ACT IV
The bedroom in the cottage, same as Act I. It is nine o’clock in the morning. GRAINGER and BRENTNALL are in bed.
GRAINGER: Billy! (No answer.) You mean to say you’re at it yet? (No answer.) Well, I’ll be damned; you’re a better sleeper even than a liar. (No answer.) Oh strike! (Shies a pillow at BRENTNALL.)
BRENTNALL: What the — !
GRAINGER: I should say so.
BRENTNALL: Dog in the manger! Go to sleep. I loathe the small hours. Oh-h! (Yawns.)
GRAINGER: Small hours, begad! It’s past nine o’clock.
BRENTNALL (half asleep): Early, frostily early.
GRAINGER: You mean to say — ! (He shies the bolster, viciously.)
BRENTNALL: Don’t, George! (Sleeps.)
GRAINGER: Devil! (Shies slippers, one after the other.)
BRENTNALL (sitting up suddenly — furious): Go to blazes! (Lies down again.)
GRAINGER: If you go to sleep again, Billy B., I’ll empty the water bottle over you — I will.
BRENTNALL: I’m not asleep.
GRAINGER: Billy!
BRENTNALL: What?
GRAINGER: Did you square Sally?
BRENTNALL: Eh?
GRAINGER: No, look here, Billy —
BRENTNALL (stretching his arms): Georgie, you ought to be dead.
GRAINGER: I’ve no doubt. Billy Brentnall!
BRENTNALL: What?
GRAINGER: Did you square Sally?
BRENTNALL: Sally — Sally — Sally —
GRAINGER: Chuck it, fool.
BRENTNALL: I don’t know.
GRAINGER: What d’you mean?
BRENTNALL: I told her you were a married man with a family, and begad, you look it —
GRAINGER: That’s not the point.
BRENTNALL: I apologize. I say to Sally: “He’s a married man.” Sally says to me: “He’s not.” I say: “He is.” Sally says: “I’m dizzy.” I say: “You might well be.”
GRAINGER: Chuck it, do chuck it.
BRENTNALL: It’s the solemn fact. And our confab ended there.
GRAINGER: It did!
BRENTNALL: It did.
GRAINGER: Hm!
BRENTNALL: You’re going to London to my rooms, aren’t you?
GRAINGER: You say so.
BRENTNALL: Very well then — there’s an end of Sally.
GRAINGER: I’m not so sure.
BRENTNALL: Why?
GRAINGER: She said she was coming round here.
BRENTNALL: When?
GRAINGER: This morning.
BRENTNALL: Then don’t get up till this afternoon, and then belt for the station.
GRAINGER: I’ve not settled up at the Surgery.
BRENTNALL: Thou bungler — has Sally really got a case against you?
GRAINGER: She’s got a case against some man or other, and she’d prefer it to be me.
BRENTNALL: But she must see you’re quite a cold egg. And has Charlie Greenhalgh really cried off?
GRAINGER: No — at least — poor old Charlie’s in a bit of a mess.
BRENTNALL: How?
GRAINGER: He was secretary to the football club — and he falsified the balance sheet, and failed to produce about fifteen quid.
BRENTNALL: He’s not in a very rosy condition for marriage. However, old Magneer’s not short of money?
GRAINGER: He isn’t, begad!
BRENTNALL: Alright — let him work the oracle. Sally’s no fool — and she’ll be just as well, married to Charlie. You say his farm is going to the dogs. Alright, she’ll shoo the dogs off.
GRAINGER: Very nice.
BRENTNALL: I think so.
GRAINGER: Who’s that?
BRENTNALL: Dunno — get under the bed-clothes.
Sound of footsteps — enter JACK MAGNEER.
JACK: Letting the day get well aired?
BRENTNALL: I don’t believe in running risks through the chill, damp air of early morning.
JACK: I s’d think you don’t.
BRENTNALL: Take a seat.
JACK: So you’re going to-day, George?
GRAINGER: I am, Jack — and sorry to leave you.
JACK: What’s this our Sally’s been telling me?
GRAINGER: Couldn’t say, Jack.
JACK: As you’re married —
BRENTNALL: And got a kid, quite right.
JACK: Is it, George?
GRAINGER: I believe so.
JACK: Hm! (A pause.)
BRENTNALL: Well, Jack, say he has your sympathy.
JACK: Yis — yis — he has. But I’m not so sure —
BRENTNALL: Eh Jack, it’s a hole we might any of us slip into.
JACK: Seemingly. But why didn’t you tell me, George?
