mixed up in?

MABEL.

[_In tones of surprise._] But, my dear Mr. Kent, that was two years ago.

HILDA.

Mr. Kent, I want to introduce you to Mr. Brackley.

BASIL.

[_Going up._] How d'you do.

[JOHN _comes down to his wife_.

MABEL.

Wretched creature!

JOHN.

I say, Mabel, is Basil often here?

MABEL.

I don't know. I met him here last week.

JOHN.

Why the Dickens does he come? He's got no business to.

MABEL.

You brought him yourself to-day.

JOHN.

I didn't. He insisted on coming--when I said I had to fetch you.

MABEL.

Perhaps he came to see me.

JOHN.

Fiddledidee! I think you ought to speak to Hilda about it.

MABEL.

My dear John, are you mad? She'd jump down my throat.

JOHN.

Why does she let him hang about her? She must know she's turning his silly head.

MABEL.

I daresay she wants to prove to him that he showed very bad taste a year ago. It is rather annoying when you're attached to a young man that he should go and marry somebody else.

JOHN.

Well, I don't think she's playing the game, and I shall tell her so.

MABEL.

She'll snub you awfully.

JOHN.

I don't care.... Look here, you make a diversion so that I can get hold of her.

MABEL.

How?

JOHN.

[_Dryly._] I don't know. Exercise your invention.

MABEL.

[_Going towards the others._] Hilda, John is clamouring for some tea.

HILDA.

[_Coming down._] Why on earth can't he help himself?

JOHN.

My native modesty prevents.

HILDA.

That's quite a new trait in you.

[HILDA _sits down and pours out tea for_ JOHN.
_He looks at her silently._

HILDA.

You've been lunching at Richmond?

JOHN.

Yes.... Then I went on to Putney.

HILDA.

You've been making quite a day of it.

JOHN.

[_Taking the cup._] I say, old gal--you're not going to make a fool of yourself, are you?

HILDA.

[_Opening her eyes._] Oh, I hope not. Why?

JOHN.

I thought it might have slipped your memory that Basil was married about a year ago.

HILDA.

[_Freezing._] What on earth d'you mean? [_Calling_] Mabel.

JOHN.

One moment.... You can give me a little conversation, can't you?

HILDA.

I'm afraid you're going to bore me.

JOHN.

[_Good-humouredly._] I assure you I'm not.... Isn't Basil here rather often?

HILDA.

I wonder you haven't learnt to mind your own business, John.

JOHN.

Don't you think it's rather rough on that poor little woman in Putney?

HILDA.

[_With a suspicion of contempt._] I went down to see her. I thought she was vulgar and pretentious. I'm afraid I can't arouse any interest in her.

JOHN.

[_Gently._] She may be vulgar, but she told me her love was like music in her heart. Don't you think she must have suffered awfully to get hold of a thought like that?

HILDA.

[_After a pause, changing suddenly both voice and manner._] And d'you think I've not suffered, John? I'm so unhappy.

JOHN.

Do you really care for him?

HILDA.

[_In a low voice hoarse with passion._] No, I don't care for him. I worship the very ground he treads on.

JOHN.

[_Very gravely._] Then you must do as you think best.... You're playing the most dangerous game in the world. You're playing with human hearts.... Good-bye.

HILDA.

[_Taking his hand._] Good-bye, John. You're not angry with me because I was horrid.... I'm glad you told me about his wife. Now I shall know what to do.

JOHN.

Mabel.

MABEL.

[_Coming forward._] Yes, we really must be going. I've not seen my precious baby for two hours.

HILDA.

[_Taking both her hands._] Good-bye, you happy child. You've got a precious baby, and you've got a husband you love. What can you want more?

MABEL.

[_Flippantly._] I want a motor-car.

HILDA.

[_Kissing her._] Good-bye, darling.

[MABEL _and_ JOHN _go out_.

BRACKLEY.

I like this room, Mrs. Murray. It never seems to say to you: now it's really time for you to go away, as some drawing-rooms do.

HILDA.

[_Recovering her serenity._] I suppose it's the furniture. I'm thinking of changing it.

BRACKLEY.

