 Act 3 of The Wasters by Arthur Adams This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act 3 Scene It is evening, and the reception hall at Aladala is decorated for the ball. The French windows are open, and outside is the intense blue of Australian moonlight. The music of a waltz, evidently played in the marquee on the lawn, is heard. Baby Danga and John Danga are seen standing awaiting the arrival of their guests. Baby has just shaken the hands of two ladies, and as they go off to the French windows, she faces round to receive the next arrival. Behind her are standing two ladies, stylishly gowned, members of her house party, chatting to each other. The butler waits at attention at the entrance. For a moment there is no one to announce. It's very late. The Clibbons can't be coming. They will. Mrs. Clibbon assured me this afternoon that she would be delighted to come, and bring her husband. But they're not here, and it's long after nine. Miss Hebelthwaith. Mr. J. Charteris Maggs. Elizabeth Hebelthwaith and Maggs arrive. Good evening, Mrs. Hebelthwaith. So pleased to see you. And you, Mr. Maggs. Your pleasure, madam. I mean it is a great pleasure, madam. The dancing is in the marquee, on the lawn, through there. Elizabeth and Maggs pass out. Here they are at last. No. It's only Lindsay. Lindsay Fong arrives. You're very late, you bad boy. Sorry, baby, your usual trouble starts. You ought to marry Fong, or wife's invaluable, for putting in studs. I think Lindsay has a higher ideal of women than that. I've no ideals of that, women. I'm only too grateful to Providence for letting us have them at all. Two ladies behind, baby. Ah, good evening. I hope you have kept a dance for me. Miss Euphemia Titania Quark. Posse Quark enters. Good evening, Miss Quark. Hello, Miss Quark. Been waiting for you for hours. Oh, Mr. Thong, how could you say such a thing? I could say worse things than that. I wonder if you're engaged for this waltz. Come on, or we'll miss it. Oh, Mr. Thong. He escorts her out. They're not coming. They won't come. They must come. You should have seen Mrs. Clibbon's face light up when I invited her. But they're very late. Oh, John, if... If they don't come and guy... No, they'll be here. She's not the sort to have an evening dress ready. She's fixing up something as like the description of my last ball dress as she can manage. I know Clibbon. They won't come. They will. I know Mrs. Clibbon. Mr. Anthony Clibbon. There. I told you. But his wife. She's not with him. Anthony Clibbon enters. It doesn't matter about her. The main thing is we've hooked him. Good evening, Mr. Clibbon. So delighted. Good evening. Sorry I'm late. And Mrs. Clibbon? I must make her apologies, Mrs. Danga. She's a bad headache. Oh, and I'd count on her to make up my party. I'm so sorry. Please tell her I hope she'll be better tomorrow. I want to take her cooling with me. I'm afraid Mrs. Dango, it's the sort of headache that lasts three days. Then I'll call tomorrow and see how she is. I'm afraid she'll be in bed. She won't be able to see you. Oh, but I'm keeping you from the dance. Let me introduce you to my friends. Mrs. Weston, Mrs. Culdo, let me introduce you John's right hand in business and one of our oldest friends, Mr. Clibbon. I want you to do me a favour, Mr. Clibbon. I'm keeping my friends from their partners. Why don't you please take them to the Marquis? Certainly, Mrs. Danga. Clibbon takes the ladies out. Him and not her. I can't understand it. She's got no headache, of course. There isn't any room in her head for an ache. It's a heart ache because she hasn't got a new dress. But why did he come? Oh, John, if I failed... Where's Guy? He's gone out. The poor boy simply couldn't dance tonight. But Mr. Clibbon here and not his wife, he must have looked her up. But why did he come and wear that look on his face? I'm horribly afraid. Baby, it'll be all right. He wouldn't have come unless he was going to give way. Well, I'll find out tonight. But come, we mustn't let anyone see we're worried. Come to the Marquis. They go out. Thong and Tossi enter from the side door, Tossi leading the way as if escaping from him. In here, please, Mr. Thong. But why not in there? It's too lonely in there. Well, there's nobody here either. But lots of people will be passing through, and there's more light here. But we don't want a crowd in eliminations. I do. But why? Because you're Mr. Thong. Oh, that's it. He sits beside her. I'm not to be trusted. I trust you. I'm sitting out with you. But I've heard all about