Five Little Plays Part 15

SIR GEOFFREY. Jack knows all about my affairs; in fact, that's why I take the early train, to avoid his questions.

LADY TORMINSTER. You find it impossible to stay out your time here?

SIR GEOFFREY. Quite. There are moments when I am unpleasantly volcanic.

LADY TORMINSTER. Then I tell you the best thing to do. Don't take your trunks; just go up with a bag. Leave a note that you'll come back on Tuesday. Then write from town and say you're prevented.

SIR GEOFFREY. That's a good idea--yes, that's much better.

LADY TORMINSTER. And, if you find that you really cannot come back--

SIR GEOFFREY. Exactly; you'll forward my goods and chattels. And old Jack will ascribe it all to my wayward mood; he'll think I have found it too dull down here. I'm immensely obliged.

LADY TORMINSTER. [_With a smile._] Remark that I've not offered to be a sister to you.

SIR GEOFFREY. You've been superb. Oh, the good talk we've had! Do you know, I could almost wish old Jack to have heard what I said. I'm so fond of him, that grand old fellow, that I've been on the point of telling him, myself, more than once. For you know he _will_ have me take you about, and it's painful. Besides, I've felt it almost disloyal to--keep this thing from him. You understand, don't you?

LADY TORMINSTER. Yes.

SIR GEOFFREY. He and I almost are one, you see. It's not British to show any feeling, but really I--love him. And the devil comes along, and, of all women in the world, singles out Jack's wife, and fills my heart with her. That's the devil's sense of humour.

LADY TORMINSTER. Perhaps he has read Bernard Shaw. But you must never let Jack know--never.

SIR GEOFFREY. I suppose not. He's so direct, so single-minded, that the shock would be terrible. But I'm not to blame. How could I help it? Oh, all that cackle about being master of one's fate!

LADY TORMINSTER. Two years in China--

SIR GEOFFREY. We'll hope so. Of course, it didn't matter about my telling you, because you knew already.

LADY TORMINSTER. [_Nodding_] Yes, I knew. Although--

SIR GEOFFREY. Oh, you've done what you could! I've felt, in a hundred subtle ways, how you almost implored me--not to. Well, there it is. I'll write that note at once.

[_He sits at the table and begins to write._

LADY TORMINSTER. I'm sorry you are so lonely.

SIR GEOFFREY. That's my fault, too--the fault of the ridiculous cla.s.s to which we belong. I don't do anything.

LADY TORMINSTER. Why not?

SIR GEOFFREY. What would you have me do? Go into the House? Thank you, I've been there. You spend your time on the Terrace or in the smoke-room till a m.u.f.fin-bell rings; then you gravely walk into the lobby, where an energetic gentleman counts you as Polyphemus counted his sheep.

Philanthropy! Well, I've tried that, but it's not in my line. I'm quite a respectable landlord, but a fellow can't live all by himself in a great Elizabethan barrack. Town--the Season? Christian mothers invite you to inspect their daughters' shoulders, with a view to purchase. I'm tired of golf and polo; I'm tired of bridge. So I'll try the good sea and the open plains; sleep in a tent and watch the stars twinkle--the stars that make you afraid.

LADY TORMINSTER. Yes, I'm afraid of the stars.

SIR GEOFFREY. Why?

LADY TORMINSTER. You remember the Persian poet? "I too have said to the stars and the wind, I will. But the wind and the stars have mocked me--they have laughed in my face...."

SIR GEOFFREY. [_A little uncomfortable._] Persian poets, like all poets, have a funny way of pretending that the stars take an interest in us. To me, it's their chief charm that they're so unconcerned. They are lonely, too.

LADY TORMINSTER. [_Suddenly, violently._] Don't say that again--don't--I can't bear it!

SIR GEOFFREY. [_Aghast._] Gertrude!!!

LADY TORMINSTER. [_In a whisper._] Yes.

[_He stares haggardly at her; she does not move, but looks out, through the open window, into the night._

SIR GEOFFREY. [_With a deep breath._] Well, I suppose we had better turn in--

LADY TORMINSTER. When do you go to China?

SIR GEOFFREY. I shall take the first boat.

LADY TORMINSTER. And you will come back--?

SIR GEOFFREY. In a year--or two--or three--

LADY TORMINSTER. We shall hear from you?

SIR GEOFFREY. [_With an effort of lightness._] Certainly. And I will send you chests of tea--best family Souchong--and jars of ginger. Also little boxes that fit into each other. I am afraid that is all I know at present of Chinese manufactures.

LADY TORMINSTER. [_Musing._] You will be away so long?

SIR GEOFFREY. You told me to do something. I shall learn Chinese. I believe there are five hundred letters in the alphabet.

LADY TORMINSTER. As many as that!

SIR GEOFFREY. It is possible that I exaggerate. Well, Lady Torminster, I think I'll say good-night.

[_He offers his hand, which she ignores. She smiles, and motions him back to his seat._

LADY TORMINSTER. The sun is still shining in the antipodes, my dear Geoffrey, and you are still Jack's old friend, talking to Jack's wife. Sit down, and don't be foolish. You'll be away for years; it's possible we may never meet again. It's possible, too, that next time we do meet you may be married.

SIR GEOFFREY. [_With iron control._] Who knows?

LADY TORMINSTER. Exactly--who knows? So there's no reason why we shouldn't look each other squarely in the face for once, and speak out what's in us.

SIR GEOFFREY. [_Sorrowfully._] Oh, Lady Torminster, what is there to say?

LADY TORMINSTER. [_Bending forward a little and smiling._] How you resent my having told _you!_

SIR GEOFFREY. [_With a guilty start._] Resent! I!

LADY TORMINSTER. You do, and you know it. In your heart you are saying, "All was going so well--she has spoiled it! If she _does_ love me she shouldn't have said it--Jack's wife!"