 Act 2 of The Mind the Paint Girl by Arthur Wing Panaro. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The scene is an artistically decorated refreshment saloon, or foyer, on the first circle floor of a theater. The wall facing the spectator is a panel partly in glass, and through the glazed panels the corridor behind the circle and the doors admitting to the circle are seen. The right hand wall is paneled in a similar way, showing the landing at the top of the principal staircase and an entrance to the corridor. Some music stands and stools are on the landing, arranged for a small orchestra. In the right hand wall there is a double swing door giving on to the landing, and in the wall at the back opening on to and from the corridor there is a single swing door on the left and another on the right. The left hand door is fastened back into the saloon by a hook. Between the two doors in the back wall runs the refreshment counter. In one of the further corners of the saloon there is a plaster statue representing the muse of comedy. In the opposite corner a companion figure of dancing. In the wall on the left, the grate hidden by flowers, is a fireplace with a fender stool before it, and on either side of the fireplace there is a capacious and richly upholstered armchair. A setee of like design stands against the wall on the right between the double door and the spectator. The counter is decked out as a sideboard, and at equal distances from each other there are four round tables laid for a separate party of 26 persons. There are eight chairs at one table and six at each of the others. The chairs being of the sort usually supplied by ball caters. The saloon and the landing without are brilliantly lighted. The corridor less brightly. Luigi and four waiters, one of whom has a curly head and a fair beard ending in two flamboyant points, are putting the finishing touches on the lane of the tables, while Morris Cooling, a person of imposing presence, displaying a vast expanse of shirt front, is engaged in placing upon each of the serviettes a card bearing the name of a guest. Cooling referring to a plan of the tables which he has in his hand. Miss Connoffy, Miss Connoffy, Miss Connoffy, where's Miss Connoffy? Ah, here you are, my dear. Moving to Miss Connoffy's chair and putting a card upon her serviette. Next to old Arthur. The four waiters obeying a direction and dumb show from Luigi go out at the door on the left. Luigi a little dark active mad, viewing the tables with satisfaction. Tables look nice, Mr. Cooling. Cooling absorbed. Not bad, not bad, not bad. Luigi follows the waiters. Miss Kato. Moving to another table and laying a card upon a serviette. Mr. Gabriel. Roper bustles in through the double door in high feather. Hello. Cutting a caper. Merry Christmas and a happy New Year and how are you tomorrow? Cooling deep in his plan of the tables. Hello, et l'al. Roper surveying the tables. Splendid. Going from one table to another. Seating him, eh? Mr. Pogg, Mr. Pogg, Mr. Pogg. Placing another card. Albert. Which do you make your principal table? There it is, you're at it. Ah, yes. Exemining the cards. Miss Lily Paradelle. His jaw falling. Why you've gone and put the Baron on her right. Cooling unconsciously. Well, what's the objection? Where's Farkham? Where's Lord Farkham? On the other side, with Dali Stidolf and Enid. Rats. What do you mean by rats? Advancing to the principal table. Nettled. Look here, l'al. My dear fellow, Miss Paradelle is the heroine of the party. The seat next to her is the seat of honour. That's why I put the Baron there, with things as they are between England and Germany. Germany doesn't like it, she must lump it. Lord Farkham's the eldest son of an earl. You can't get over that. Cooling picking up Farncombe's card. Oh, have it your own way. Roper picking up von Rittemeyer's card. Besides, the Baron's sweet on Enid just now, I'm sure he'd prefer. They exchanged the cards and rearranged them. Thanks, old man. Sorry I was shirty. Cooling laying down his plan and cards and producing a letter from his breast pocket. By the by the fair lady, the heroine of the party, as you call her, is in a pretty tantrum over the whole business. Tantrum? Cooling unfolding the letter. Had this rumour ten minutes ago, listen to this. Reading. My dressing room, eleven, fifteen, eighty degrees, with the windows open. In an injured tone. Ha! So I should think. Roper concerned. What's a miss? Cooling reading. More you pig. Roper whistled. More you pig, I should feel deeply indebted to you if you would kindly inform me why the devil you went out of your way to deceive me last night. You led me to suppose, and so did that lying worm lull Roper. Looking at Roper. You. Oh, Lord. That lying worm lull Roper. Roper, testily. All right, all right. You both led me to suppose that this rotten banquet was to be a family gathering of the ladies and gentlemen of the Pandora Theatre. And no outsiders asked. Now I find that only three or four of the men of the company are invited. And I hear from Nita Trevena, who has got it from young Kennedy that several of the boys are to be late on for the occasion. The result is you have made me tell a regular whopper to a particular friend of mine with regard to this affair. Roper passing his hand over his brow. Nicco Jays. Which I will never forgive you for, more as schooling, neither you nor Lyle Roper. As true as I am alive I have a jolly good mind not to show, but to put on my old rags and go straight home. You are too cad, so take it out of that, and believe me, always yours affectionately little. Roper walking about. Well, I'm blessed. Cooling returning the letter to his pocket. Ha! Tasty document. Lying worm and a cad, and from Miss Libby Margaret up, John. Done anything about it? No, waited for you. Going on with his arrangements at the table. You're responsible. What I did last night was simply to oblige a pal. Roper irresolutely. I'd better run round to her and try to smooth her down, hadn't I? Perhaps you had. Placing a card. Mr. Stuart Hennege. To Roper. Why, you wanted to mislead the girl, I can't understand. Dammit, you agreed that that silly, brute Jays would be a wet blanket. You blow hot and cold, you do. There you go. More filthy