COMTESSE. No, Charles, you are not. You no longer care. Fickle one! And it is only thirty years.
[He sinks into a chair beside her.]
VENABLES. Those heavenly evenings, Comtesse, on the Bosphorus.
COMTESSE. I refuse to talk of them. I hate you.
[But she drops the book, and MAGGIE fades from the room. It is not a very clever departure, and the old diplomatist smiles. Then he sighs a beautiful sigh, for he does all things beautifully.]
VENABLES. It is moonlight, Comtesse, on the Golden Horn.
COMTESSE. Who are those two young things in a caique?
VENABLES. Is he the brave Leander, Comtesse, and is she Hero of the Lamp?
COMTESSE. No, she is the foolish wife of the French Amba.s.sador, and he is a good-for-nothing British attache trying to get her husband"s secrets out of her.
VENABLES. Is it possible! They part at a certain garden gate.
COMTESSE. Oh, Charles, Charles!
VENABLES. But you promised to come back; I waited there till dawn.
Blanche, if you HAD come back--
COMTESSE. How is Mrs. Venables?
VENABLES. She is rather poorly. I think it"s gout.
COMTESSE. And you?
VENABLES. I creak a little in the mornings.
COMTESSE. So do I. There is such a good man at Wiesbaden.
VENABLES. The Homburg fellow is better. The way he patched me up last summer--Oh, Lord, Lord!
COMTESSE. Yes, Charles, the game is up; we are two old fogies. [They groan in unison; then she raps him sharply on the knuckles.] Tell me, sir, what are you doing here?
VENABLES. Merely a friendly call.
COMTESSE. I do not believe it.
VENABLES. The same woman; the old delightful candour.
COMTESSE. The same man; the old fibs. [She sees that the door is asking a question.] Yes, come, Mrs. Shand, I have had quite enough of him; I warn you he is here for some crafty purpose.
MAGGIE [drawing back timidly]. Surely not?
VENABLES. Really, Comtesse, you make conversation difficult. To show that my intentions are innocent, Mrs. Shand, I propose that you choose the subject.
MAGGIE [relieved]. There, Comtesse.
VENABLES. I hope your husband is well?
MAGGIE. Yes, thank you. [With a happy thought] I decide that we talk about him.
VENABLES. If you wish it.
COMTESSE. Be careful; HE has chosen the subject.
MAGGIE. _I_ chose it, didn"t I?
VENABLES. You know you did.
MAGGIE [appealingly]. You admire John?
VENABLES. Very much. But he puzzles me a little. You Scots, Mrs. Shand, are such a mixture of the practical and the emotional that you escape out of an Englishman"s hand like a trout.
MAGGIE [open-eyed]. Do we?
VENABLES. Well, not you, but your husband. I have known few men make a worse beginning in the House. He had the most atrocious bow-wow public-park manner---
COMTESSE. I remember that manner!
MAGGIE. No, he hadn"t.
VENABLES [soothingly]. At first. But by his second session he had shed all that, and he is now a pleasure to listen to. By the way, Comtesse, have you found any dark intention in that?
COMTESSE. You wanted to know whether he talks over these matter with his wife; and she has told you that he does not.
MAGGIE [indignantly]. I haven"t said a word about it, have I?
VENABLES. Not a word. Then, again, I admire him for his impromptu speeches.
MAGGIE. What is impromptu?
VENABLES. Unprepared. They have contained some grave blunders not so much of judgment as of taste---
MAGGIE [hotly]. _I_ don"t think so.
VENABLES. Pardon me. But he has righted himself subsequently in the neatest way. I have always found that the man whose second thoughts are good is worth watching. Well, Comtesse, I see you have something to say.
COMTESSE. You are wondering whether she can tell you who gives him his second thoughts.
MAGGIE. Gives them to John? I would like to see anybody try to give thoughts to John.
VENABLES. Quite so.
COMTESSE. Is there anything more that has roused your admiration Charles?