BRENTNALL: Don’t, Jack. Don’t you see, I could give the whole of that recitation. “We’ve been good friends, George, and you’d no need to keep me in the dark like that. It’s a false position for me, as well as for you, etc., etc.” That’s what you want to say?
JACK: Yis — and besides —
BRENTNALL: Well, look here, Jack, you might have done it yourself. George was let in down at Wolverhampton — kicked out of the town because he owned up and married the girl — hadn’t either a penny or a job — girl has a good home. Would you have wanted to tell the whole story to these prating fools round here?
JACK: No, I can’t say as I should. But then —
BRENTNALL: Then what?
JACK: There’s our Sally, and there’s Annie —
BRENTNALL: What about ‘em?
JACK: He’s courted ‘em both — they’re both up to the eyes in love with him —
BRENTNALL: Not Annie. On the quiet, she’s rather gone on me. I showed George up in his true light to her.
GRAINGER: Rotter — rotter!
BRENTNALL: And I stepped into the limelight, and the trick was done.
JACK: You’re a devil, Billy. — But look here, George, our Sally —
GRAINGER: Yes —
JACK: She’s — she’s gone a long way —
BRENTNALL (quietly): How do you mean, Jack?
JACK: Well, she’s given up Charlie Greenhalgh —
BRENTNALL: Not quite. And you know, Jack, she really loves Charlie, at the bottom. There’s something fascinating about George.
GRAINGER: Damn your eyes, shut up, Billy.
BRENTNALL: There’s something fascinating about George. He can’t help it. The women melt like wax before him. They’re all over him. It’s not his beauty, it’s his manliness. He can’t help it.
GRAINGER: I s’ll smash you, Billy Brentnall, if you don’t shut up.
JACK: Yis, there’s something in it, George.
BRENTNALL: There is, Jack. Well, he can’t help himself, so you’ve got to help him. It’s no good hitting him when he’s down.
JACK: I’m not hitting him.
BRENTNALL: And what you’ve got to do, you’ve got to get Charlie Greenhalgh and your Sally together again.
JACK: Me! — It’s nowt to do with me.
BRENTNALL: Yes, it has. Charlie’s not been up to your place lately, has he?
JACK: No.
BRENTNALL: And do you know why?
JACK: Yis.
BRENTNALL: It’s not so much because of George. Have you heard he’s fifteen quid out with the football club.
JACK: I’ve heard a whisper.
BRENTNALL: Well, you help him, Jack, for Sally’s sake. She loves him, Jack, she does. And if she married him quick, she’ll pull him through, for she seems to have a business head on her, and a farming head.
JACK: She has that.
BRENTNALL: Well, you’ll do what you can for poor old Charlie, won’t you?
JACK: I will, Billy. And what time are you going?
BRENTNALL: 2.50 train.
JACK: Well — me and you’s been good pals, George. I must say I’d ha’ done anything for you —
GRAINGER: I know you would, Jack.
JACK: Yis, an’ I would — an’ I would.
BRENTNALL: I’m going up to Blythe Hall against Ashbourne for a day or two, Jack. Shall you come up for tennis?
JACK: I hardly think so — we s’ll be busy just now.
BRENTNALL: Sunday afternoon — yes you will.
JACK: Good-bye, Billy.
BRENTNALL: Au revoir, Jack.
JACK: Well — good-bye, George — lad. We’ve not done amiss while you’ve been here. I s’ll miss thee.
GRAINGER: You’ve been alright to me, Jack.
JACK: Yis — I try to do what I can for folks.
Exit JACK.
BRENTNALL: The atmosphere clears, George.
GRAINGER: Oh damn you, shut up.
BRENTNALL: “Oh, what a sin is base ingratitude!”
GRAINGER: What did you tell Annie about me?
BRENTNALL: I said you were quite manly, and couldn’t help yourself; all the virtues of good nature and so on, but a bit of a libidinous goat.
GRAINGER: Thank you — very nice of you.
BRENTNALL: Add to this that you won’t face a situation, but always funk it, and you understand why Annie suddenly transferred her affections to me. For I showed myself, by contrast, a paragon of all virtues.
GRAINGER: You would.
BRENTNALL: I did.
GRAINGER: I shan’t go to London to your rooms.
BRENTNALL: Now George, my dear chap — —
GRAINGER: I shall not, Billy.
BRENTNALL: Then where will you go?
GRAINGER: Hell!
BRENTNALL: My dear, dear fellow, you’ve neither the cash nor the ability.