[_With a smile._] Upon my word, that almost suggests that I've outstayed my welcome.

HILDA.

[_Gaily._] I shouldn't have said that if I didn't know that nothing would induce you to go till you wanted to.

BRACKLEY.

[_Rising._] You know me like your glove. But it really is growing monstrous late.

HILDA.

You mustn't go till you've told me who the fair charmer was I saw you with at the play last night.

BRACKLEY.

Ah, the green-eyed monster!

HILDA.

[_Laughing._] Don't be so absurd, but I thought you'd like to know her yellow hair was dyed.

[BASIL _looks over the pages of a book_, _somewhat
annoyed that_ HILDA _takes no notice of him_.

BRACKLEY.

Of course it was dyed. That was just the charm of it. Any woman can have yellow hair naturally: there's no more credit in that than in having it blue or green.

HILDA.

I've always wanted to make mine purple.

BRACKLEY.

Don't you think women ought to be artificial? It's just as much their duty to rouge their cheeks and powder their noses as it is for them to wear nice frocks.

HILDA.

But I know many women who wear horrid frocks.

BRACKLEY.

Oh, those are the others. I treat them as non-existent.

_Hilda._

What do you mean?

BRACKLEY.

There are only two sorts of women in the world--the women who powder their noses and the others.

HILDA.

And who are they if you please?

BRACKLEY.

I haven't examined the matter very carefully, but I understand they are clergymen's daughters by profession.

[_He shakes hands with her._

HILDA.

It's so nice of you to have come.

BRACKLEY.

[_Nodding at_ BASIL.] Good-bye.... May I come again soon?

HILDA.

[_Looking at him quickly._] Were you serious just now, or were you laughing at me?

BRACKLEY.

I've never been more serious in my life.

HILDA.

Then perhaps I shall be in to luncheon on Thursday after all.

BRACKLEY.

A thousand thanks. Good-bye.

[_He nods to_ BASIL _and goes out_. HILDA _looks
at_ BASIL _with a smile_.

HILDA.

Is that a very interesting book?

BASIL.

[_Putting it down._] I thought that man was never going away.

HILDA.

[_Laughing._] I suspect he thought precisely the same of you.

BASIL.

[_Ill-temperedly._] What an ass he is! How _can_ you stand him?

HILDA.

I'm rather attached to him. I don't take everything he says very seriously. And young men ought to be foolish.

BASIL.

He didn't strike me as so juvenile as all that.

HILDA.

He's only forty, poor thing--and I've never known a coming young man who was less than that.

BASIL.

He's a young man with a very bald head.

HILDA.

[_Amused._] I wonder why you dislike him!

BASIL.

[_With a jealous glance, icily._] I thought he wasn't admitted into decent houses.

HILDA.

[_Opening her eyes._] He comes here, Mr. Kent.

BASIL.

[_Unable to restrain his ill-temper._] Don't you know that he's been mixed up in every scandal for the last twenty years?

HILDA.

[_Good-humouredly_, _seeing that_ BASIL _is merely jealous_.] There must be people in the world to provide gossip for their neighbours.

BASIL.

It's no business of mine. I have no right to talk to you like this.

HILDA.

I wonder why you do it?

BASIL.

[_Almost savagely._] Because I love you.

[_There is a little pause._

HILDA.

[_With a smile, ironically._] Won't you have some more tea, Mr. Kent?

BASIL.

[_Going up to her, speaking with a sort of vehement gravity._] You don't know what I've suffered. You don't know what a hell my life is.... I tried so hard to prevent myself from coming here. When I married I swore I'd break with all my old friends.... When I married I found I loved _you_.

HILDA.

I can't listen to you if you talk like that.

BASIL.

D'you want me to go?

[_She does not answer for a moment, but walks
up and down in agitation. At last she
stops and faces him._

HILDA.

Did you hear me tell Mr. Brackley to come on Thursday?

BASIL.

Yes.

HILDA.

He's asked me to be his wife. And on Thursday I shall give him an answer.

BASIL.

Hilda!

HILDA.

[_Earnestly._] It's you who've driven me into it.

BASIL.

Hilda, what are you going to say to him?

HILDA.