you. You're a bad man, a wicked man. Thanks to you guessing that. Of course I'm bad. No unmarried man is a saint after forty. When that recording angel up there turtles up the items in my life, I'm afraid he won't find much except clean blank pages on the credit side. And the debit side, he'll have to use a credit index cabinet and a staff of stenographers. Mr. Thong, why don't you try to put a few good actions to balance the... the others? To balance that affair of Millie Sullivan's, for instance. So you know about that. Well, I just can't help it. Made that way, I suppose, Tossie. Oh, you can't be all bad, Mr. Thong. Too late to start growing wings now. Look at the long list of previous convictions. The recording angel doesn't add up like that. One little good action would wipe off ten pages of bad ones. But he'd have to write off a whole library. I simply can't believe you all bad. With those eyes. It's these confounded eyes that get me into all the trouble. Women look at them, just as you're looking into them, Tossie. And that reminds me, you can't be getting much of a living wage if you don't do that. You can't be getting much of a living wage at the shop. Not much left over to spin on dresses in your hands, say? This frock. Oh, you do think it's smart, don't you? Very pretty. Not as pretty as the wearer. I made it myself. Copied one of our latest models. But it's cheap, eh? Oh, don't say it looks cheap. Only to media. Remember, I'm a connoisseur on women's dresses. I know what they cost. Had to pay for too many of them. But not many men could tell that that lace is imitation. Cheap imitation, too. Yes, but every woman knows. They're dreadful women's eyes when they price your gown. I think hell must be a place where every other woman is better dressed and looks you up and down. And Charteris knows, too. Who the deuce is Charteris? Mr. Mads, the head shopwalker. This way, madam. And he loves you. N-n-no. He's dancing this very dance with that scraggy cat of a secretary. I'm so glad he saw me dancing with you. That's why I brought you in through the drawing room. I made him see me. But Eliza Hebelthwaite was wearing a real aigrette. A band and Eliza. But you know you can have one, too. You can have a dozen. Oh, no. I couldn't take anything from you. You will. And a real dress. And all those expensive under-things I let myself in for this morning. You didn't guess that I was buying that little lot for you, did you, dear? Oh, Mr. Thong. I didn't know it either. Till I saw how nice you looked tonight. No, I couldn't take them. From you. Nonsense, Tossie. You must be well dressed when I take you out to supper in town. Please, Mr. Thong, don't say things like that. I'm a good girl. I look after you and give you a real good time. Better than wearing out your prettiness behind a woman's counter. I'll set you up in a nice little house of your own. I'll... Tossie, facing him. Simply. Mr. Thong, are you asking me to marry you? Marry? Well, not at present. Afterwards, if I like you very much. Yeah, we'll see. Then you are bad. Turning to go. Mr. Thong, I won't listen to you. Oh, yes, dear, you will. He catches her and kisses her. How dare you! Leave me go! Steady. Don't be a little fool. Every girl goes on like this at first. Leave me go or I'll scream. No, you won't. I'll come here and find you in my arms. Tossie, listen to reason. I love you. I want you. You like me. You can't deny that you like me. I'll be good to you. I swear I will. I'm not a married man, but you won't come to any harm through me. You do like me, don't you, little girl? Tossie, weakening. Leave me go! You brute! I'm sorry I frightened you. Releasing her, but wearily watching her. Let's be friends. Kiss and be friends. Oh, how dare you! Kiss me. No, the girls were right about you. You're bad. I hate you. Yes, I'm bad. I'm rotten because I want you. She makes a movement to escape. And you don't get away. He attempts to kiss her. He attempts to kiss her. She escapes. You cat! You're too delicious to let slip. He attempts to seize her. She evades him, but he corners her. Listen, Mr. Thong. You've made a mistake about me. I'm not that sort of girl. I'm straight. If I wasn't, you're not the first man who has tried it on. No man's an angel when there are pretty women about. Oh, but you're not bad. Not really bad. You're a good man. Only women have given in so easily to you that you've never had a chance to respect us. But I know that right down in your heart, you're good. I know you'll respect a girl who tries to go straight. You