GRAINGER: Well, you’re a —
BRENTNALL: Shall we get up?
GRAINGER: I will, whether you will or not. (Sits on the side of the bed whistling “On the Banks of Allan Water”. Footsteps on the stairs — enter GRAINGER’S wife, ETHEL — rather thin, with a light costume.)
ETHEL: George! (She goes forward and kisses him, not noticing BRENTNALL.) George! (Sinks her head on his shoulder.) George!
GRAINGER: Ethel — well I’m blessed! (Kisses her.)
ETHEL (drawing away): I had to come.
GRAINGER: Yes.
ETHEL: Are you angry?
GRAINGER: Me angry! What should I be angry for?
ETHEL: I thought you might be.
GRAINGER: What made you come?
ETHEL: I heard you were going away — and your letters seemed so constrained. Are you — ?
GRAINGER: What?
ETHEL: Going away?
GRAINGER: I s’ll have to — this job’s done.
ETHEL: You never told me.
GRAINGER: What was the good?
ETHEL: Where are you going?
GRAINGER: Dunno — I don’t know in the least.
ETHEL: Oh George, you must come home. Mother says you must.
GRAINGER: Hm!
ETHEL: Won’t you?
GRAINGER: I’d rather not.
ETHEL: What will you do, then?
GRAINGER: I may — I shall probably get a job in London.
ETHEL: Oh George, don’t, don’t go to London.
GRAINGER: What else can I do?
ETHEL: Come home to Mother with me.
GRAINGER: I’ll be damned if I will.
ETHEL: No, you never will do anything I ask you.
GRAINGER: I shan’t do that.
ETHEL: Don’t you want to be with me?
GRAINGER: If I want ever so badly, I can’t, with no money.
ETHEL: Then how are you going to live alone, with no money?
GRAINGER: I can manage for myself.
ETHEL: I know what you want, you want to run away. It is mean, mean of you.
GRAINGER: What’s the good of my coming to your place, there, where they kicked me out?
ETHEL: And what if you’ve nowhere else to go? And what are you going to do in London?
GRAINGER: Look for a job.
ETHEL: And what when you’ve got one?
GRAINGER: Save up to get some things together.
ETHEL: How much have you saved here?
GRAINGER: Not a fat lot — but I have saved.
ETHEL: How much?
GRAINGER: Some — at any rate.
ETHEL: Have you been miserable? I know you like plenty of life. Has it made you miserable to be tied up?
GRAINGER: Not miserable — but it’s been a bit of a devil.
ETHEL: We ought to live together.
GRAINGER: On what?
ETHEL: On what we can get.
GRAINGER: No, thank you.
ETHEL: We might as well not be married. I believe you hate me for having married you. Do you — do you?
GRAINGER: Now Ethel, drop it. Don’t get excited. You know I don’t feel anything of the sort.
ETHEL (weeping): But you don’t love me.
GRAINGER (tenderly): Why, I do, Ethel, I do.
ETHEL: I love you, George, I love you.
GRAINGER: Poor old Ethel — and I love you. And whoever says I don’t, is a liar.
ETHEL: You’ve been true to me, George?
GRAINGER: What do you mean?
ETHEL: Have you been true to me?
BRENTNALL: No, he hasn’t.
GRAINGER (fiercely): Now Billy!
BRENTNALL: I am your husband’s old friend, Brentnall, and your friend, Mrs Grainger. (Gets out of bed, shakes hands with ETHEL.)
ETHEL: I didn’t know you were there.
BRENTNALL: Never mind. (Puts on a dressing-gown.)
ETHEL: Do you say George hasn’t been true to me?
BRENTNALL: I do. Do you really love him?
ETHEL: He is my husband.
BRENTNALL: You do love him, I can see. Then, look here, keep him. You can do it, I should think. Keep him. And you, George, be decent.
GRAINGER: Be decent yourself.
BRENTNALL: I am. (Lights a cigarette.) You don’t mind if I smoke?
ETHEL: No. George, oh George! It’s not true what he says, is it?
GRAINGER: No!
ETHEL (weeping): I couldn’t bear it. (Embracing him.) I couldn’t bear it.
BRENTNALL (aside): That’s the ticket.
GRAINGER: Never mind, little girl — never mind.
ETHEL: You won’t leave me again?
BRENTNALL (aside): Good shot!
GRAINGER: What can I do?
ETHEL: I’ve got seventy pounds, George, I’ve got seventy pounds.