I don't know--perhaps, yes?

BASIL.

Oh, Hilda, Hilda, you don't care for him?

HILDA.

[_Shrugging her shoulders._] He amuses me. I dare say we should get on very well together.

BASIL.

[_Passionately._] Oh, you can't. You don't know what you're doing. I thought--I thought you loved me.

HILDA.

It's because I love you that I shall marry Mr. Brackley.

BASIL.

Oh, it's absurd. I won't let you. You're making us both utterly wretched. I won't let you sacrifice our happiness. Oh, Hilda, I love you. I can't live without you. At first I tried to resist seeing you. I used to pass your door and look up at your windows; and the door seemed as if it were waiting for me. And at the end of the street I used to look back. Oh, how I used to want to come in and see you once more! I thought if I saw you just once, I should get over it. And at last I couldn't help myself. I'm so weak. Do you despise me?

HILDA.

[_Almost in a whisper._] I don't know.

BASIL.

And you were so kind I couldn't help coming again. I thought I did no harm.

HILDA.

I saw you were unhappy.

BASIL.

I should think I was unhappy. For months I've dreaded going home. When I saw my house as I walked along I almost turned sick. You don't know how fervently I've wished that I'd got killed in the war. I can't go on.

HILDA.

But you must. It's your duty.

BASIL.

Oh, I think I've had enough of duty and honour. I've used up all my principles in the last year.

HILDA.

Don't say that, Basil.

BASIL.

After all, it's my own fault. I brought it on myself, and I must take the consequences.... But I haven't the strength, I don't love her.

HILDA.

Then don't let her ever find it out. Be kind to her, and gentle and forbearing.

BASIL.

I can't be kind and gentle and forbearing day after day, for weeks, and months, and years.

HILDA.

I thought you were a brave man. They wouldn't have given you that medal if you'd been a coward.

BASIL.

Oh, my dearest, it's not hard to risk your life in the midst of battle. I can do that--but this needs more strength than I've got. I tell you I can't endure it.

HILDA.

[_Tenderly._] But it'll get better. You'll get used to one another, and you'll understand one another better.

BASIL.

We're too different. It's impossible for it to get better. We can't even go on as we have been. I've felt that the end was coming.

HILDA.

But try--try for my sake.

BASIL.

You don't know what it is. Everything she says, everything she does, jars upon me so frightfully. I try to restrain myself. I clench my teeth to prevent myself from breaking out at her. Sometimes I can't help it, and I say things that I'd give anything to have left unsaid. She's dragging me down. I'm getting as common and vulgar as she is.

HILDA.

How can you say that of your wife?

BASIL.

Don't you think I must have gone through a good deal before I could acknowledge to myself what she was? I'm chained to her for all my life. And when I look into the future--I see her a vulgar, slatternly shrew like her mother, and myself abject, degraded, and despicable. The woman never tires in her conflict with the man, and in the end _he_ always succumbs. A man, when he marries a woman like that, thinks he's going to lift her up to his own station. The fool! It's she who drags him down to hers.

HILDA.

[_Much disturbed, rising from her seat._] I wanted you to be so happy.

BASIL.

[_Going towards her._] Hilda!

HILDA.

No--don't.... Please!

BASIL.

If it weren't for you I couldn't have lived. It was only by seeing you that I gathered courage to go on with it. And each time I came here I loved you more passionately.

HILDA.

Oh, why did you come?

BASIL.

I couldn't help it. I knew it was poison, but I loved the poison. I would give my whole soul for one look of your eyes.

HILDA.

If you care for me at all, do your duty like a brave man--and let me respect you.

BASIL.

Say that you love me, Hilda.

HILDA.

[_Distracted._] You're making our friendship impossible. Don't you see that you're preventing me from ever having you here again?

BASIL.

I can't help it.

HILDA.

I ought never to have seen you again. I thought there was no harm in your coming, and I--I couldn't bear to lose you altogether.

BASIL.

Even if I never see you again, I must tell you now that I love you. I made you suffer, I was blind. But I love you with all my heart, Hilda. All day I think of you, and I dream of you in the night. I long to take you in my arms and kiss you, to kiss your lips, and your beautiful hair, and your hands. My whole soul is yours, Hilda.

