The Melting-Pot Part 12

You see there's lemon for you--as in Russia.

[_Exit to kitchen--a moment afterwards the merry music stops in the middle of a bar._]

VERA Thank you.

[_Taking a cup._]

Do _you_ like lemon, Mr. Davenport?

QUINCY [_Flirtatiously_]

That depends. The last I had was in Russia itself--from the fair hands of your mother, the Baroness.

VERA [_Pained_]

Please don't say my mother, my mother is dead.

QUINCY [_Fatuously misunderstanding_]

Oh, you have no call to be ashamed of your step-mother--she's a stunning creature; all the points of a tip-top Russian aristocrat, or Quincy Davenport's no judge of breed! Doesn't speak English like your father--but then the Baron is a wonder.

VERA [_Takes up teapot_]

Father once hoped to be British Amba.s.sador--that's why _I_ had an English governess. But you never told me you met him in _Russia_.

QUINCY Surely! When I gave you all those love messages----

VERA [_Pouring tea quickly_]

You said you met him at Wiesbaden.

QUINCY Yes, but we grew such pals I motored him and the Baroness back to St.

Petersburg. Jolly country, Russia--they know how to live.

VERA [_Coldly_]

I saw more of those who know how to die.... Milk and sugar?

QUINCY [_Sentimentally_]

Oh, Miss Revendal! Have you forgotten?

VERA [_Politely snubbing_]

How should I remember?

QUINCY You don't remember our first meeting? At the Settlement Bazaar? When I paid you a hundred dollars for every piece of sugar you put in?

VERA Did you? Then I hope you drank syrup.

QUINCY Ugh! I hate sugar--I sacrificed myself.

VERA To the Settlement? How heroic of you!

QUINCY No, not to the Settlement. To you!

VERA Then I'll only put milk in.

QUINCY I hate milk. But from you----

VERA Then we _must_ fall back on the lemon.

QUINCY I loathe lemon. But from----

VERA Then you shall have your tea neat.

QUINCY I detest tea, and here it would be particularly cheap and nasty. But----

VERA Then you shall have a cake!

[_She offers plate._]

QUINCY [_Taking one_]

Would they be eatable?

[_Tasting it._]

Humph! Not bad.

[_Sentimentally_]

A little cake was all you would eat the only time you came to one of my private concerts. Don't you remember? We went down to supper together.

VERA [_Taking his tea for herself and putting in lemon_]

I shall always remember the delicious music Herr Pappelmeister gave us.

QUINCY How unkind of you!

VERA Unkind?

[_She sips the tea and puts down the cup._]

To be grateful for the music?

QUINCY You know what I mean--to forget _me_!

[_He tries to take her hand._]

VERA [_Rising_]

Aren't you forgetting yourself?

QUINCY You mean because I'm married to that patched-and-painted creature? She's hankering for the stage again, the old witch.

VERA Hus.h.!.+ Marriages with comic opera stars are not usually domestic idylls.

QUINCY I fell a victim to my love of music.

VERA [_Murmurs, smiling_]

Music!

QUINCY And I hadn't yet met the right breed--the true blue blood of Europe.

I'll get a divorce.

[_Approaching her_]

Vera!

VERA [_Retreating_]

You will make me sorry I came to you.