temper. If ever I assist in getting up another party. As he reaches the door on the left, he encounters Carthus Smythe, who is entering at that moment, and puts on his humorous manner. Hello, here we are again. All changed for Oxford Circus. Smythe a bulky, sleepy-looking man, with grey hair, a darker mustache and beard, and a heavy rolling gait. Hello! I'm just going to have a word with little Peridell. He disappears as Smythe advances. Coolean approaching Smythe. How are you tonight, chief? Smythe a silk hat on the back of his hand, and overcoat on his arm, regarding the preparations with disgust. Heh! He's a muck and a muddle. Don't worry, we'll clear it away in no time. Shall I tell you who are coming? No, I shall know soon enough. What was the house to-night? Coolean producing a long slip of paper and handing it to Smythe. Big! Smythe scans the paper through half-closed lids, and gives a growl of contentment. Ah! And the weather did against us. Smythe screwing up the paper and cramming it into his waistcoat pocket. There's no bad weather for a good play. Looking at his hands. I'll go and have a wash and a brush-up. Luigi returns, entering at the door on the left, and goes behind the counter. The waiters follow him, carrying some melons lying upon ice in plated dishes. They deposit the dishes upon the counter, and Luigi proceeds to cut the melon into slices. Coolean resumes at the table on the left, the placing of the cards. As Smythe is moving towards the right-hand door at the back, Stuart Hinnage and Gerald Grimwood, two exquisitely dressed youths with blank faces, enter from the landing. Smythe shakes hands with them. Ah! Mr. Hennage! Mr. Grimwood! Hinnage and Grimwood murmure some polite expressions. Excuse me! I'm just going to wash my hands. The castor enters also at the double door, as Smythe shakes hands with him. Hinnage and Grimwood drift over to Coolean. Who hails them warmly? I do, Sam. Back in a moment, just going to wash my hands. The castor detains him. I say, Carlton. Eh? I've been in front again to-night. Magnificent! Marvelous! Smythe residedly. Oh, it'll do. I shall get a couple of years out of it. There's just one little improvement I'd like to see, if I may suggest it. What's that? The castor linking his arms in Smythe. Your sir, you won't consider me presumptuous? Of course not. Very kind of you. The castor is Smythe's ear. If you could give Gapth a myth, Kate, oh, a tiny bit more to do in the second act. Smythe nodding. Ah, yes, yes. She's a little lump-o-talent, that gal. If you only realized it, a perfect little lump-o-talent. Smythe trying to escape. Eh, I'll think it over. Earlier an extra thong. That all it need be an extra thong. Oh, it would be such an improvement. Von Rittenmeyer enters at the double door. The waiters now go to the tables and lay a plate with a slice of melon upon each cover. Ah, here's the Baron. We've been sitting together to-night, I and the Baron. Ringing Smythe's hand. Thanks. Joining Cooleyne and the others on the left, Smythe greets Von Rittenmeyer. Hello, Morrith. Shaking hands with Hennage and Grimwood. Well, boys. Smythe's shaking hands with Von Rittenmeyer. Glad to see you, Baron. So good of you to half me. Excuse me, I'm just going to wash my hands. Von Rittenmeyer detaining him. Pardon me, one moment. Eh? Lady, I take the liberty of indulging in a little criticism on your excellent play. Certainly. Von Rittenmeyer drawings Smythe away from the tables. Come here. His mouth close to Smythe's ear. The second act. Second act? What's the matter with it? The part where the charming Miss Baradah is changing a costume. Yes. That is where the piece requires lifting. With a gesture. Lifting. Lifting. Mr. Darvish, Mr. Barg, extremely clever. Slipping his arms through Smythe's. But if you could see your way clear to give Enid, Miss Mongrief, on Norah's dance. The Smythe nodding. Ah, hmm, hmm. It would remove the solitary imperfection. Eh, I don't think it over. Releasing himself. I'm just going to wash my hands. We'll talk about it later. Schonstendank. Going to the man on the left. Ah, Mr. Gulling, my dear Stood, my dear Jerry. As Smythe is again making for the door on the left, Mrs. Stidolf enters from the landing, with Colonel Stidolf. Smythe to Mrs. Stidolf. Ah, Dolly, how are you, my dear? Mrs. Stidolf, a mature but still beautiful woman, gorgeously dressed in wearing showy jewels with a lofty air. How are you, Carlton? Smythe to Stidolf. How do you do, Arthur? Delighted to see you. Lucky I'm able to come to you tonight. It's so difficult to catch me in the season. Been in front? Yes. Oh, yes. What? Don't you like it? Oh, I don't say I dislike it. Shrugging her shoulders. But one can't forget what one used to do here in the old days. Stidolf, an elderly distinguished looking man, with a meek voice and a courteous, but rather nervous manner. I've had a most enjoyable evening gone. So bright, so very bright. Mrs. Stidolf to Stidolf, sneeringly. Oh, anything pleases you. You'd laugh at Punch and Judy. I'm just running away to wash my hands. Looking towards the man on the left. You know Von Ritten, may I? Know him? Why, he was about in my time. Crossing to Von Rittenmire, followed by Stidolf. Carl. My dear lady. Kissing her hand perfunctorily. What bliss. Shaking hands with Stidolf. Cornel. Mrs. Stidolf, shaking hands with Dicastro. How are you, Sam? Ah, dolly. Hello, Arthur. Cooling presenting hennaging Grimwood to the Stidolfs. Mr. Stuart Hennage, Mr. Gerald Grimwood. As the Stidolfs leave Smythe, Herbert Fulkerson enters from the landing with Farncombe. In dumb show, Smythe and Fulkerson greet each other, and then Fulkerson introduces Farncombe. Smythe is shaking hands with Farncombe. Glad to make your acquaintance. Glad to make yours, Mr. Smythe, and in such circumstances. Fulkerson, a white-haired young man with red eyes, a dissipated appearance. That's by Mrs. Stidolf. By Jove, if it is a dolly answer. Hurrying to Mrs. Stidolf. What, cheer dolly? Mrs. Stidolf, coldly. How do you do, Mr. Fulkerson? Fulkerson is slightly abashed. Oh, I... I'm pretty meddling. Thanks. Help you are the same. Notting to Stidolf. Give me, Arthur. Vincent Bland has sauntered in at the door on the left, and now joins the group surrounding the