didn't know what you were doing just now. I know you're a gent. A real gent. I know you'll let me go. Let you go? Not much. Why? Because I feel now I can't go. Not even if you stood over at that door. Because... Oh, Mr. Thong, I feel I don't want to go. Don't want to go? Then it's all right. Mr. Thong, I'm good. I'm straight. And now, now I can't help myself. So you must help me. And I know you will. Now that I'm in your power, with a broken hand with a broken wing, you couldn't hurt me. And my wings are broken. So you'll be a man and let me go. You'll let me flutter away, won't you? Because I can't flutter far. So you're straight, eh? Clean all through? I'm sorry. You've made me feel a fool. Will you forgive me, Tossie? Oh no, I can't ask that. But I do forgive you. It's nice of you to try and let me down easily, little bird. But I can't believe that. Women have to do a lot of forgiving, Mr. Thong. It's their business, you know. And I do forgive you because... No, I can't help it. Because I do like you. Though I know it's wrong. But you let me go when both my wings were broken. And when I didn't even want to fly. And you knew it. And let me go. That's why I forgive you. Tossie. You've beaten me. You've made me feel a blithering fool. And there's no worse hell for a man than that. And I'm a bad egg. I'm sorry. I won't see you again. You're safe. Turns to go. Goodbye. I don't hate you at all. She extends her hand. You shake hands? With a man I... respect. Come on out, Tossie. You don't mean that. I do. But you must promise me one thing. Promise me you'll let women off. When they can't escape themselves. We're not much when we're up against temptation. At least the kind of women that you know. But there's very few of us really that want to go wrong. You've got all the odds on your side. But a real gent don't use them. And you're wrong when you think all women weak. Nah. I've always known there was other kind of woman. I've known one all my life. Known and loved her. And stood aside. And now I know too. Give them a chance, that's all. I'll try a little bit. Though I wouldn't put any money on the result. You see, I've got too many black marks against me. Filed away up there. Listen. Can't you hear a sound up there? Like tearing up paper? No. I can. It's that recording angel. He's ripping out page after page of your account. Manipulating the books, is he? The old rascal. Wait till judgement day and I'll bowl him out. Well? He puts out his hand. She takes it. Thanks. Now I'm going to get you some supper. I'm famished. Emotions do leave you empty, don't they? They go out. Elizabeth Habboth Waite and Jay Charterist Mags appear. Elizabeth comes in first. Walking determinately ahead of Mags. No. Say it here. The idea of proposing on the lawn in full sight of everybody where there is no place to sit down. She seats herself. Mags stiffly. Without enthusiasm. Elizabeth, I love you. Elizabeth, I love you. I love you. Oh. Is that all? Yes. Yes, I think that's all. But it sounds so bare Charterist. Can't you put some frillies round it? I don't talk shop out of shop hours. This is too important for frillies. I have loved you from the first. But you never even spoke to me till I was promoted to be Miss Elizabeth. I've never even spoken to you from the first. I've never even spoken to you from the first. Till I was promoted to be Mr. Danger's private secretary. Now I worshipped at a distance, Elizabeth. Tell me, Charterist. What do you love me for? Yourself. I really can't exactly tell. There's something about you. Now I think it is just you. But you're not answering me. Can you? Will you? How on earth can I tell till you've kissed me? Yeah? No, on the customary place. Mags seating himself beside her and perfunctually kissing her. Well? I'm not quite sure. You might try again. Mags does so. Yes. It's quite astonishing how a kiss clears the head. No, you need installed. He kisses her. Yes. That settles it. I love you. Darling, then you'll marry me? As quick as I can. I'm fair tired of the shop. Mags taken a beck springing to his feet. Tired of the shop? You're not thinking of giving up your job? Oh, aren't I? There's not a girl in the shop that wouldn't chuck it to marry a Chinaman. Why, the only promotion we look to is a husband, private secretary, when it can have a house of my own. But, my darling, you know I haven't much of a screw. One hundred and eighty. I looked it up long ago. That isn't enough to set up housekeeping, is it? I thought that with your screw added to mine we'd be able to have quite a