[_He goes towards her again to take her in his
arms._

HILDA.

Oh, no, go away. For God's sake, go now. I can't bear it.

BASIL.

Hilda, I can't live without you.

HILDA.

Have mercy on me. Don't you see how weak I am? Oh, God help me!

BASIL.

You don't love me?

HILDA.

[_Vehemently._] You know I love you. But because of my great love I beseech you to do your duty.

BASIL.

My duty is to be happy. Let us go where we can love one another--away from England, to a land where love isn't sinful and ugly.

HILDA.

Oh, Basil, let us try to walk straight. Think of your wife, who loves you also--as much as I do. You're all the world to her. You can't treat her so shamefully.

[_She puts her handkerchief to her eyes, and_ BASIL
_gently takes away her hand_.

BASIL.

Don't cry, Hilda. I can't bear it.

HILDA.

[_In broken tones._] Don't you understand that we could never respect ourselves again if we did that poor creature such a fearful wrong? She would be always between us with her tears and her sorrows. I tell you I couldn't bear it. Have mercy on me--if you love me at all.

BASIL.

[_Wavering._] Hilda, it's too hard. I can't leave you.

HILDA.

You must. I _know_ it's better to do our duty. For my sake, dearest, go back to your wife, and don't let her ever know that you love me. It's because we're stronger than she that we must sacrifice ourselves.

[_He leans his head on his hands, and sighs
deeply. For a while they remain in silence.
At last, with another sigh, he gets up._

BASIL.

I don't know any longer what's right and what's wrong. It all seems confused. It's very hard.

HILDA.

[_Hoarsely._] It's just as hard for me, Basil.

BASIL.

[_Broken-hearted._] Good-bye, then. I dare say you're right. And perhaps I should only make you very unhappy.

HILDA.

Good-bye, my dearest.

[_He bends down and kisses her hands. She
stifles a sob. He goes slowly to the door,
with his back turned to her; and then_
HILDA, _unable to endure it, gives a groan_.

HILDA.

Basil. Don't go.

BASIL.

[_With a cry of joy._] Ah! Hilda.

[_He clasps her passionately in his arms._

HILDA.

Oh, I can't bear it. I won't lose you. Basil, say you love me.

BASIL.

[_In a madness of joy._] Yes. I love you with all my heart.

HILDA.

I could have borne it if you'd been happy.

BASIL.

Now _nothing_ can separate us, Hilda. You belong to me for ever.

HILDA.

God help me! What have I done?

BASIL.

If we lose our souls, what does it matter? We gain the whole world.

HILDA.

Oh, Basil, I want your love. I want your love so badly.

BASIL.

Will you come with me, Hilda? I can take you to a land where the whole earth speaks only of love--and where only love and youth and beauty matter.

HILDA.

Let us go where we can be together always. We have so short a time; let us snatch all the happiness we can.

BASIL.

[_Kissing her again._] My darling.

HILDA.

Oh, Basil, Basil.... [_She starts away._] Take care!

[_The_ BUTLER _comes in_.]

BUTLER.

Mrs. Kent.

[JENNY _enters hurriedly, as he gives her name.
The_ BUTLER _at once goes out_.

BASIL.

Jenny!

JENNY.

I've caught you.

BASIL.

[_Trying to be urbane_--_to_ HILDA] I think you know my wife.

JENNY.

[_In a loud angry voice._] Oh, yes, I know her. You needn't introduce me. I've come for my husband.

BASIL.

Jenny, what are you saying?

JENNY.

Oh, I don't want any of your Society shams. I've come here to speak out.

BASIL.

[_To_ HILDA.] Would you mind leaving us alone?

JENNY.

[_Also to_ HILDA, _passionately_.] No, I want to speak to you. You're trying to get my husband from me. He's _my_ husband.

BASIL.

Be quiet, Jenny. Are you mad? Mrs. Murray, for God's sake leave us. She'll insult you.

JENNY.

You think of her, you don't think of me. You don't care how much I suffer.

BASIL.

[_Taking her arm._] Come away, Jenny.

