Second Plays Part 47

KATE. I agree, Dennis.

DENNIS. Good. (He spins a coin, puts it on the back of his hand, and says to NORWOOD) Call!

NORWOOD. What on _earth_--

DENNIS. Choice of innings.

NORWOOD. I never heard of anything so--Tails.

DENNIS (uncovering it). Heads. You shall have first knock.

NORWOOD (bewildered). What do you--I don't--

DENNIS. You have five minutes in which to lay your case before Mrs.

Camberley. (He looks at his watch) Five minutes--and then I shall come back. . . . Is there a fire in the dining-room, Kate?

KATE (smiling in spite of herself). A gas-fire; it isn't lit.

DENNIS. Then I shall light it. (to NORWOOD) That will make the room nice and warm for you by the time you've finished. (He goes to the door and says again) Five minutes.

(There is an awkward silence after he is gone. KATE waits for NORWOOD to say something, but NORWOOD doesn't know in the least what is expected of him.)

NORWOOD (looking anxiously at the door). What's the fellow's game, eh?

KATE. Game?

NORWOOD. Yes. What's he up to?

KATE. Is he up to anything?

NORWOOD. I don't like it. Why the devil did he choose to-day to come back? If he'd waited another week, we'd have been safely away together. What's his game, I wonder?

(He walks up and down, worrying it out.)

KATE. I don't think he's playing a game. He's just giving me my chance.

NORWOOD. What chance?

KATE. A chance to decide between you.

NORWOOD. You've decided that, Kate. You've had a year to think about it in, and you've decided. We love each other; you're coming away with me; that's all settled. Only . . . what the deuce is he up to?

KATE (sitting down and talking to herself). You're quite right about my not knowing him. . . . How one rushed into marriage in those early days of the war--knowing nothing about each other. And then they come back, and even the little one thought one did know is different. . . . I suppose he feels the same about me.

NORWOOD (to himself). d.a.m.n him!

KATE (after a pause). Well, Cyril?

NORWOOD (looking sharply round at her). Well?

KATE. We haven't got very long.

NORWOOD (looking at his watch). He really means to come back--in five minutes?

KATE. You heard him say so.

NORWOOD (going up to her and speaking eagerly). What's the matter with slipping out now? You've got a hat here. We can slip out quietly. He won't hear us. He'll come back and find us gone--well, what can he do?

Probably he'll hang about for a bit and then go to his club. We'll have a bit of dinner; ring up your maid; get her to meet you with some things, and go off by the night mail. Scotland--anywhere you like. Let the whole business simmer down a bit. We don't want any melodramatic eighteenth-century nonsense.

KATE. Go out now, and not wait for him to have _his_ five minutes?

NORWOOD (impatiently). What does he _want_ with five minutes? What's the _good_ of it to him? Just to take a pathetic farewell of you, and pretend that you've ruined his life, when all the time he's chuckling in his sleeve at having got rid of you so easily. _I_ know these young fellows. Some Major's wife in India is what _he's_ got his eye on. . . .

Or else he'll try fooling around with the hands-up business. You don't want to be mixed up with any scandal of _that_ sort. No, the best thing we can do--I'm speaking for _your_ sake, Kate--is to slip off quietly, while we've got the chance. We can _write_ and explain all that we want to explain.

KATE (looking wonderingly at him--another man whom she doesn't know).

Is that playing quite fair to Dennis?

NORWOOD. Good Lord, this isn't a game! Camberley may think so with his tossing-up and all the rest of it, but you and I aren't children.

Everything's fair in a case like this. Put your hat on--quickly--(he gets it for her)--here you are--

KATE (standing up). I'm not sure, Cyril.

NORWOOD. What d'you mean?

KATE. He expects me to wait for him.

NORWOOD. If it comes to that, he expected you to wait for him four years ago.

KATE. Yes. . . . (Quietly) Thank you for reminding me.

NORWOOD. Kate, don't be stupid. What's happened to you? Of course, I know it's been beastly upsetting for you, all this--but then, why do you want to go on with it? Why do you want _more_ upsetting scenes?

You've got a chance now of getting out of it all, and--(He looks at his watch) Good Lord!

KATE. Is the five minutes over?

NORWOOD. Quick, quick! (He puts his fingers to his lips) Quietly. (He walks on tiptoe to the door.)

KATE. Cyril!

NORWOOD. H'sh!

KATE (sitting down again). It's no good, Cyril, I must wait for him.

(The door opens, and NORWOOD starts back quickly as DENNIS comes in.)

DENNIS (looking at his watch). Innings declared closed. (to NORWOOD) The dining-room is nicely warmed now, and I've left you an evening paper.