Stidolfs. Bland nodding to Hennige and Grimwood. Hello, Stuart. Hello, Jerry. Coming to the Stidolfs. Dolly. Colonel. Smythe to Farncombe. I'll be back in a minute or two. I'm just going to wash my hands. Fulkerson calling to Farncombe. Hi, Hennie! Farncombe crosses to Fulkerson, and is presented by him to the Stidolfs. Gabrielle Cato enters at the right-hand door at the back, meeting Smythe as he is going out. The waiters have finished setting the plates and melon upon the tables, and now withdraw, carrying the plated dishes, and preceded by Luigi at the door on the left. Smythe to Gabrielle. Ah, Gabby, my dear. Quite well, huh? Gabrielle, a pretty young woman with a fretful little face, expressive of extreme dissatisfaction with the world, looking at Smythe spiritlessly. This is a treat. Why, you haven't been to see us for ages. Smythe cunningly. I see you all far oftener than you suspect. Do you? That is a sly of you. Smythe leaving her. I'm just going to have a wash and a brush up. Really? Oh, you are full of news. He departs as D'Castro approaches Gabrielle. Hello, Gabth. How are you tonight? Oh, I'm all right, I suppose. Isn't it hot? D'Castro not at ease with her. It is inclined that way. Daphne Dior, Niger Tavenna, Douglas Glenn, and Albert Pogh enter at the door on the left. Nita is a tall handsome girl. Daphne, a plump little fair baby face thing. They are charmingly dressed as are all the ladies of the Pandora Theatre. Glenn and Pogh, the latter a short thick set band, who might reasonably be a low comedian, are two professional-looking gentlemen of the best class. The rivals are warmly hailed by Fulkerson, von Rettenmeyer, Hinnich, and Grimwood, with more reserved by Mrs. Stidolf. Stidolf has seated himself wearily in the armchair on the nearer side of the fireplace, and beyond listening to Bland, who is talking to him, has withdrawn himself from the proceedings. Fulkerson to Farncôme. Here's Daphne Dior and Nita Tavenna. Hello, Daphne. Hello, Nita. How are you, Douglas? Hello, Albert. How do you do, Bertie? How do you do, Von? Von Rettenmeyer, kissing their hands. Dear ladies. Ah, Mr. Glenn, Mr. Bock. How do you do, Stewie? How do you do, Jerry? How do you do, Jerry? How do you do, Dolly? Oh, Dolly. Got you, Dolly. Well, girls. Here, I want to introduce Lord Farncôme, Miss Dior, Miss Tavenna, Lord Farncôme. Douglas, I am the first lady of the Pandora Theatre. Miss Dior, Miss Tavenna, Lord Farncôme. Douglas, Albert, Lord Farncôme. Nita pouncing upon Cooley. I say, Morris. What is it, my dear? Is it true that little Kennedy's met with an accident? Yes. Can't join us. The dwarf. What's happened? Ran his car into a bus just outside the theatre. Oh. Bished himself forward onto his head. His head? Don't be anxious, Nita. There's nothing to hurt there. Poor dwarf. Gabrielle and D'Castro now move over to the others. Hello, gaps. Hello, Sam. Ah, Beltie. Monretta Meyer kissing Gabrielle's hand. Gabrielle. Ah, fun. To Henning and Gribwood. Ah, boys. To Mrs. Diddolf. How are you? The Castro shaking hands. Daphne, Nita, Douglas, Albert. I want to introduce Lord Farncôme. Miss Catoe, Lord Farncôme. A band of musicians have mustered upon the landing, and there is the sound of the tuning of instruments. Cooley hurrying across to the double door. No, no. No music here. Wait for Miss Paradelle. He reaches the double door. Roper enters quickly at the right-hand door, at the back and ceases his arm. Eh? It's all right. She'll be round in a minute. Amiable? Angelic. She's wearing a new dresser. That's taken her mind off it. Her bark's always worse than her bite. I knew it'd blow over. Roper, formidably. Oh, but I have given her such a talking-to. Cooley passes through the double door and instructs the leader of the band while Roper bustles over to the throng on the left. Hello? Imitating a street-news-vendor. Special addition and cricket-piper. Shaking hands all round. Dolly, Nita, Gabs, Daphne, Douglas, Albert. Ah, here you are, Farncôme. A discovery's did all. Hello, Colonel. Results, Piper extra-special. Enid Moncrief, Wilford Tavish, and Sigismund Shirley enter at the right-hand door at the back. Enid is a long, spare-figured girl with the lice-and-walk of a dancer. Tavish and Shirley are tall, clean-shaven men of gentlemen-like appearance. Von Rettenmeyer makes for Enid eagerly and is followed at a more moderate pace by Hennage, Grimwood, and DeCastro, and by Fogerson bringing Farncôme. Miss Moncrief. Kissing Enid's hand with fervour. Your dancing was more surprising tonight than ever. To Tavish and Shirley. Ah-ha, my friends. Enid shaking hands with Hennage, Grimwood, and DeCastro. Well, Stu, how are you, Jerry? Some. I want to introduce Lord Farncôme. Miss Moncrief. Lord Farncôme. Roper hurrying across. Hello, here's Enid. DeCastro shaking hands with Tavish and Shirley. Pith went splendidly this evening, didn't it? Fogerson shaking hands with Tavish and Shirley. I want to introduce Lord Farncôme. Mr. Tavish. Mr. Shirley. Lord Farncôme. Enid coming forward to greet Mrs. Stiddle who advances to her. Dolly dear. Mrs. Stiddle from Bracey and Enid. Enid, darling. Good gracious. You're becoming an absolute skeleton. Indeed. Well, no one can say that of you. It is a pleasure meeting all you girls tonight. Of course, one can't help seeing changes. Ah, it must be a pleasure. That? I'm going to scold dear old Carlton by and by. He never gave me a birthday party when I was with him. No. And you had so many birthdays here, hadn't you? Cooling returns, entering from the landing and after looking at the assembly goes out at the right-hand door at the back. At the same moment, Flo Connathy, Sybil Dermott, Olga Cook and Evangeline Ventress four statuesque beauties with impassive faces enter at the door on the left. Olga is in a dark gown and Evangeline is wearing a rather elaborate headdress. Instantly there is a movement in the direction of the new arrivals on the part of Roper, Hinnich and Grimwood. De Castro and Fokerson follow. Fokerson's still leading foreign comb about within. Mrs. Stiddle turns from Enid, disdainfully and joins Nita and Daphne at the fireplace. Tavish and Shirley also move to the left where they come upon Stiddle and shake hands with him. While von Rettemeyer and