The Tyranny of Tears Part 3

Parbury.

Do you know, Miss Woodward, I believe you are more disappointed about that article than I am.

Miss Woodward.

I was certainly very interested.

Parbury.

Why?

Miss Woodward.

It was so strong! I admire strength.

Parbury.

[Smiling.] You are not then quite the machine one gets into the habit of imagining one's secretary to be?

Miss Woodward.

[Meeting his eye calmly and fearlessly for a moment.] I should like to be what you wish me to be.

Parbury.

[A little disconcerted.] Humph! [Stands with his hands in his pockets looking at her, while she is busy at the desk.]

[The door, L., suddenly opens. Parbury starts almost violently. Mrs. Parbury puts her head into the room.

Mrs. Parbury.

Darling, I've got rid of a would-be intruder for you. I thought you'd like to know.

Parbury.

Thank you, dear; who was it?

Mrs. Parbury.

A horrid person named Gunning. There's the creature's card. [Throws card into room on to chair by door L.] I knew you'd be pleased, darling! Tea in five minutes.

[Exit Mrs. Parbury, closing door.

Parbury.

Gunning! Not George surely? [Quickly gets the card.] It is! My dear old friend; I wouldn't miss seeing him for worlds! [Rushes to window, opens it, and bends out.] Why, there he is, going across the lawn! [Shouts.] George! George!! Hi! Gunning!!!

[Runs off, R.

Gunning.

[Outside, very distant.] Hullo, Clement!

Parbury.

[Outside.] Wait a moment, old chap!

[Miss Woodward goes up and looks through window, comes down, and with her handkerchief carefully dusts a photograph of Parbury which stands on book-case up L.C., then looks at the portrait of Mrs. Parbury, which is C. on wall over mantel, shrugs her shoulders slightly, returns to desk.

Enter Parbury and Gunning, R., through window.

Parbury.

[C., speaking as they enter.] Quite a mistake! I a.s.sure you, my dear fellow, my wife gave orders that I was not to be disturbed, thinking I was engaged upon an important piece of work.

Gunning.

[Looking at Miss Woodward.] Won't you present me to Mrs.-- Parbury.

[Hastily.] To Miss Woodward, my secretary-certainly! Mr. Gunning, Miss Woodward. [They bow. Miss Woodward moves to go.] Don't go, Miss Woodward. [Crosses to top of table, R.C. Gunning puts his hat and gloves on chair, L.] You might very kindly get rid of some of this correspondence for me. [Takes a bundle of letters from desk.] "Dear Sir,-I would esteem it a great favour if you would send me your photograph, together with your autograph." [Throws letter aside, and reads another.] "My dear Sir,-I have read with the deepest interest and the highest pleasure your deservedly successful novel, The Overthrow of Harvey Masterton,' and feel convinced that if you knew the story of my life--" [Repeats business.] No one can deal with these people like Miss Woodward.

Gunning.

[Taking off his gloves.] What is your method, Miss Woodward?

Miss Woodward.

It is Mr. Parbury's-perfect civility, consistent with finality.

[Sits at desk and writes letters.

Gunning.

Excellent! [Sits and addresses Parbury.] I suppose being a popular author entails a lot of correspondence?

Parbury.

Awful!

Gunning.

[L.C.] For my part, my correspondence is practically nil.

Parbury.

I have noticed it with pain.

Gunning.

Oh, I'd have written to you, but what was the good of it? I'm not literary, and I'm not married.

Parbury.

And so you've kept away for five years.

Gunning.

About that.

[Sits on arm of sofa, L.C.

Parbury.

Five years and three months-for I've been married all that time, and you neither came to the wedding nor called on me afterwards.

Gunning.

I was discreet.

Parbury.

Discreet! d.a.m.ned unfriendly, I call it, considering the years we had been pals.

Gunning.

Well, the rest of our old set stuck to you, anyway. What has become of them? Take Wybrow, for instance-an awful good chap!

Parbury.

Wybrow, Wybrow-what has become of Wybrow?

Gunning.

Never comes here, eh?

Parbury.

Well, he did a few times some years ago, but-- Gunning.

I understand-a little too Bohemian.

Parbury.

[Quickly.] Not for me, George, I a.s.sure you.

Gunning.

No, no, of course not, my dear chap. Exit Bohemian Wybrow. Then there was Carson-one of the best?

Parbury.

[Warmly.] Wasn't he a good fellow?

Gunning.

Capital! Where is he?

Parbury.

Married, you know.

Gunning.

So I heard. You meet constantly, of course?

Parbury.

No, we met them at Brighton one winter some years ago, but I don't think our wives quite-you understand, don't you?

Gunning.

Yes, yes, I understand. You dropped the Carsons. But Burleigh-- Parbury.

Burleigh-ah!

[Laughs.

Gunning.

There was a great spirit if you like; he was your best man.

Parbury.

Yes; he gave me this watch.

Gunning.

Which you still wear. Touching constancy! When did you see him last?

Parbury.

Wait a moment. What is all this interrogation for?

Gunning.

Idle curiosity if you like-study of life if you like. Come, out with it, when did you last have dear old Tom Burleigh to dinner?

Parbury.