The Tyranny of Tears Part 6

Gunning.

And one's happiness once found is worth fighting for?

Mrs. Parbury.

[Firmly.] Worth fighting very hard for!

Gunning.

[Drily.] Of course. [Aside.] Poor Burleigh!

[Lights cigarette.

Mrs. Parbury.

You, I suppose, have never met a woman who could make you happy?

Gunning.

I have never met a woman whom I was sure of being able to make happy.

Mrs. Parbury.

[Slightly embarra.s.sed.] Oh!

Gunning.

And, anyway, the state of marriage has always appeared to me to be a state of warfare.

Mrs. Parbury.

Mr. Gunning, you little know-- Gunning.

I admit the case of you and Clement to be an exceptional one. I'm talking of ordinary cases-the average marriage; there you will find, according to my observation, an endless war-a war of self-interests, a war of opposing emotions, a war of irreconcilable nervous organisations-- Mrs. Parbury.

Oh, Mr. Gunning!

Gunning.

Viewed from the hill-tops rather a pitiful sort of war, in which can be won neither the full joys of love nor the complete glories of battle.

Mrs. Parbury.

Oh, Mr. Gunning!

Gunning.

I remain single, Mrs. Parbury, quite without happiness-except in the reflection that I am neither an oppressor exercising a daily tyranny, nor a slave rightly struggling to be free.

Mrs. Parbury.

Of course I don't in the least agree with you. [The telephone bell rings.] [Rising.] There's some one on the telephone-forgive me. [Goes to telephone box and puts the communicator to her ear.] Are you there?-yes-who are you?-the article-yes-no, you can't have it to-day-no, it hasn't a million to one chance of being finished. [To Gunning, with a smile.] That's Clement's slang, not mine. [Again into telephone.] What?

Enter Parbury and Miss Woodward, R.

I say it hasn't a million to one chance of being finished.

Parbury.

What? Who is it?

Mrs. Parbury.

It's the Sat.u.r.day Sentinel.

Parbury.

But, my dear, the article is finished. [Rushes to telephone.] [Miss Woodward and Gunning are laughing secretly. Mrs. Parbury stands C., rather confused.] [At telephone.] Hullo! Hullo! Are you there? [Rings violently.] Hullo-oh! is that you, Jackson? . . . what's the matter? [Rather a long pause. He smiles while listening.] No, no, not at all, my dear chap. What was said was, It's a million to one you'll have the copy in half-an-hour'-eh?-yes, those were the very words . . . no, quite a mistake, you don't listen properly. A messenger has just gone off in a cab with it. What? Yes. [Laughs.] All right! Good-bye!

Mrs. Parbury.

[Seeing Miss Woodward laughing.] I really don't know what there is to laugh at, Miss Woodward.

Miss Woodward.

I was only smiling at the messenger in the cab.

[Folds MS. and puts it in envelope.

Parbury.

Yes, send some one at once, please, Miss Woodward.

[Exit Miss Woodward, R.V.E.

Mrs. Parbury.

It wasn't my fault, dear. You know you did use those words.

Parbury.

My fault entirely. [Aside to Gunning.] Have you told her?

Gunning.

What?

Parbury.

About the yachting?

Gunning.

Why, of course not. That's your affair, my dear fellow.

Parbury.

[His hand on Gunning's shoulder.] Mabel, dear, we're going yachting for a few days. I think I want a little change.

Mrs. Parbury.

[Coming towards them, brightly.] Oh, what a good idea! When do we go? [Parbury and Gunning look at each other.] Are you coming, Mr. Gunning?

[Parbury presses Gunning forward. Gunning looks round at Parbury reproachfully. Parbury goes up stage.

Gunning.

[Embarra.s.sed.] Well, it's my yacht, Mrs. Parbury, but she's very small-only a little tub of a thing; and- [Looks at his watch.] By Jove! I'll never be able to dress and get back for dinner if I don't hurry. [Gets his hat and gloves, L. Goes up quickly.] I need only say au revoir; don't trouble, Clement, I'll find my way out-au revoir!

[Exit Gunning, L.

[Mrs. Parbury, who is puzzled, sits on sofa.

Parbury.

[Calling after Gunning.] Dinner at eight, remember.

Gunning.

[Outside.] All right!

Parbury.

[Shuts the door.] Capital fellow, George Gunning!

[Comes to back of sofa.

Mrs. Parbury.

What does he mean by a little tub of a thing? Surely we're not-- Parbury.

No, dear, certainly not. You're quite right. I wouldn't think of letting you run any risks.

Mrs. Parbury.

Then we're not going?

Parbury.

No, dear; that is to say, Gunning and I are going.

Mrs. Parbury.

[Rising, aghast.] Without me?

Parbury.

Only for a few days, of course.

[Laughing feebly.

Mrs. Parbury.

You are not serious?

Parbury.

Quite!

[His laugh becomes feebler.

Mrs. Parbury.

But-but you never go away without me!

Parbury.

I haven't hitherto, but-- Mrs. Parbury.

Well?

[Appears about to cry.

Parbury.

I've been working very hard, you know, lately. I feel I want a change.

Mrs. Parbury.

[Tearfully.] It doesn't occur to you that I might want a change.

Parbury.

Well, have one, dear. Aunt Martha would be delighted to have you at Oaklands.

Mrs. Parbury.

I don't want to go to Aunt Martha. How would you like to go to Aunt Martha?