GRAINGER: I don’t want your money, Ethel.
ETHEL: You don’t mind making a fool of me, and neglecting me, but you won’t have my money.
GRAINGER: Now Ethel —
ETHEL (flashing): Isn’t it so?
GRAINGER: No, Ethel.
ETHEL: Then we’ll live together on seventy pounds, till you get a job?
GRAINGER: But you see —
ETHEL (turning, flashing, to BRENTNALL): Has he been living straight — do they know here he’s married?
BRENTNALL: I’ve told a few of them.
ETHEL (turning slowly to GRAINGER): Now then —
GRAINGER: You can do what the hell you like.
ETHEL: Then I shall live with you, from this minute onwards.
BRENTNALL: Knocked out, George!
GRAINGER: Curse you, Brentnall.
BRENTNALL: You are a rotter, my dear fellow.
ETHEL (weeping): There’s baby crying.
Exit ETHEL, weeping. BRENTNALL smokes a cigarette — GRAINGER fumes.
BRENTNALL (throwing him a dressing-gown): You’d better clothe yourself — you’ll feel stronger.
GRAINGER (getting into the dressing-gown): What d’you reckon you’re up to?
BRENTNALL: Don’t be a fool, George, don’t be a swine. If you’re going to clear out, stand up and say so honourably! Say you’ll not abide by your marriage. You can do that, with decency.
GRAINGER: How the devil can I?
BRENTNALL: Will you?
GRAINGER: No, damn it, how can I? I’m not a —
BRENTNALL: Very well then, you won’t clear out, you won’t renounce your marriage. Very well then, go and live with the girl, and be decent. Have a cigarette! (GRAINGER takes a cigarette.)
GRAINGER: It’s a cursed rotten hole —
BRENTNALL: Then for the Lord’s sake, make it as comfortable as possible, if you’re going to stop in it.
GRAINGER: Hark!
BRENTNALL: Sally!
GRAINGER: It is, begad!
ETHEL appears.
ETHEL: There’s a woman enquiring for you.
GRAINGER: What for — what does she want?
ETHEL: She wants you.
GRAINGER: Hm! Is it Sally? She’s been running after me ever since I’ve been here, bless her.
BRENTNALL: Let’s have her up. (Calling.) Do come upstairs, Miss Magneer. It’s quite decent.
GRAINGER: It’s a bit thick, Billy.
Enter SALLY.
BRENTNALL (to SALLY): Excuse our appearance, won’t you? How do you do? (Shakes hands.)
SALLY: How do you do?
BRENTNALL: Have you been introduced to Mrs Grainger? Mrs Doctor Grainger — Miss Magneer.
SALLY: I’ve been given to understand this is Mrs Doctor Grainger — and that the baby downstairs —
BRENTNALL: Is Master Jimmy Grainger. Quite so.
SALLY: I think it is quite so. It’s happened quite so, but it’s not quite the thing.
BRENTNALL: Don’t let us quarrel, Sally. Don’t be quarrelling with us the last half-hour we shall be here.
SALLY: Perhaps not. But what was he masquerading round as not married for, if he had a wife and a child?
ETHEL: You see, Miss Magneer, the fact that Dr Grainger chose to keep his marriage a secret wouldn’t have hurt you, unless you’d rushed in to be hurt.
SALLY: Yes — meaning to say as I ran after him. (To GRAINGER.) Eh?
GRAINGER: Well — what else can you call it, Sally?
SALLY: And who wanted me to walk down the fields with him, the first time he saw me?
GRAINGER: I must say I think you wanted me quite as much, if not more, than I wanted you, Sally.
SALLY: Oh, did I?
ETHEL: I have no doubt of it.
SALLY: And did every single girl you met want you then, Dr Grainger?
GRAINGER: I never said so nor meant so.
SALLY: The one downstairs, for instance.
GRAINGER: Who d’you mean?
SALLY: Annie Calladine.
GRAINGER: What’s she doing here?
ETHEL: She met me at the station. I left her holding baby.
SALLY: Let her come up, and say her share. No, you daren’t and you know it.
GRAINGER: Daren’t I? I say, Annie — Annie!
ANNIE’S VOICE: Yes!
GRAINGER: Would you mind coming upstairs a minute?
SALLY: Now you s’ll hear her side, as well.
Enter ANNIE.
BRENTNALL: You will excuse us — we were not expecting callers.
ANNIE: How do you do?
GRAINGER: Annie, Sally wants you to say everything you can against me, in Ethel’s hearing.