Enid, the latter flushed with victory, seek themselves upon the setee on the right. Roper hastening to the beauties. Hello, show your tickets, please. Room inside for four? Shaking hands. How are you, Flo? How are you, Sybil? How are you, Olga? I say, look at Vangie. The four beauties as the men shake hands with them mechanically. How do you do? How do you do? How do you do? Here, I want to introduce Lord van Com, Miss Conifred, Lord van Com, Miss Dermot, Miss Cook, Miss Vangie van Tris, Lord van Com. How do you do? How do you do? How do you do? Cooling hurries back. Miss Paradelle. Opening the door and signaling to the leader of the band. Now. The band strikes up the air of Mind the Paint, as Lily enters at the right-hand door at the back, with Jimmy Birch. Lily is dressed in white and altogether fulfills exteriorly Roper's description of angelic. She carries a large bouquet of lilies and pale roses, with a broad ribbon flowing from it. All the men but van Com, who holds aloof, press round her. Still though frizing and joining them, the ladies follow. The men struggling for her hand. Many happy returns a day. Many happy returns a day. Many happy returns a day. Many happy returns a day. Many happy returns a day. Many happy returns a day. Many happy returns a day. Jimmy battled with the net. Keep away from her. Bertie, you're on her frock. Mind her frock. Mind the paint. Lily holding her bouquet above her head. My roses. Be careful of me, boys. One at a time. Many happy returns of the day. Many happy returns of the day. Many happy returns of the day. Many happy returns of the day. I want to kiss the girls. Girls. The men make way for the ladies to come to Lily. Many happy returns of the day. Many happy returns of the day. Many happy returns of the day. Lily embracing them. Sybil, Nita. Oh, Mrs. Sturdlef. Dainet, Daphne, Gabs, Flo-dear, Olga, Fungi." Paulk suddenly. "'There's the Governor!' Smythe enters at the door on the left. Luigi and the wagers are behind him, the wagers carrying trays on which are sugar-casters, and dishes of powdered ginger. At once there is a movement towards Smythe of everybody except those who have already greeted him, and Lily, who is detained by Roper and others. How are you, Governor? How do you do, Mr. Smythe? How do you do, Mr. Smythe? How do you do, Mr. Smythe? How are you, Carlton? How are you, Carlton? How are you, Carlton? Smythe in the midst of them all. Girls, girls, I'll shake hands with you all in turn, girls. Thoughts you were dead? Yes. Look at Olga. She's deep in mourning. LAUGHS Smythe shaking hands. Don't girls! Don't! You're smothering me. Lily during a momentary lull, finding farmcams standing before her, and raising her eyebrows. You? Giving him her hand carelessly. Oh. It isn't long before we meet again, is it? Smythe huffing and blowing. That's the lot of them. Phew! Where's Lily? Lily here?" The crowd divides to allow him to advance. Seeing Lily, he opens his arms and she goes to him and lays her head upon his breast, patting her shoulders. My dear! Lily half gaily, half tearfully. Ha ha ha! Curlton! God bless you! Well, what about something to eat? Ready, Mr. Smite. Ladies and gentlemen, supper is ready. Ha! Cooling at the principal table. Here you are, chief. Miss Paradelle. Smite to Lily. Come along! There is a general hunt for places in much hubbub and confusion. Cooling, calling to Roper. Now, that's your table. Roper, imitating a shop-walker. Mr. Roper, forward. Mrs. Stidolf, Lord Farncombe. Pointing to another table. Glen, you're there. Here you are, Daphne. Miss Cato wanted. Gabs! Stewie. Baron, Enid. Ah! Cooling to Stidolf. Over there, Colonel. Volcker said and wandering about. Where am I? Where am I? Nita, pushing him aside. Oh, be off. Jimmy. Cooling at his place at the table. Olga, you're here. Mr. Grimwood. Where am I? Next to me. Where is luck? Screwing up her face at him. Ladies mantles on the second floor. Where's Sibble? Sibb! Sibb! The curtain falls, but the music of Mind the Paint continues for a while. Then it ceases, and after a short silence the curtain rises again. The supper tables have disappeared, and the saloon is empty of people. The musicians and their music stands and stools have also gone, and faintly from the distance comes the sound of a waltz. Two satis matching the rest of the furniture now stand at the center of the saloon back to back, one of them facing the counter, the other facing the spectator. Lily's bouquet lies in the nearer of the two satis, and upon the floor there is a fan, a red rose that has fallen from the lady's corsage, and a pocket handkerchief with a powder puff peeping from it. On the counter there are carafes of lemonade, the canters of spirits, and siphons of soda water, a bowl of strawberries and cream, various dishes of cakes, boxes of cigars and cigarettes, a lighted spirit lamp, and other adjuncts of a buffet. Colonel Stidolf wanders in through the double door as the waltz comes to an end. Feeblee and dejectively he goes to the counter, takes a cigarette and is lighting it when Luigi and the wagers enter the door on the left. Two of the wagers are carrying bottles of champagne and wine coolers, another brings a tray on which are champagne glasses and tumblers, and the bearded waiter follows with a large dish of sandwiches. Luigi behind the counter to Stidolf familiarly. – Aren't you dancing, Colonel? – Dancing? Aren't we? – Shaking his hand. – No. Luigi, who speaks cockney English with a slight foreign accent, cut in the wire of a champagne bottle. – Why? You used to be a regular slap-up dancing man when I first knew you. – Stidolf now. – They're moving away. – My dancing days are done. – Done? Oh, I like that. I bet you end sixty. Come now, eh? – What's the time, Luigi? I am going to watch on. – Time, Colonel? – Looking at his watch. – Twenty to three. – No later. – Sitting on the set tee on the right with a sigh. – Oh, dear. One of the waders goes out, in obedience to a direction from Luigi, at the door on the left, as Hennage enters with Enid. Grimwood with Neta, von Rettemire with Mrs. Stidolf at the right-hand door at the back. A wisp of hair has fallen over Hennage's forehead. Grimwood looks somewhat downcast, and von Rettemire is obviously bored by Mrs. Stidolf. Enid