swell little place. Me go on typing other people's letters, when I can have a house and a husband of my own. No, of course, but... Me go on typing for old Danger when I could be cooking for you. But with your business prospects? I've got something better than business prospects. She embraces him. I've got you. And bless your silly sentimental heart, darling. I don't care how small your screw is, as long as I've got you. And you have got me. She turns to go out. This comes of marrying for money. And I might have had that bargain tossy. They go out. Baby Dengar appears. This is Lindsay Thong entering from the garden. Lindsay! What's the trouble, baby? I must see Mr. Clibbon. You must find him and send him to me here at once. Right. I saw him on the lawn just now. And don't tell John I must see Mr. Clibbon alone. She throws her rep on the seat. Where's John anyway? I got rid of him by sending him what do you want to see Clibbon for? I saw John speaking to him half an hour ago. That's why that man won't give way. He means to ruin Guy and us. Then why did he come here? He came confident that John would accept his terms. He came here as a conqueror to accept our surrender. Then nothing can be done. You can't say till I till I've appealed to him. No chance. Lindsay, don't you understand that I must save my boy at whatever cost? Baby, I don't like it. I'm afraid. Of what? Of the past. Oh, that? That's dead. Careful, baby. No resurrections. But for Guy? Well, I'll send Clibbon. But careful. He goes off. Megs and Elizabeth have both wait to enter with John Dengar. Then Baby Dengar retires quickly. But what is so important that I can't wait till tomorrow, Miss Hebbethwaite? I want to resign, Mr. Dengar. Resign? I can't spare you if it's a question of salary. That's what I've been telling her, sir. I say she's chucking good money away. But I'm going to be married, Mr. Dengar. That's a different matter. I see. Congratulations. I mustn't stand in your way, Miss Hebbethwaite. It'll be hard to replace you. To you, Megs? She says so. I congratulate you too, heartily. To Elizabeth. But what am I to do for another secretary as capable? That's just what I've been telling her, sir. And if you were to raise her screw, she might. To Elizabeth. We needn't be in too much of a hurry, darling. Impossible. I must give my whole time now to my Trussell. Ha ha, well. We'll meet your wishes, Miss Hebbethwaite. Megs, I congratulate you for getting an excellent businesswoman. I know that, sir. But I'm keeping you from each other. You must have so much to say to each other, eh? Oh, we've said it. Megs and Elizabeth Hebbethwaite go out. John, turning, and for the first time noticing Baby. Baby, what are you hiding here for? Did you see about those girls and the boat? Oh, they're all right. Got heaps of young men to look after them. I've left my rap somewhere. I can't go out without it. I left it on one of the seats on the lawn near the terrace. Won't you please fetch it? But I saw it on you five minutes ago, dear. I'm sure I left it on the lawn. The far end of the lawn. Why, here it is on this seat. So it is. Curious, I was sure I'd left it out there. Ah! Anthony Clibbon enters. You sent for me, Mrs. Danga. No. But Mr. Thong brought your message, your urgent message. Some mistake. I'm sorry to have inconvenience to you, Mr. Clibbon. But he insisted on my handing over my partner to him. He told me I should find you waiting here. Ah, yes, I quite forgot. I did want to introduce you to a dear friend of mine, Mrs. Watson. I've been telling her about Mrs. Clibbon and she's anxious to meet her. Very kind of you, Mrs. Danga. But where is she? Why, she's not here. She must have slipped out. She was here a moment ago. But I've been here quite a time and she wasn't here when I came. It's very curious. With a keen look at baby. You wanted to see Clibbon. You sent for him. What for, baby? I did send for Mr. Clibbon. But now it doesn't matter. Because I'm here? Yes. Ah! That fiction about your rap. Yes. And that message you sent me to the boat shed. What have you to do with this man? In secret. I just wanted to chat. Baby, you're not telling me quite the truth. Are you stupid, oh dear? Flaring up in this absurd way. I did have something to tell Mr. Clibbon. Well, tell it. I can't. While you're here. Now I'm here, you must. I can assure you, Mr. Dangar, I have no idea of any communication Mrs. Dangar could have for me. Nor do I care to hear any. If you'll allow me, I'll go. No! Stay here. Baby, tell Mr. Clibbon what you sent for him