Three Plays by Granville-Barker Part 110

FRANCES. Ah, but once you've tasted the common joys of life . . once you've proved all your rights as a man or woman . . .

MRS. FARRANT. Then there are subtler things to miss. As well be alone like you, or dead like him, without them . . I sometimes think.

FRANCES. [_Responsive, lifted from egoism, reading her friend's mind._]

You demand much.

MRS. FARRANT. I wish that he had demanded much of any woman.

FRANCES. You know how this misery began? That poor little wretch . .

she's lying dead too. They're both dead together now. Do you think they've met . . ?

JULIA _grips both her hands and speaks very steadily to help her friend back to self control_.

MRS. FARRANT. George told me as soon as he was told. I tried to make him understand my opinion, but he thought I was only shocked.

FRANCES. I was sorry for her. Now I can't forgive her either.

MRS. FARRANT. [_Angry, remorseful, rebellious._] When will men learn to know one woman from another?

FRANCES. [_With answering bitterness._] When will all women care to be one thing rather than the other?

_They are stopped by the sound of the opening of_ KENT'S _door_. WALTER _comes from his room, some papers from his table held listlessly in one hand. He is crying, undisguisedly, with a child's grief._

KENT. Oh . . am I in your way . . ?

FRANCES. I didn't know you were still here, Walter.

KENT. I've been going through the letters as usual. I don't know why, I'm sure. They won't have to be answered now . . will they?

WEDGECROFT _comes back, grave and tense_.

WEDGECROFT. Horsham has gone. He thought perhaps you'd be staying with Miss Trebell for a bit.

MRS. FARRANT. Yes, I shall be.

WEDGECROFT. I must go too . . it's nearly eleven.

FRANCES. To the =other= inquest?

_This stirs her two listeners to something of a shudder._

WEDGECROFT. Yes.

MRS. FARRANT. [_In a low voice._] It will make no difference now . . I mean . . still nothing need come out? We needn't know why he . . why he did it.

WEDGECROFT. When he talked to me last night, and I didn't know what he was talking of. . .

FRANCES. He was waiting this morning for Lord Horsham's note. . .

MRS. FARRANT. [_In real alarm._] Oh, it wasn't because of the Cabinet trouble . . you must persuade Cyril Horsham of that. You haven't told him . . he's so dreadfully upset as it is. I've been swearing it had nothing to do with that.

WEDGECROFT. [_Cutting her short, bitingly._] Has a time ever come to you when it was easier to die than to go on living? Oh . . I told Lord Horsham just what I thought.

_He leaves them, his own grief unexpressed._

FRANCES. [_Listlessly._] Does it matter why?

MRS. FARRANT. Need there be more suffering and reproaches? It's not as if even grief would do any good. [_Suddenly with nervous caution._]

Walter, you don't know, do you?

WALTER _throws up his tear-marked face and a man's anger banishes the boyish grief_.

WALTER. No, I don't know why he did it . . and I don't care. And grief is no use. I'm angry . . just angry at the waste of a good man. Look at the work undone . . think of it! Who is to do it! Oh . . the waste . . !