to Hennage walking across to the left. – Never been to Ostend. You've never been born, then. I'm counting the hours to my holiday. – Sitting in the chair on the near side of the fireplace. – Hotel de la plage. Why don't you run over while I'm there? – Neta to Grimwood following Enid. – My dear boy, I give you my solemn word, it wasn't you. It was that fool Bertie. Anyhow, it's a rotten old frock. – Showed his small rent in her skirt to Enid Gaely. – Pom, para, rom, pom, pom. – Hennage and Grimwood go to the counter, secure a waiter, and return with him to Enid and Neta. The waiter receives his orders, and presently fetches the ladies glasses of lemonade. Mrs. Stidolf whispering to von Rettemire. – Well, did you ever? Just fancy. – Von Rettemire absolutely looking at Enid. – I beg your pardon. – Fancy those two girls walking into a room before us. – Discovering the fan upon the floor. – Oh, I do believe that's my fan. – Von Rettemire restores the fan to Mrs. Stidolf, as Roper and Gabrielle enter at the door on the left. – Gabrielle to Roper and a low, complaining voice. – It's a shame of you. That's what it is. You went and put Lily Paradelle into rubber, and enabled her to make a bit. She told us so. – Yes, but how long ago? – That's not the point. The point is, it's always Lily Paradelle with you. You never do anything for us other girls. – She sits upon the nearest settee in the center, and she and Roper, he standing by her, continue their conversation. Mrs. Stidolf to Von Rettemire. – No thanks. I'm on a diet. Didn't you notice me at supper? – Moving to the settee on the right. – Let's sit. – To Stidolf. – Oh, get up. – Stidolf rises quickly. – Why aren't you dancing? If you don't dance, go home and put yourself to bed. You might for all the good you're doing here. – Stidolf with a forced, painful laugh. – Ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha. Von Rettemire, as Mrs. Stidolf, seats herself. – Plenty room for you too, Colonel. – No, no. I won't inconvenience you. – He moves away, and Von Rettemire sits beside Mrs. Stidolf. The waiter who has previously gone out now returns at the door on the left with a tray of ices in paper cases. He goes to the counter for a supply of ice-poons, as Farncombe enters with Lily at the right-hand door at the back. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes sparkling. Roper, all his attention, suddenly directed to Lily and Farncombe. – Here's Lil. Lily excitedly sees in Stidolf's hand. – You're not dancing, Colonel Stidolf. – Showing him her program. – Don'ts with me. I'll make one of the others give up a dance for you. – Stidolf going to the counter. – No, no. I'm too old. – Too old for dancing. I shall never be too old for dancing. Coming to the nearest setee in the centre, picking up her bouquet and sitting beside Gabrielle. Roper to Farncombe, who follows Lily. – Hello. Beaming. – Chawley potty, hey, Farncombe? Farncombe, boishly. – Lovely. To Lily. – May I bring you some lemonade and ice? Lily looking up at him. – You may keep on bringing me ice as Chawley music starts again. Farncombe leaves her. – Gabby, wasn't that Walt's delicious? Pock and Sibyl enter at the door on the left. Sibyl seats herself beside Nita on the fender stool, and Pock fetches her some refreshment. Gabrielle to Lily, drearily. – I say, Lil. What? – How much did you make out of rubber last year through, Lil? Rubber? Rubber? Rubber? I don't know. – To rubber. How much? – Four fifty. There. – I did my house up with it. Gave the job to young Charlie Ramston, who's gone in for decorating. – Yes, and blew the whole lot at one go. Blewed it completely. – What does the blue sea whisper to me? Farncombe appears at her side with the waiter, carrying the ices. – Isis? Roper leaving Gabrielle and with his hands in his pockets, walking about exultingly. – Isis, sweet old chocolate, full piano score. – Hello, here. Glyn and Olga and D'Castro and Evangeline have entered at the right hand door at the back. Olga and Evangeline seek themselves upon the further set tee in the center, and Glyn and D'Castro summon a waiter to attend upon them. Shirley and Flo now enter at the door on the left and go to the counter. At the same moment, Smythe, Coolean and Tavish enter at the right hand door at the back. Smythe smoking a huge cigar. They also stand at the counter and are served with drinks by Luigi. Lily and Gabrielle, having each taken an ice, the waiter with the ices moves away and offers his ices to the other ladies. Another waiter carries round a tray on which are a box of cigarettes and the spirit lamp, and the bearded waiter moves about with the dish of sandwiches. Some of the ladies light cigarettes, a few of the men take sandwiches. Coolean as he enters with Smythe and Tavish. Ha! Ha! Ha! Your wonderful chief. To Tavish. The chiefs in great form, Willie. To Stiddle. Colonel, listen to the chiefs. Mrs. Stiddle to von Rettemeyer, confidentially. Of course, this is strictly between ourselves, though I almost ended as much to Smith. But the fact is, the Pandora isn't in the least what it was, Carl. Nodding is what it was, my dear Dali, and nobody. Mrs. Stiddle fending herself. I suppose he can't find the artists. That's it. If you don't have the artists. Shutting up her fan. You recollect my Polly Taggart in the merry milliner. Von Rettemeyer stifling a yarn. Charming. Charming. Fern Combe is bending over Lily while she is eating her ice, and they are talking lightly but intently. Gabrielle, finding that she is out of it, rises with a pout and carrying her plate, joins the ladies and men who are at the fireplace. Bland enters with Jimmy at the door on the left. Mrs. Stiddle to von Rettemeyer. I hate blowing my own trumpet, but I was looking through my press cuttings only yesterday. I've never seen such notices as I had for Polly Taggart. Von Rettemeyer closing his eyes. Favorable. Favorable? They make me blush to read them. Stupid of me, but they make me blush positively. Jimmy comes to Lily, Bland, following her. On her way she sees the handkerchief and powder puff lying upon the floor. Why, there it is. Picking up the handkerchief and puff and rubbing the puff, which is an extremely ragged one over her nose, singing sentimentally. There are no friends