for. I insist that you tell him now in my presence. John, I can't. Because I'm here. Because you're here. There's something between you. Some infernal secret that I've always suspected. By God, baby, I'll find out. I've had enough of it. What is Clibbon to you or you to him? You must trust me. It is for Guy. I ask you to leave me and let me speak to Mr. Clibbon. If it's for Guy, I'm his father. I insist on being present. I'll speak. Or Guy is ruined. And if you compel me to speak before you you'll regret it all your life. Everything open and above board. No more women's tricks. Then I'll speak. Mr. Clibbon you are here tonight as our guest. I appeal to you to do your hostess a service. I am sure now that you've seen how much it would mean to me to us for any scandal to touch Guy and you will not insist. We've always been friends. We were friends even before I met my husband. Surely for the sake of that old friendship you will relent. Surely remembering those old days in Redfern you came here tonight to say you will keep silent. Mr. Guy has confessed his fault. I shall do my duty. No. You are not unreasonable. You will give way if we meet you fairly. Mr. Dangan knows my terms. Mr. Dangan will accept your terms. Never. Then there is nothing more to be said. Tony! Tony? Where did you learn to call this man Tony? What the infernal secret is between you? I will know. Lindsay Song enters. Lindsay, take me into the garden and take me away. No Lindsay, this is my wife. Oh, well. Turns to go. No, stay. What my wife has to say to this man, you our friend must hear. Yes Lindsay, stay. I want you to stay. I shall need you afterwards. At your service baby. Now speak. You forced me to speak before you. But Lindsay will understand. Dear. I love you. Always remember that I love you. I have always loved you. Except for two months madness. Yes, John. I've been unfaithful to you. I've been weak and foolish and force. But that was all long, long ago. And I've repented through 20 years, 20 long years every day and a night of 20,000 years. I've lived it down. And ever since I've loved you, only you. What? You don't know what you're saying baby. You can't mean Oh God. Quick, out with it. I was unfaithful to you, John. 20 years ago. No, you can't mean You? My wife? Unfaithful? With whom? With whom? With whom? With that man. Tony Clibbon. No. No. She's mad. Raving. She's not responsible for what she's saying, John. Can't you see that she's so rod up of a guy that she's hysterical? She'll say anything. Anything to say to him. Guy? He clutches her and looks into her face. You are not his father. I was right then. Not mine? Not my boy? But I've only got your word. A woman's word. Look at Guy. Look at his eyes. John clutching Clibbon by the shoulder about to strike him. You Clibbon looks him in the face. His eyes. Guy's eyes. He drops his hand and turns heavily away. I I swear I did not know. She lied to me. Lies. Lies always lies. All her life will lie. But you coming to Clibbon I can pay you out. Steady old man. That can't do any good. Nothing can do any good now. He turns away. Clibbon triumphant. Guy my son my son John. That was all over twenty years ago. It was a year or so after our marriage. The time when I hardly ever saw you. When you were so wrapped up in your big ambitions. The ambitions I so wanted to share. And Tony had wanted me before you came into my life. And it was you who sent him back into my life. And I was young and silly and persuaded myself that I was a neglected wife. And Tony was always there in my house taking your place at your own wish. And so so it happened. But I work when it was too late. I sent him out of my life never to enter it again. He has nothing to me. He has been nothing to me all these years. And I kept my secret even from him. I could not let my child go. Just as I could not let your love go. And ever since I've been paying for that short madness. John I've paid and paid and paid and now. Why? I can almost laugh. There is only this hour more to pay. Guy my boy John I had to tell I asked you to go away and you would not. And then there would have been no other chance and Guy would have been ruined. I had to save him. To save your brat. To ruin him. To save him. To Cleborn. Tony you cannot denounce Guy now. Your son. Mine. No, no. Everything has changed. I'll take him away up country. He loves the country. A son. Guy. Guy Cleborn. Where is he? I'm just now in his room. My child. I must see him. We'll go away out of all this into a new life. You'll let me see him sometimes. Yes, yes. Baby