JENNY.

[_Shaking him off._] I won't. You're afraid to let me see her.

HILDA.

[_Pale and trembling, conscience-stricken._] Let her speak.

JENNY.

[_Going up to_ HILDA _threateningly_.] You're stealing my husband from me. Oh, you.... [_She is at a loss for words violent enough._

HILDA.

I don't want to make you unhappy, Mrs. Kent.

JENNY.

You can't get round me with polite words. I'm sick of all that. I want to speak straight.

BASIL.

[_To_ HILDA.] Please go. You can do no good.

JENNY.

[_Still more vehemently._] You're stealing my husband from me. You're a wicked woman.

HILDA.

[_Almost in a whisper._] If you like I'll promise you never to see your husband again.

JENNY.

[_With angry scorn._] Much good your promises will do me. I wouldn't believe a word you said. I know what Society ladies are. We know all about them in the City.

BASIL.

[_To_ HILDA.] You _must_ leave us alone.

[_He opens the door, and she goes out, looking
away from him._

JENNY.

[_Savagely._] She's frightened of me. She daren't stand up to me.

BASIL.

[_As_ HILDA _goes_.] I'm so sorry.

JENNY.

You're sorry for her.

BASIL.

[_Turning on her._] Yes, I am. What d'you mean by coming here and behaving like this?

JENNY.

I've caught you at last.... You liar! You dirty liar! You told me you were going to Chancery Lane.

BASIL.

I have been to Chancery Lane.

JENNY.

Oh, I know you have--for five minutes. It was only an excuse. You might just as well have come here straight.

BASIL.

[_Angrily._] How dare you follow me?

JENNY.

I've got a right to follow you.

BASIL.

[_Unable to contain himself._] What d'you want here?

JENNY.

I want you. D'you think I didn't guess what was going on? I saw you come in with Halliwell. Then I saw him go out with his wife. Then another man went out, and I knew you were alone with her.

BASIL.

[_Sharply._] How did you know?

JENNY.

I gave the butler a sovereign, and he told me.

BASIL.

[_Looking for a word to express his contempt._] Oh, you ... you cad! It's only what I should have expected you to do.

JENNY.

And then I waited for you, and you didn't come. And at last I couldn't wait any longer.

BASIL.

Well, you've finished it now.

[JENNY _catches sight of a photograph of_ BASIL, _standing on a table_.

JENNY.

[_Pointing to it._] What's she got your photograph here for?

BASIL.

I gave it to Mrs. Murray before I was married.

JENNY.

She's got no right to keep it there.

[_She takes the photograph and flings it violently
on the floor._

BASIL.

Jenny, what are you doing?

[JENNY _digs her heel into it savagely, viciously_.

JENNY.

[_Hissing the words._] Oh, I hate her. I hate her.

BASIL.

[_Striving to contain himself._] You drive me perfectly mad. You'll make me say things that I shall regret all my life. For Heaven's sake, go.

JENNY.

I shan't go till you come with me.

BASIL.

[_Beside himself._] I choose to remain.

JENNY.

What d'you mean?

BASIL.

Look here, until to-day I swear to you before God that I've never done anything or said anything that you couldn't have known. Do you believe me?

JENNY.

I don't believe that you're not in love with that woman.

BASIL.

I don't ask you to.

JENNY.

What!

BASIL.

I said, until to-day I've been absolutely faithful to you. Heaven knows, I've tried to do my duty. I've done all I could to make you happy. And I've struggled with all my might to love you.

JENNY.

Say it out if you've got anything to say, I'm not afraid to hear.

BASIL.

I don't wish to deceive you. It's best that you should know what has happened.

JENNY.

[_Scornfully._] Now for another thumping lie.

BASIL.

This afternoon I told Hilda I loved her.... And she loves me too.

JENNY.

[_With a cry of rage._] Oh!

[_She hits at his face with her umbrella, but he
wards the blow, and, snatching the umbrella
from her, throws it away._

BASIL.

You've brought it on yourself. You made me too unhappy.

[JENNY, _panting and bewildered, stands helpless,
trying to control herself_.

BASIL.

