Second Plays Part 54

(After a pause) Sometimes I think I shall never marry.

BOBBY. Oh, rot! . . . I say, you do _like_ me, don't you?

MELISANDE. Oh yes. You are a nice, clean-looking Englishman--I don't say beautiful--

BOBBY. I should hope not!

MELISANDE. Pleasant, good at games, dependable--not very clever, perhaps, but making enough money--

BOBBY. Well, I mean, that's not so bad.

MELISANDE. Oh, but I want so much more!

BOBBY. What sort of things?

MELISANDE. Oh, Bobby, you're so--so ordinary!

BOBBY. Well, dash it all, you didn't want me to be a freak, did you?

MELISANDE. So--commonplace. So--unromantic.

BOBBY. I say, steady on! I don't say I'm always reading poetry and all that, if that's what you mean by romantic, but--commonplace! I'm blessed if I see how you make out that.

MELISANDE. Bobby, I don't want to hurt your feelings--

BOBBY. Go on, never mind my feelings.

MELISANDE. Well then, look at yourself in the gla.s.s!

(BOBBY goes anxiously to the gla.s.s, and then pulls at his clothes.)

BOBBY (looking back at her). Well?

MELISANDE. Well!

BOBBY. I don't see what's wrong.

MELISANDE. Oh, Bobby, everything's wrong. The man to whom I give myself must be not only my lover, but my true knight, my hero, my prince. He must perform deeds of derring-do to win my love. Oh, how can you perform deeds of derring-do in a stupid little suit like that!

BOBBY (looking at it). What's the matter with it? It's what every other fellow wears.

MELISANDE (contemptuously). What every other fellow wears! And you think what every other fellow thinks, and talk what every other fellow talks, and eat what every other--I suppose _you_ didn't like the bread-sauce this evening?

BOBBY (guardedly). Well, not as bread-sauce.

MELISANDE (nodding her head). I thought so, I thought so.

BOBBY (struck by an idea). I say, you didn't make it, did you?

MELISANDE. Do I look as if I made it?

BOBBY. I thought perhaps--You know, I really don't know what you _do_ want, Sandy. Sorry; I mean--

MELISANDE. Go on calling me Sandy, I'd rather you did.

BOBBY. Well, when you marry this prince of yours, is _he_ going to do the cooking? I don't understand you, Sandy, really I don't.

MELISANDE (shaking her head gently at him). No, I'm sure you don't, Bobby.

BOBBY (still trying, however). I suppose it's because he's doing the cooking that he won't be able to dress for dinner. He sounds a funny sort of chap; I should like to see him.

MELISANDE. You wouldn't understand him if you did see him.

BOBBY (jealously). Have you seen him?

MELISANDE. Only in my dreams.

BOBBY (relieved). Oh, well.

MELISANDE (dreamily to herself). Perhaps I shall never see him in this world--and then I shall never marry. But if he ever comes for me, he will come not like other men; and because he is so different from everybody else, then I shall know him when he comes for me. He won't talk about bread-sauce--billiards--and the money market. He won't wear a little black suit, with a little black tie--all sideways. (BOBBY hastily pulls his tie straight.) I don't know how he will be dressed, but I know this, that when I see him, that when my eyes have looked into his, when his eyes have looked into mine--

BOBBY. I say, steady!

MELISANDE (waking from her dream). Yes? (She gives a little laugh) Poor Bobby!

BOBBY (appealingly). I say, Sandy! (He goes up to her.)

(MRS. KNOWLE has seized this moment to come back for her handkerchief.

She sees them together, and begins to walk out on tiptoe.)

(They hear her and turn round suddenly.)

MRS. KNOWLE (in a whisper). Don't take any notice of me. I only just came for my handkerchief. (She continues to walk on tiptoe towards the opposite door.)

MELISANDE (getting up). We were just wondering where you were, Mother.

Here's your handkerchief. (She picks it up from the sofa.)

MRS. KNOWLE (still in the voice in which you speak to an invalid).

Thank you, dear. Don't let me interrupt you--I was just going--

MELISANDE. But I am just going into the garden. Stay and talk to Bobby, won't you?

MRS. KNOWLE (with a happy smile, hoping for the best). Yes, my darling.

MELISANDE (going to the windows). That's right. (She stops at the windows and holds out her hands to the night)--

The moon s.h.i.+nes bright: In such a night as this When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees And they did make no noise, in such a night Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls, And sighed his soul towards the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night. In such a night Stood Dido with a willow in her hand, Upon the wild sea banks, and waft her love To come again to Carthage.

(She stays there a moment, and then says in a thrilling voice) In such a night! Ah!