The Tyranny of Tears Part 8

[Indifferently.] Oh!

Re-enter Evans, R., from garden, and exit L. Silence till he has gone.

Parbury.

Well, you don't seem surprised.

Gunning.

[Effecting a yawn.] I never permit myself to be surprised.

Parbury.

Or disappointed.

Gunning.

Oh yes, I own I'm disappointed. I looked for a good time for a few days. You were the only one of the old lot available, and you were the best of them. I can't bear the new lot. They wear strange colours, drop their "g's," and get on one's nerves.

Parbury.

I'm really sorry, George.

Gunning.

Don't bother. One simply goes alone. [Discreetly.] The calls of business are often irresistible.

Parbury.

Don't rot. You know what the situation is.

Gunning.

Mine is one of those poor intelligences that never know without information.

Parbury.

I'll supply it.

[Sits on arm of chair, R.C.

Gunning.

Don't, if it matters.

Parbury.

I will, though it does matter. [Grimly.] My wife wept.

Gunning.

Unanswerable argument.

Parbury.

Quite. George, what the devil is a man to do?

Gunning.

I knew a man who once interfered between a husband and wife who were disagreeing. The husband and wife each got a black eye. The man got two.

Parbury.

You might at least talk.

Gunning.

Oh, certainly.

Parbury.

You know the situation.

Gunning.

Well, if one dare say so, I fancy you are suffering from the tyranny of a fascinating egoism.

Parbury.

I'm suffering from the tyranny of tears.

Gunning.

What I can't understand is how a man of your strong nature arrived where you are.

Parbury.

I'll make an effort to tell you. To begin with, I suppose I'm fairly good-natured.

Gunning.

Oh yes!

Parbury.

Or say, if you like, of indolent habit, which after all often pa.s.ses for the same thing. Then of course I was in love-I am still. One drifted. It's so easy to give way in little things-really not unpleasant when you're in love. And then there's one's work, which fills the mind and makes the little things appear smaller than they are. I say one drifted.

Gunning.

Sometimes, if I know you, you rebelled. What then?

Parbury.

[Promptly.] Tears! And over such absurdly paltry things! Oh, the farcical tragedy of it all! I wished to go shooting for a few days. Tears! I fancied dining and spending the evening with an old chum. Tears! I would go on a walking tour for a week. Tears! Some one would ask me for three days' hunting. Tears! Tears, you understand, always on hand. Tears-tears-tears ad-- [Pulling himself up.] No.

Gunning.

[Quietly.] No-not ad nauseam.

Parbury.

No, that would be too low a thing to say.

[Goes up R.C. Takes stopper out of the decanter.

Gunning.

Do you know, Clement, I really like you tremendously.

Parbury.

Thanks, old man. Have some more brandy?

Gunning.

No thanks. [Pause.] Don't stop. I'm interested.

Parbury.

That's all. I drifted, almost unconsciously, right up to to-day, for all the world like the man in the moral story-book one read as a child on Sundays, who drifted in his boat on the Erie River towards Niagara. To-night I'm conscious-I'm awake-I can feel the water gliding along the boat's keel. I can see Niagara. I don't like it. What the devil's one to do?

Gunning.

Get out and walk.

[Pause. They smoke.

Parbury.

Of course, I shall change it all. I must, but it will be beastly work.

Gunning.

Beastly. When do you begin?

Parbury.

When occasion serves. I can't go back over this yachting business. I've said I'm not going.

Gunning.

Quite right.

[Slight pause.

Parbury.

Oh, if the exigeant women only knew-if they only knew!

Enter Colonel Armitage, R.

Talking of brandies, this is Hennessy '63. Have some, Colonel?

Colonel.

Perhaps half a gla.s.s.

[Takes brandy and sits.

Enter Mrs. Parbury, L., from drawing-room.

Mrs. Parbury.

Miss Woodward and I are boring each other. Shall we come to you, or will you come to us? [Gunning and Armitage rise.] There, the question's answered.

[Sits on sofa, L.

Enter Miss Woodward, L. She goes to the desk.

Gunning.

[To Mrs. Parbury.] You were playing the piano just now?

Mrs. Parbury.

Yes, but I play wretchedly nowadays. I gave up practising when we married.

Gunning.

One should never give up an accomplishment.

Colonel.

You used to play charmingly, Mabel.

Mrs. Parbury.

You thought so, dear, and that was enough for me. [She rises and crosses to C.] Why don't we sit in the garden? It's a perfect night. [Colonel strolls off to garden.] [Mrs. Parbury goes to Parbury, who is standing by fireplace, and takes his arm. In a low voice.] Are you still angry?