like the old friends, the constant tried and true. Sitting beside Lily. Room for a little on. Lily, without interrupting her talk with Barncomb, lays her hand on Jimmy's for a moment. Bland to Jimmy. Bring you anything? Jimmy wrapping the puff in the handkerchief tenderly and slipping it into her bosom. A liqueur of petrol and a lucifer match. Bland leaving her. Oh, go on. Mrs. Stiddle to von Rettemeyer. And then to give it all up, as I was idiot enough to do when I'm married. And for a life as dull as ditch water, if ever a woman sacrificed herself in this world. Fulkerson and Daphne enter at the door on the left and hurry to the counter. Fulkerson boisterously. Time, time. To those standing at the counter. Hello me, hello me. To Luigi. Glass of lemonade and a whiskey and soda. Quick with the whiskey and soda. Mrs. Stiddle to von Rettemeyer. But I don't intend to stick to that arrangement. If I can't get back into the theatres, there are halls. I was telling the Colonel this morning. Roper appearing before Mrs. Stiddle, his program in his hand. Our story. Von Rettemeyer rising with alacrity. Ah! Bowing to Mrs. Stiddle. A yield-river reluctance. Roper sits beside Mrs. Stiddle and von Rettemeyer hastens to eat him. Roper to Mrs. Stiddle. Another waltz. Daphne to Hinnage, who is claiming her. Wait till I've finished my drinks, Dewey. Land to Nita. Nita? No, this is with Douglas. Nothing of the sort. And Nita, referring to her program? You're correct. My mistake. De Castro coming to Gabrielle, who is talking to Sibyl. Gapth. Oh, you again. De Castro mortified. Afraid, though. The sound of distant music is again heard, and there is a great deal of bustle as the men claim their partners. Tavish goes to Evangeline, Grimwood to Flo, Falk and Glenn to Olga and Sibyl. And gradually the assemblage melts away. Volkerson coming to Jimmy, who is carrying her program and standing before her, reading from his program. Vols, cry de coeur. Jimmy with withering accuracy. Valtz, cri de coeur. Volkerson wagging his head. Very likely. Come along, Jimmy. Jimmy rising and shaking herself out. Jane to you, if you please. Toss. I was christened, Jane, Herbert. Well, I wasn't under christening, see? No, but if you are not more careful of those feet of yours while you're waltzing, you will be at my funeral. She takes his arm and they go out at the door on the left. Smythe, Stidolf, Coolean and Shirley follow talking together. All the couples have now disappeared, except von Rettenmeyer and Enid and Farncombe and Lily. Von Rettenmeyer and Enid are at the counter, where Luigi is giving von Rettenmeyer a glass of champagne, and the waiters are busy in themselves in collecting the soiled glasses, plates, etc., which have been left upon the mantelpiece and chairs. The bearded waiter comes to Lily and she hands him her plate. Farncombe to Lily. Shall we go down? She rises, leaving her bouquet upon the setee, and is about to put her arm through Farncombe's when she checks herself and looks at her program. Lily frowning. Eh? One, two, three, four. Why, this is our fifth dance. Yes. Five out of eight. Farncombe looking at his program. And ten, twelve, and fourteen are mine, too. Lily with the movement of her shoulders accepting his arm. How unfair! Farncombe as they go to the right-hand door at the back. Unfair? To the others. I can't think what made me so thoughtless. They disappear. Two of the waiters carrying out the soiled glasses, etc., another follows with the ices, and the bearded waiter with the strawberries and cream. After a while Luigi also withdraws. Enid leaving the counter with von Rettenmeyer. Well, what did you say to him? I told him the bees once lifting in the second arc, and that he ought to give you another dance. What did he say? He will think it over. Oh, that's Mime's invariable formula, cunning old fox. But we are to talk about it later. I am waiting to get him alone. You won't get him alone, you stupid. He'll take precious good care of that. Finding that Luigi and the waiters have departed, and walking across to the left. Oh, but it isn't dancing my mind swelling on just now, dear boy. Von Rettenmeyer following her. Not. It's rest I'm yearning for. My holiday. Rest for my weary bones. Turning to him without a sign of disturbance. Carl, I'm simply bursting with rage. Rage? That a wretched hotel at Ostend, the plage. They have the confounded impudence to ask me a hundred and twenty-five francs a day for two cubbyholes on the third floor for my aunt and me. Monstrous. With a shrug, yeah. But Ostend is... Ostend. Thanks for the information. Is that all the sympathy you can offer? But there may be keeper-olders. Where the common people pay for their beds and meals with cooked coupons? Sitting upon the arm of the further setee in the centre, and swinging her feet. Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose it'll have to be a swanage, or some brisk resort of that description. Oh, so be it. Tra-la-la-la. Von Rettenmeyer sitting on the newer setee in the centre, close to her, with an anxious expression. A hundred and twenty-five francs a day? Including nothing. Absolutely nothing. Von Rettenmeyer biting his nails. Precisely. There's the eating and drinking. One can't starve, that's certain. Which would amount to... Enid watching him out of the corner of her eye. I believe Aunt and I could manage to feed ourselves on forty francs a day, or fifty, at a pinch. Von Rettenmeyer, his face growing longer and longer. A hundred and twenty-five and fifty? A hundred and seventy-five. Stoke in his hair with a finger. Call it two hundred. Von Rettenmeyer leaning back up whole. Fifty zigz pounds a week? Sixty in round figures. For a fortnight? Oh, no, dear! A fortnight's no use. But one becomes sick of a place after a fortnight. If you only go for enjoyment, not if you go for rest. Rest! Three weeks, then. A month. Smythe gives me the whole of August. Von Rettenmeyer passing his hand across his forehead. A month! Enid rising and carefully picking a piece of fluff from her skirt. We're losing this dance. Shall we have a turn? He gets to his feet with some difficulty and then faces her. Von Rettenmeyer breathing heavily. Enid? Enid, gaiolously. Yes? Von Rettenmeyer putting his heels together and