ANNIE: I don’t wish to say everything I can against you, Dr Grainger. But I do wish to say this, that you are a danger to every unmarried girl, when you go about as you have gone, here. And Mrs Grainger had better look after you very closely, if she means to keep you.
GRAINGER: Thank you, Annie, very nice.
ANNIE: Almost as nice as you have been to me.
GRAINGER: I’m not aware that I’ve done you much damage.
ANNIE: If you haven’t, it’s not your fault.
ETHEL flings herself suddenly on the bed, weeping wildly.
SALLY: I’m thankful I’m not his wife.
ANNIE: And I am more than thankful.
BRENTNALL: Don’t cry, Mrs Grainger. George is alright, really.
ANNIE (fiercely): He is not, Mr Brentnall.
SALLY: Neither is he.
BRENTNALL: Nay, don’t cry, Mrs Grainger.
ELSA SMITH’S VOICE, calling in a jolly singsong: “Knabe, Knabe, wo bist du?”
BRENTNALL: Gott sei dank, du bist gekommen. Komm hinauf.
ELSA SMITH’S VOICE: Ja! (Runs upstairs — enter, chattering in German.) Oh!
BRENTNALL (shaking hands): Frightful muddle! Miss Annie Calladine — Mrs Grainger’s awfully cut up because George has been flirting round.
ELSA: With you, Miss Magneer — and Miss Calladine?
SALLY: Not to mention the rest.
ELSA: Oh — oh! I’m sorry. But don’t cry, Mrs Grainger, please. He’s not a villain if he makes love to the other girls, surely. Perhaps it’s not nice. But it was under trying circumstances.
BRENTNALL: That’s what I say.
ELSA: Yes, yes. You’re just as bad yourself. I know you.
BRENTNALL: Nay Elsa, I’m not the same.
ELSA: Oh, oh — now don’t try to duck your head in the whitewash pail with me, no. I won’t have it. Don’t cry, Mrs Grainger, don’t cry. He loves you, I’m sure he does, even if he makes love to the others. (To GRAINGER.) Don’t you? (No reply.) Now you are sulking just like a great baby. And then that’s your little baby downstairs? Ah, the dear! (Sobbing from ETHEL.) Never mind, never mind, cry out your cry, then let me talk to you.
BRENTNALL: Come by motor-car?
ELSA: Yes, Will Hobson drove me.
BRENTNALL: Ha!
ELSA: I like him, so you needn’t say “Ha!”
BRENTNALL: Ha!
ELSA (laughing — putting her hand on his shoulder): Not had breakfast, and smoking, and talking to ladies. Aren’t you ashamed, sir?
BRENTNALL: I’ve nothing to be ashamed of.
ELSA (laughing): No, no; hear him. (Kisses him.) You are a dear, but a dreadful liar.
BRENTNALL: Nay, I’ll be damned — I beg your pardon.
ELSA: No, you never use bad language, do you?
BRENTNALL: Not in the presence of ladies.
ELSA: Well, now listen, I prefer to have you as you are with men. If you swear when you are with men, I prefer you to swear when you are with me. Will you promise me you will?
BRENTNALL: It wouldn’t be a hard promise to keep.
ELSA: Promise me you won’t have one philosophy when you are with men, in your smoke-room, and another when you are with me, in the drawing-room. Promise me you will be faithful to your philosophy that you have with other men, even before me, always.
BRENTNALL: Ha! Not so easy.
ELSA: Promise me. I want the real you, not your fiction.
BRENTNALL: I promise to do my best.
ELSA: Yes, and I trust you, you are so decent.
BRENTNALL: Nay, Elsa —
ELSA: Yes you are. Oh I see your faults, I do. But you are decent. (To ETHEL, who has stopped crying, but who still lies on the bed.) Don’t be too cross with Dr Grainger, will you, Mrs Grainger? It’s not very dreadful. Perhaps Miss Magneer loved him a little —
SALLY: That I never did —
ELSA (laughing): Yes, you did. And (to ANNIE) you were inclined to love him?
ANNIE: That is the worst part of it.
ELSA: Well, I, who am a woman, when I see other women who are sweet or handsome or charming, I look at them and think: “Well, how can a man help loving them, to some extent? Even if he loves me, if I am not there, how can he help loving them?”
ANNIE: But not a married man.
ELSA: I think a man ought to be fair. He ought to offer his love for just what it is — the love of a man married to another woman — and so on. And, if there is any strain, he ought to tell his wife — ”I love this other woman.”