And now it's the end. The life we led was impossible. I tried to do something that was beyond my power. I'm going away. I can't and I won't live with you any longer.

JENNY.

[_Frightened at herself and at what he says._] Basil, you don't mean that?

BASIL.

I've struggled against it for months. And now I'm beaten.

JENNY.

You've got me to count with. I won't let you go.

BASIL.

[_Bitterly._] What more d'you want? Isn't it enough that you've ruined my whole life?

JENNY.

[_Hoarsely._] You don't love me?

BASIL.

I never loved you.

JENNY.

Why did you marry me?

BASIL.

Because you made me.

JENNY.

[_In a whisper._] You never loved me--even at the beginning?

BASIL.

Never.

JENNY.

Basil!

BASIL.

It's too late now to keep it in. I must tell you and have done with it. _You've_ been having it out for months--now it's my turn.

JENNY.

[_Going up to him and trying to put her arm round his neck._] But I love you, Basil. I'll make you love me.

BASIL.

[_Shrinking from her._] Don't touch me!

JENNY.

[_With a movement of despair._] I really think you loathe me.

BASIL.

For Heaven's sake, Jenny, let us finish with it. I'm very sorry. I don't wish to be unkind to you. But you must have seen that--that I didn't care for you. What's the good of going on humbugging, and pretending, and making ourselves utterly wretched?

JENNY.

Yes, I've seen it. But I wouldn't believe it. When I've put my hand on your shoulder, I've seen that you could hardly help shuddering. And sometimes when I've kissed you, I've seen you put out all your strength to prevent yourself from pushing me away.

BASIL.

Jenny, I can't help it if I don't love you. I can't help it if I--if I love some one else.

JENNY.

[_Dazed and cowed._] What are you going to do?

BASIL.

I'm going away.

JENNY.

Where?

BASIL.

God knows.

[_There is a knock at the door._

BASIL.

Come in.

[_The_ BUTLER _enters with a note, which he gives
to_ BASIL.

BUTLER.

Mrs. Murray told me to give you this note, Sir.

BASIL.

[_Taking it._] Thank you.

[_He opens and reads it as the_ SERVANT _goes out
of the room, then looks up at_ JENNY, _who
is anxiously watching him_.

[_Reading._] "You may tell your wife that I've made up my mind to marry Mr. Brackley. I will never see you again."

JENNY.

What does she mean?

BASIL.

[_Bitterly._] Isn't it clear? Some one has asked her to marry him, and she means to accept.

JENNY.

But you said she loved you.

[_He shrugs his shoulders without answering._
JENNY _goes up to him imploringly_.

JENNY.

Oh, Basil, if it's true, give me another chance. She doesn't love you as I love you. I've been selfish and quarrelsome and exacting, but I've always loved you. Oh, don't leave me, Basil. Let me try once more if I can't make you care for me.

BASIL.

[_Looking down, hoarsely._] I'm very sorry. It's too late.

JENNY.

[_Despairingly._] Oh, God, what shall I do? And even though she's going to marry somebody else, you care for her better than any one else in the world?

BASIL.

[_In a whisper._] Yes.

JENNY.

And even if she does marry that other man she'll love you still. There's no room for me between you. I can go away like a discharged servant.... Oh, God! oh, God! what have I done to deserve it?

BASIL.

[_Touched by her utter misery._] I'm very sorry to make you so unhappy.

JENNY.

Oh, don't pity me. D'you think I want your pity now?

BASIL.

You had better come away, Jenny.

JENNY.

No. You've told me you don't want me any more. I shall go my own way.

BASIL.

[_Looks at her for a moment, hesitating; then shrugs his shoulders._] Then good-bye.

[_He goes out, and_ JENNY, _looking after him,
passes her hand wearily over her forehead_.

JENNY.

[_With a sigh._] He's so glad to go.... [_She gives a little sob._] They've got no room for me.

[_She takes up from the floor the photograph on
which she stamped, and looks at it; then
sinks down, burying her face in her hands,
and bursts into a passion of tears._

END OF THE THIRD ACT.

THE FOURTH ACT.

THE NEXT MORNING.

