Second Plays Part 56

MR. KNOWLE. An exacting programme. Well, I shall be in the library, if anybody wants to think of me--or say good-night to me--or anything like that.

JANE. Then I'd better say good-night to you now, Uncle Henry. (She goes up to him.)

MR. KNOWLE (kissing her). Good-night, dear.

JANE. Good-night.

MR. KNOWLE. If there's anybody else who wants to kiss me--what about you, Bobby? Or will you come into the library and have a smoke first?

BOBBY. Oh, I shall be going to bed directly, I think. Rather tired to-day, somehow.

MR. KNOWLE. Then good-night to you also. Dear me, what a business this is. Sandy has left us for ever, I understand. If she should come back, Jane, and wishes to kiss the top of my head, she will find it in the library--just above the back of the armchair nearest the door. [He goes out.

JANE. Did Sandy go out into the garden?

BOBBY (gloomily). Yes--about five minutes ago.

JANE (timidly). I'm so sorry, Bobby.

BOBBY. Thanks, it's awfully decent of you. (After a pause) Don't let's talk about it.

JANE. Of course I won't if it hurts you, Bobby. But I felt I _had_ to say something, I felt so sorry. You didn't mind, did you?

BOBBY. It's awfully decent of you to mind.

JANE (gently). I mind very much when my friends are unhappy.

BOBBY. Thanks awfully. (He stands up, b.u.t.tons his coat, and looks at himself) I say, do _you_ see anything wrong with it?

JANE. Wrong with what?

BOBBY. My clothes. (He revolves slowly.)

JANE. Of course not. They fit beautifully.

BOBBY. Sandy's so funny about things. I don't know what she means half the time.

JANE. Of course, I'm very fond of Melisande, but I do see what you mean. She's so (searching for the right word)--so _romantic_.

BOBBY (eagerly). Yes, that's just it. It takes a bit of living up to.

I say, have a cigarette, won't you?

JANE. No, thank you. Of course, I'm very fond of Melisande, but I do feel sometimes that I don't altogether envy the man who marries her.

BOBBY. I say, do you really feel that?

JANE. Yes. She's too (getting the right word at last)--too _romantic_.

BOBBY. You're about right, you know. I mean she talks about doing deeds of derring-do. Well, I mean that's all very well, but when one marries and settles down--you know what I mean?

JANE. Exactly. That's just how I feel about it. As I said to Melisande only this evening, this is the twentieth century. Well, I happen to like the twentieth century. That's all.

BOBBY. I see what you mean.

JANE. It may be very unromantic of me, but I like men to be keen on games, and to wear the clothes that everybody else wears--as long as they fit well, of course--and to talk about the ordinary things that everybody talks about. Of course, Melisande would say that that was very stupid and unromantic of me----

BOBBY. I don't think it is at all.

JANE. How awfully nice of you to say that, Bobby. You do understand so wonderfully.

BOBBY (with a laugh). I say, that's rather funny. I was just thinking the same about you.

JANE. I say, were you really? I'm so glad. I like to feel that we are really friends, and that we understand each other. I don't know whether I'm different from other girls, but I don't make friends very easily.

BOBBY. Do you mean men or women friends?

JANE. Both. In fact, but for Melisande and you, I can hardly think of any--not what you call real friends.

BOBBY. Melisande is a great friend, isn't she? You tell each other all your secrets, and that sort of thing, don't you?

JANE. Yes, we're great friends, but there are some things that I could never tell even her. (Impressively) I could never show her my inmost heart.

BOBBY. I don't believe about your not having any men friends. I bet there are hundreds of them, as keen on you as anything.

JANE. I wonder. It would be rather nice to think there were. That sounds horrid, doesn't it, but a girl can't help wanting to be liked.

BOBBY. Of course she can't; n.o.body can. I don't think it's a bit horrid.

JANE. How nice of you. (She gets up) Well, I must be going, I suppose.

BOBBY. What's the hurry?

JANE. Aunt Mary. She said five minutes.

BOBBY. And how long will you be with her? You'll come down again, won't you?

JANE. No, I don't think so. I'm rather tired this evening. (Holding out her hand) Good-night, Bobby.

BOBBY (taking it). Oh, but look here, I'll come and light your candle for you.

JANE. How nice of you!

(She manages to get her hand back, and they walk to the door together.)

BOBBY. I suppose I may as well go to bed myself.

JANE (at the door). Well, if you are, we'd better put the lights out.