SALLY: It’s worse than Mormons.
BRENTNALL: But better than subterfuge, bestiality, or starvation and sterility.
ELSA: Yes, yes. If only men were decent enough.
BRENTNALL: And women.
ELSA: Yes. Don’t fret, Mrs Grainger. By loving these two women, Dr Grainger has not lost any of his love for you. I would stay with him.
SALLY: He certainly never loved me — except for what he could get.
ELSA: Ha-ha! (Very quaint and very earnest.) That is rather dreadful. But yes, he must have loved you — something in you.
SALLY: It was something.
ELSA: Yes, I see what you mean — but I don’t think you’re quite right. No, it’s not quite so brutal.
BRENTNALL: Shall I walk across to you after lunch?
ELSA: Yes, do that.
ANNIE: I think I will go. Good-bye, Dr Grainger. (Shakes hands.) Good-bye, Sally. Good-bye, Mr Brentnall.
BRENTNALL: Good-bye, Annie. Remember what I told you, and decide for the best. Don’t be afraid. (Kisses her.)
ELSA: Yes. I think, with a little love, we can help each other so much.
ANNIE (to ELSA): Good-bye. (Crossing and putting her arms round ETHEL.) He isn’t bad, dear. You must bring out the best in him. The baby is a dear. And you’ll write to me.
Exit ANNIE.
SALLY: Well, good-bye all. And if I were your wife, Dr Grainger, I’d keep the bit between your teeth.
ELSA: No, no. No one should be driven like a horse between the shafts. Each should live his own life; you are there to help your husband, not to drive him.
SALLY: And to watch he doesn’t help himself too often. Well, goodbye. Shall we be seeing you again, Mr Brentnall?
BRENTNALL: Next week.
SALLY: Right — do come. Good-bye.
Exit SALLY.
ELSA (crossing to ETHEL): Good-bye. Don’t make sorrow and trouble in the world; try to make happiness. I think Satan is in hard judgment, even more than is sin. Try to exonerate.
ETHEL: It’s such a shock.
ELSA (kissing her): Ah yes, it is cruel. But don’t let your own suffering blind you, try not to. Good-bye. (Kisses her.) Good-bye, Dr Grainger. (Shakes hands.)
BRENTNALL: I will see you downstairs — by the way, Grainger and Mrs Grainger are going to stay in my rooms.
ELSA: How perfectly delightful! Then I shall see you in London. How lovely! Good-bye.
BRENTNALL: I suppose I’m respectable enough to see you downstairs.
Exeunt ELSA and BRENTNALL. GRAINGER and his wife sit silent a while. They are afraid of each other.
GRAINGER: Will you go to London to Billy’s rooms?
ETHEL: Does he want us to?
GRAINGER: I suppose so.
Silence.
GRAINGER: Will you?
ETHEL: Do you want me to?
GRAINGER: You please yourself. I’m not coming to Wolverhampton.
ETHEL (trying not to cry): Well, we’ll go to London.
GRAINGER: It’s a damned mess.
ETHEL (crying): You’d better do just as you like, then, and I’ll go home.
GRAINGER: I didn’t mean that.
ETHEL (crying): I’ll go home.
GRAINGER: Don’t begin again, Ethel.
ETHEL: You hate the thought of being married to me. So you can be free of me.
GRAINGER: And what about the baby? Don’t talk rot, Ethel. (Puts his arm round her.)
ETHEL: You don’t care for that, either.
GRAINGER: Don’t I — you don’t know. They all make me look as black as I can —
ETHEL: Well, I don’t know.
GRAINGER: Yes they do — and they always have done. I never have had anybody to stick up for me. (Weeps a few tears.) I’ve had a rotten time, a rotten time.
ETHEL: And so have I.
GRAINGER: You don’t know what it is to be a man.
ETHEL: I know what it is to be your wife.
GRAINGER: Are you going to sling it in my teeth for ever?
ETHEL: No, I’m not. But what did you marry me for? (Cries.)
GRAINGER (embracing her): You’re the only girl I could have married, Ethel. I’ve been a rotter to you, I have.
ETHEL: Never mind, we shall get on together, we shall. Mind, somebody is coming.
A knock — enter MRS PLUM with the baby.
MRS PLUM: He wants you, the precious little lad, he does. Oh Dr Grainger, let me see you hold him! (Gives the baby to GRAINGER.)
Enter BRENTNALL.
BRENTNALL: That’s the way, George.
GRAINGER: Shut up, fool.
CURTAIN