[_The scene is the same as in the Second Act, the drawing-room at
Basil's house in Putney._ BASIL _is sitting at the table, with his
head in his hands. He looks tired and worn; his face is very white,
and there are great black lines under his eyes. His hair is
dishevelled. On the table lies a revolver._

[_A knock at the door._

BASIL.

[_Without looking up._] Come in.

[FANNY _enters_.]

FANNY.

[_Subdued and pale._] I came to see if you wanted anything, sir.

BASIL.

[_Looking up at her slowly, his voice is dull and hoarse._] No.

FANNY.

Shall I open the windows, Sir? It's a beautiful morning.

BASIL.

No, I'm cold. Make up the fire.

FANNY.

Wouldn't you like a cup of tea? You ought to 'ave something after not going to bed all night.

BASIL.

I don't want anything.... Don't worry, there's a good woman.

[FANNY _puts coals on the fire, while BASIL
listlessly watches her_.

BASIL.

How long is it since you sent the telegrams?

FANNY.

I took them the moment the office was opened.

BASIL.

What's the time?

FANNY.

Well, sir, it must be 'alf-past nine by now.

BASIL.

Good Heavens, how slowly the hours go. I thought the night would never end.... Oh, God, what shall I do?

FANNY.

I'll make you a strong cup of tea. If you don't 'ave something to pull you together--I don't know what'll 'appen to you.

BASIL.

Yes, make it quickly, I'm thirsty.... And I'm so cold.

[_A ring at the front door is heard._

BASIL.

[_Jumping up._] There's some one at the door, Fanny. Hurry up.

[_She goes out, and he follows her to the door of
the room._

BASIL.

Fanny, don't let any one up beside Mr. Halliwell. Say I can see no one. [_He waits for a moment, anxiously._] Is that you, John?

JOHN.

[_Outside._] Yes.

BASIL.

[_To himself._] Thank God!

[JOHN _comes in_.

BASIL.

I thought you were never coming. I begged you to come at once.

JOHN.

I started immediately I got your wire.

BASIL.

It seems hours since the girl went to the post-office.

JOHN.

What's the matter?

BASIL.

[_Hoarsely._] Don't you know? I thought I had said it in my telegram.

JOHN.

You simply wired that you were in great trouble.

BASIL.

I suppose I thought you'd see it in the papers.

JOHN.

What on earth d'you mean? I've not seen a paper. Where's your wife?

BASIL.

[_After a pause, almost in a whisper._] She's dead.

JOHN.

[_Thunderstruck._] Good God!

BASIL.

[_Impatiently._] Don't look at me like that. Isn't it plain enough? Don't you understand?

JOHN.

But she was all right yesterday.

BASIL.

[_Dully._] Yes. She was all right yesterday.

JOHN.

For goodness sake tell me what you mean, Basil.

BASIL.

She's dead.... And she was all right yesterday.

[JOHN _does not understand. He is greatly
distressed, and does not know what to say._

BASIL.

I killed her--as surely as if I'd strangled her with my own hands.

JOHN.

What d'you mean? She's not really dead!

BASIL.

[_In agony._] She threw herself into the river last night.

JOHN.

How awful!

BASIL.

Haven't you got something more to say than how awful? I feel as if I were going mad.

JOHN.

But I can't understand! Why did she do it?

BASIL.

Oh--yesterday we had an awful row ... before you came.

JOHN.

I know.

BASIL.

Then she followed me to ... to your sister-in-law's. And she came up and made another scene. Then I lost my head. I was so furious, I don't know what I said. I was mad. I told her I'd have nothing more to do with her.... Oh, I can't bear it, I can't bear it.

[_He breaks down and hides his face in his hands,
sobbing._

JOHN.

Come, Basil--pull yourself together a bit.

BASIL.

[_Looking up despairingly._] I can hear her voice now. I can see the look of her eyes. She asked me to give her another chance, and I refused. It was so pitiful to hear the way she appealed to me, only I was mad, and I couldn't feel it.

[FANNY _comes in with the cup of tea, which_
BASIL _silently takes and drinks_.

FANNY.

[_To_ JOHN.] He ain't slept a wink all night, sir.... No more 'ave I, for the matter of that.