Oh, quite. I like being here.
Miss Woodward.
But I"m sure you find it difficult getting down to one"s level. I often think that the very wise must be very lonely.
Gunning.
[Rising.] What an extremely unpleasant remark!
Miss Woodward.
I"m sorry. [She sighs.] We don"t seem to get on very well, do we?
Gunning.
[With sincerity and coming close to her.] I"d like to get on well with you.
[Pause. They look in each other"s faces, both at table.
Gunning.
Will you give me a rose?
Miss Woodward.
No, Mr. Gunning.
Parbury.
[Outside.] Are you there, George?
[Miss Woodward gets letters from table.
Gunning.
Yes.
Parbury.
[Outside, to Evans.] Serve breakfast.
Enter Parbury, L.
Good-morning. I hope I haven"t kept you waiting. Oh, you are here, Miss Woodward. Good-morning. [Looks at the table.] And you have managed to find us some roses. How very kind of you! [Miss Woodward gives him letters. He runs them over.] No, no, no, no! Will you kindly see what they"re all about? [She is about to go.] Oh, not now-after breakfast will do.
Miss Woodward.
I have breakfasted, thank you.
Parbury.
Really! I suppose I"m horribly late. [Looks at his watch. Then, noticing the roses she carries in her hand.] How very beautiful they are! Look, George! [She selects one and hands it to him.] For me? Thank you. [He fastens it in his b.u.t.tonhole.]
[Exit Miss Woodward, L.
[To Gunning.] Lovely, isn"t it?
Gunning.
[Gruffly.] Yes, it"s all right.
Parbury.
What"s the matter? Cross?
Gunning.
Not at all. But, really, you married men are very tiresome.
Parbury.
Oh, I see-wanted a rose yourself. Shall I call Miss Woodward back and ask for you?
Gunning.
Don"t trouble. I"ve done that myself.
Parbury.
You have? Ha, ha! [Begins to laugh, but stops suddenly.] Oh! [Holding his head.] Dear, dear, what a head I have!
Gunning.
You haven"t asked after my head.
Parbury.
[Sits at table.] Your pardon. How is it?
Gunning.
[Sits at table.] I"d like to sell it this morning. Do you know, Clement, I"m not quite certain about that whisky of yours.
Parbury.
I am. It"s fifteen years old.
Enter Evans, L., with, breakfast-tray.
But you always had a way of mixing your drinks over-night and growling in the morning.
Gunning.
[Drawing up his chair.] Put it at that, if you like. I do know that I always had a way of disliking you particularly in the morning. I regret I don"t appear to have grown out of it.
Parbury.
I"m so glad. I hate being too popular. [Evans offers bacon to Mr. Parbury. He pushes the dish away.] Take it away. Have some bacon, George?
[Takes a piece of toast, looks at it, then puts it down.
Gunning.
Thank you.
[Helps himself to bacon.
[Exit Evans, L., with bacon dish.
Parbury.
I must say I think your display of temper is in the worst possible taste under the circ.u.mstances.
Gunning.
[b.u.t.tering toast.] What do you mean by "under the circ.u.mstances"?
Parbury.
You know what I mean. How much sleep do you think I"ve had?
Gunning.
I"m sure I don"t know. What concerns me is that you detained me in this outlandish place-what county is it?-till past three o"clock, and then insisted, with alcoholic tears in your eyes, on my returning to breakfast.
Parbury.
Tea or coffee?
Gunning.
Tea-no; coffee-no, neither.
Parbury.
Have some hot milk?
[Offers him the jug.
Gunning.
Ugh! Don"t.
[Takes an egg. Sh.e.l.ls it.
Parbury.
[Lifts the lid of the tea-pot, then of the coffee-pot, and closes them gently with a look of distaste.] No, not this morning. Still, we must drink something. What shall it be?
Gunning.
I am your guest.
Parbury.
Perhaps we had better split a bottle.
Gunning.
Please be frank. Do you mean Ba.s.s or champagne?
Parbury.
Champagne, of course. [He calls loudly.] Evans! Evans!
Evans.
[Outside.] Yes, sir.
Enter Evans, L.
Parbury.
Bring a bottle of champagne.
Evans.
[Starting ever so slightly.] Cham-- Parbury.
[Irritably.] Champagne and gla.s.ses.
Evans.
[Recovering his composure.] Yes, sir.
[Exit Evans, L., wearing a discreet smile.
Parbury.