to Thong. Guy. My baby. Guy. Cleborn looks at the two bags turned to him and goes out. You see John. Baby was right. She has saved him. Lost him. Lost him forever. He turns on baby. Damn you and your lies. No, the truth. At last the clean, straight truth. Your lies were kinder. What have I left now? Guy and you. Both dead. No, that is done with. The hideous past is dead. But you've got the present. The future. Ashes. Dead sea ashes. I'll go, John. I had to speak. I'm glad. Inexpressibly glad that I had the courage to speak. Goodbye. Looks appealingly at him. He makes no move. Out of my life you. You. Baby Dengar goes slowly out with a long look at him. The music of a vault is heard again. All through the following scene. Rising at the last to a triumphant climax. Poor chap. It's a knock at our nail. But she must listen to me. All that happened years ago. All that has been lived down through 20 years of agony. How do I know? How do I know she's not lying yet in love with him still? If she could live that lie to me for 20 years, why mean she be lying to me now? She has murdered something in me. I trust in her. I can never trust her again. You talk like a melodrama. But if you listen to melodrama, she loves you. Ask yourself, man. All lies. No. Why did she keep silence so long? To retain your love. How do I know everything is gone? All of a sudden hope. Lindsay, after all, her confession was only another lie. A desperate lie to save our... to save the boy. It was the truth. But we've only got her word to go on. John El Chap. I know. You knew? From the first. She told me. You knew all along that a guy? I knew that. But I suspected. But you knew all about her and that man? Yes. I see now that I must have suspected all along. But the thing was inconceivable. Yet guy was so different to me. So unbusinesslike. And his eyes. Baby told me with tears and abasement after she had sent Clibbon away forever. That brief madness for which you were to blame had burnt itself out and she meant to confess it all to you. Ha! I wouldn't let her. I persuaded her out of it. And I acted rightly. There isn't one of us, man or woman, who has some ugly little incident that is happily buried and won't bear exhuming. If she kept silent, she was safe. She could retain your love, the only things she cared for then. But could she have kept silence when she saw her boy being ruined before our eyes? Babies and that sort, thank God. Think. When you shrank from a trivial business sacrifice to save Guy, she risked all her happiness. I believe every mother in the world would have done the same. John, I'll chat. What do you mean, sacrifice? Impulse. A mere unreasonable impulse. What would you give to be capable of such an impulse? These women, we laugh at them, we pet them, we play with them, we carefully or contemptuously screen them from all the big things of life and yet they're bigger than us. They're greater than us. What's the good of talk? The thing's done. The era is done. Finished with. Buried. But there is the future. Well, I've just got to go through with it. John. What can you expect me to do? Forgive her. Take her back. Forgive her. That? No. Go down on your knees and thank her. For what? For her sacrifice. For her cub. It seems to me that there isn't anything higher in the world than that. Without that instinct, where would this old rot of a world have been by now? Why? A mother started sacrificing herself for you as soon as you were born. If she had left you to yourself, if she hadn't had that mere animal instinct for her cub, merely being born of a woman isn't the great thing. It's her long sacrifice for us that makes our debt so huge. Why? If the bringing up of children had been left to men, we'd drown them as a nuisance. But a mother, even after she's had a dozen of them, does she ever think of drowning the 13th? No. They can't help it. They've got the edge to sacrifice. That's what they came into this world for. But to ruin my life? No. To make your life. Even so wrapped up in your business that you never lived? You looked on your wife as a pleasant slave provided by that provenance to look after your home and put in your shit studs. And all the while she had her own life to live. You stayed outside and slammed the door. Can you blame her? Young, inexperienced, weak. If when she found that one door locked against her she'd tried the latch of another. What is before us both now? But hate and loneliness. The future is before you. The new life. The true comradeship. You've never understood each