bowing to her. If you would permit me to be your banker during your stay at Austin. Four weeks. Call. I should be most gratified. Enid going to him. I couldn't. Such an obligation. Von Rettenmeyer bowing again. On my side. Enid giving him her hands. Of course. I defray my travelling expenses and tips and incidentals. Von Rettenmeyer raising her hands to his lips. Not a penny of those should fall on you. Withdrawing her hands quickly. And backing away from him. Stidolf enters at the door on the left and again wanders to the counter. Stidolf taking another cigarette. You're missing a very pretty waltz, Miss Moncreef. Enid going to the door on the left. Von Rettenmeyer following her. I was just saying so to the baron. Enid and Von Rettenmeyer disappear. Stidolf lights his cigarette and is leaving the counter when Gabrielle and De Casto enter at the right-hand door at the back. De Casto looking exceedingly selfie. Stidolf to Gabrielle and De Casto. Ah, Miss Kato. Ah, Sam. A pleasant party, eh? Yes. Stidolf goes out at the right-hand door at the back. De Casto crosses to the left and then turns to Gabrielle. Damn pleasant party. Well, don't make a scene. Scene. I'm not making a scene. Walking away from me in the middle of a dance and leaving me standing, staring after you like a derthurted child. You're making the scene. I am very sorry. I'm just as good a waltzer as anyone here and better than most. Waving his arms. If you're tired of me, announce the fact quietly. Don't go and wipe your boots on me in public, because that hurts my pride. Gabrielle with a little twist of her body. I can't do more than apologise. First time I've ever done that to a man. De Casto coming to her mollified. I don't ask it, Gaps. I don't ask it. All I ask. Gabrielle sitting on the nearest city in the centre. If I'm rude, it's owing to my low spirits. I'm so shockingly low-spirited. I know you are, and I make a law on this for you. I repeat, all I ask. Gabrielle gazing at vacancy. Mine is a strange nature. On the stage I am liveliness itself. A perfect little lump of talent. I've been telling Carlton, though, persuading him to introduce an extra song for you in act two. Gabrielle looking at the castle. You have? Yes. Did he promise to think it over? His exact words. Resuming her former attitude. As I was remarking, I'm a mass of inconsistency. On the stage, the embodiment of elfish fun. That was in the mail. Gabrielle nodding. In the mail. Off the stage, I am a sufferer from what's called the artistic temperature. No, temperament. The castle uncomfortably patting her shoulder. Poor little girl. Poor little girl. Gabrielle, her melancholy increasing. Sometimes I have an idea that if I had a motor car of my own, I should feel easier and happier. What do you mean? A motor car of your own? Mines always at your disposal, isn't it? Gabrielle shaking her head. That's not the same thing. Whenever I have yours out, I am weighed down by a sense of borrowing. Well, if I gave you a new car, you'd be weighed down by a sense of my having paid for it. At first I should, but not for long. Seeing my family crest on the door panels instead of your monogram would help me to forget you'd had anything to do with it. Gloomily. Of course, it would be only an experiment. It might cheer me up, or it mightn't. The music ceases. A waiter-carried detray enters at the door on the left, goes behind the counter and mixes some drinks. The castle after a pause loosening his collar in a low voice. Here, we'd better discuss this experiment. Glancing over his shoulder at the waiter. Let's come and sit in the pit. Gabrielle rising. I can't argue. My head is too bad for that. The castle leading her to the double door. I don't want to argue. I simply want to arrive at an understanding. Supposing I'd buy you a car. Am I to be made an arse of at the next dance we happen to meet at? Yes or no? They go out onto the landing and disappear as Fulkerson hurries in at the right-hand door at the back. His eyes are rather glassy and his utterance is a little thick. Fulkerson to the waiter, joining him behind the counter. Hi. Wake up there. Glass of soda with a misspelling stage. Misspelling stage. Glass of soda over there. I'd have whiskey. What's whiskey? Which is the whiskey thing? Pouring some whiskey into a tumbler. You took soda water with misspelling stage. I'd mix more whiskey. You took soda water with misspelling stage. The waiter goes out with the drinks and Fulkerson, glass in hand, comes to the nearest side of the counter. He swallows his drink greedily, singing to himself between the gulps. Oh, the girls. Oh, the girls. They're all fully fond of the girls. Putting his empty glass upon the counter and making for the door on the left. Be there by the board of Fulkerson's phone and dreadfully fond of the girls. He vanishes as Farncombe and Lily enter at the right-hand door at the back. There is an era of constraint and uneasiness about the girl. She comes to the nearest settee in the centre and again picks up her bouquet. Farncombe follows her. They talk in subdued voices and with frequent pauses. Another ice. Lily rearranging a rose. No, thanks. I... I wish I had given you a bouquet instead of a big ugly basket. Why? You... you might have brought it to the theatre as due of that one and carried it about with you. I didn't bring this to the theatre. No. I found it with a lot of other flowers at the stage door. It's from the gallery boys. Looking at him for a moment steadily. And I attach some value to it. The bearded waiter enters at the right-hand door at the back, takes a box of cigars from the counter, and goes out at the door on the left. Lily walks away from Farncombe and seeks herself upon the further settee in the centre. Farncombe, as the waiter has withdrawn, producing his programme. No. 9. Two step. Mine the paint. To Lily. Of course you... you are engaged for this. Thank you, Shirley. No, I... I kept it open in case... In case. I dance it with Maury. Mr. Cooling. Maury Cooling. Farncombe after another pause, sitting behind her upon the nearer settee. Miss Peridot. Well? I wonder whether Mr. Cooling would let you off. I shouldn't dream of asking him. No, but... may I? I beg you'll do nothing of the sort. Forgive me. There is a further pause, and then she turns to him. Why, I spoke so... so sharply to you, was... You didn't speak sharply to me. Was because I've been very nasty with Maury, wrote him a furious letter, and I want to make it up to him. Ah, yes. I called him a pig, and other things. I hate myself for it. A pig? Lily Spineyne. Still, that's no reason why I should be nasty with you. And call me a pig. Lily impulsively kneeling upon the settee, so that she may compare her program with his. Look here. Fifteen. The Lost But One. Are you fixed up for fifteen? No. No. I kept it open... in case. Ha ha. A check-in herself severely. I might be able to give you fifteen. Farncombe scribbles on his program eagerly. Don't count on it, please. But it's but to Mr. Folkerson, and Bertie's not always to be depended upon at that hour. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. She resumes her seat, and he jumps up and goes to her. That reminds me. May I ask who is going to see you home, Miss Peridale? See me home? It would be an honour that I should appreciate, more than I can, find words to express. Lily, rising, sternly. I am very much obliged to you. Walking away from him again. I daresay Mr. Roper will see me home, and Mr. De Castro, and Mr. Bland. Farncombe following her unhappily. I—I hope—I—I hope I haven't offended you. Not in the least. Only I am in the habit of relying on old friends for those little services. Stidope enters from the landing, and again wanders to the counter and to the cigarettes. The bind-the-paint air, to the time of a two-step, is played in the distance. Farncombe bowing to Lily slightly, and drawing himself up. Shall I take you to Mr. Cooling? Lily, with dignity, inclining her head. Will you? She has put in her hand through his arm, when the look upon his face softens her. She drops her voice to a whisper. Have I hurt you? Oh, I deserve the rebuke. No, you don't. Gently. You may leave me at my door with the others, if it will give you any satisfaction. As they walk to the door at the left, they are met by Cooling. Cooling to Lily breathlessly. Ah, here you are. Lily leaving Farncombe, her manner authoring completely. Come on, Mori. Her feet moving to the music. Tra-la-la! Tra-la-la! Giving her bouquet to Farncombe. Hi! Bring my flowers. Tra-la-la! Tra-la-la! They run out, half dancing. Stidolf calling to Farncombe, who is following them. Lord Farncombe. Yes? Stidolf going to him. Will you spare me a moment? Farncombe, a little impatiently. Uh, certainly. Stidolf laying a shaking hand on Farncombe's arm, and leading him away from the door. Excuse me for what I'm going to say to you. I know your father. Knew him very well years ago. And your mother. With deep feeling. My boy, my dear boy. Farncombe surprised. Colonel. I, uh, I'm sorry to find you in this set. What do you mean? Don't be angry with me. I'm an old man. And an old fool. But it's from the fools that the useful lessons are to be learned. Farncombe, withdrawing his arm from Stidolf. I really don't understand you. Try to. Not now, and another time. When this music isn't exciting you, nor these pretty women. Think it out by yourself. You're at the beginning of your career, my boy. Remember me? The old fool brought his to a miserable end. And that I cautioned you. Cautioned you. Luigi hurries in at the door on the left, followed by a wager carrying a tray, and by the wager with the beard. Hee hee hee. Behind the counter preparing drinks. Look out, gentlemen. You are losing it all. They are having a romp. A fine luck. Farncombe goes out at the door on the left. Make haste, Colonel. Make haste. Stidolf goes out slowly at the right-hand door at the back. Whiskey and soda for Mr. Tevish. Be clear of brandy, Mr. Greenwood. The wager carrying the tray goes out with the drinks at the door on the left. Luigi is following the wager who has carried out the tray, when the bearded wager coming to the nearer said tea in the center, sitting upon the said tea, calls to him, gruffly. Luigi. Luigi halting. The bearded waiter taking out a handful of money and selecting some gold from it. Here. Putting the gold into Luigi's palm. For your chaps. Oh, you are spoiling them. The bearded waiter giving some more gold pieces to Luigi. For you. Luigi bowing low. Thank you very much. With a polite grin as he disposes of the coins in different pockets. Hope you have enjoyed yourself, Captain. The bearded waiter speaking in the voice of geez. Thoroughly. Quietly between his teeth. Warm work, though. Rising slowly like a man with stiff joints. I'll be off now with your permission. See you at lunch, Captain? Probably. Nighting. Good night. Good morning. He slouches away to the door on the left and there stops, listening. There is the sound of people approaching, singing uproariously and shouting and laughing. Hello. Luigi at his elbow. Luigi goes out into the corridor, and geez recreates behind the counter. The noise increases and presently focus and rushes in, flourishing his arms madly. He is followed by Glen and Shirley who are carrying Lily upon their interlocked hands and by Poc who is helping to support her. Then come Henich and Nita, Grimwood and Daphne, Tavish and Flo, Von Rettenmeyer and Enid, De Castro and Gabrielle. Roper and Mrs. Dittle, Farncombe and Jimmy, Bland and Evangeline, Cooley and Sybil and Smythe and Olga, singing the course of The Mind the Paint Song and dancing to it wildly. They circle the saloon twice, go out at the right-hand door, at the back, return at the door on the left, and finally disappear through the double door and along the landing. The wagers who have brought up the rear of the procession gather with Luigi in the left-hand corner, clapping their hands and Stiddle returns, entering at the right-hand door at the back. Lily waving her bouquet and shrieking with laughter. Henich and Grimwood yelling, focus and deliriously endeavoring to stand upon his head. Jimmy breaking from the rank and jumping on to the further setee. Mind the paint, mind the paint. A girl is not a sinner just because she's not a saint. You dropped me. As the procession passes out of sight, followed by Luigi and the wagers, G's departs at the door on the left, and Stiddle once more goes to the counter and lights a cigarette. End of Act Two