other. Never made allowances for each other. You must forgive her. For she has laughed much. You must go humbly to her and seeing her weakness be grateful for a strength in her that is greater than yours. You must make the best of her. And the best of a woman is finer than the best of a man. Talk! Talk! If I could forgive her how could I forget the past? Dead. Twenty years dead. No, this is its resurrection. Yes. A resurrection. That dead fault, that dead secret lying all these years in its grave pressed down with terrified hands. That dead thing has come to life. Gloriously raised by supreme sacrifice. Think of the sheer bravery of that moment you brave man. Without that dead sin you would never have known the fine fiber of baby's soul. And this is the woman you could let slip from your life. This is the woman you think you can let go. Can you? Dare you, John Danga businessman! Wait, wait! Everything's gone. Love. Wife. Child. Your boy's gone. He was never yours. You never liked him. You were never friends. Well, he's gone out of the life he was never in. But your wife she's still within your reach and you want to centre forever beyond your reach. Lonely old boy don't like it. You can't stand it. Business won't make up for that loss. I suppose she has deceived you. Are there any men whom women haven't deceived? I've had my share of their tricks. Bless them, it's their game. They are brought up on it. We expected of them. We wouldn't like if, by some miracle a woman did tell us the truth about ourselves. I heard it once and it wasn't nice. It was only tonight. And after all, what do women's lies matter? We allow for them. It's only a game of theirs. They play it as a game. You know it takes a man to be a real professional liar. And even a real liar has to pass all sorts of difficult examinations before he's allowed to practice. Why? Women's deceit is half their charm for us. They keep us delightfully guessing. And once we've guessed that big conundrum woman, life holds nothing more for us but a good dinner. Granted, John, that this deceit was a big one. The biggest coward a woman can play. Granted that she's betrayed you. Broken you. Well, cut that out. Aren't there enough of her good qualities left to enable you to carry on? She's not an angel. She's better. She's a woman. And you're not exactly an angel yourself. Suppose she's not your ideal now. Suppose she's only the second best. You thought you had got the best. Not all of us deserve the best. But we men get a damn sight more than we do deserve when we get a good woman like baby. And isn't the second best better than none at all? She's your wife. She loves you. She proved that just now. You love her. Oh yes you do. Or you would have forgiven her half an hour ago. You've grown accustomed to her. You'll miss her. Oh Lord, how you'll miss her. You'll miss her about the house. You'll have to engage a housekeeper. You know you can't manage the servants. Or you can manage as a shop. Well, she's your housekeeper. She knows your ways. She makes things run easily for you. I know what it takes her on a house smoothly. I'm a bachelor. John. I'm simply appealing to your business interests. Stick to your housekeeper. Changes are bad for business. Wait, wait. It's too soon. Wait. Wait. Isn't she waiting? Out there somewhere. Isn't every minute now to her an eternity? You simply can't afford to wait. If you wait an hour you'll have to wait a lifetime. You're not a young man. You haven't a long time to make it up in. Begin now. This isn't a lovers quarrel. You've grown into a friendship more compact than love. Well, you'll send her away. And for the rest of your lives you too, who need each other now, and that you've only got each other, will be dead to each other. Dead in the same small world. You don't like it. You can't even button a stud without a fingers. But you'll be too proud. And you'll go on breaking your fingernails over your studs and wasting time in bad language. You will make the experiment of living with that woman. An experiment that has so far never succeeded. Look at me. Women may be weaklings and wasters, but we can't do without at least one of them. It's no use, Lindsay. I can't think yet. Wait. And she? Man, do you think she would come back to you if you waited half an hour or more? She's growing away from you every moment you waited listening to me. It's easy enough for you to talk. I'm on the rack and you expect me to behave like a reasonable man? Oh, you can talk. And what you say is right. But you're outside of it all. It doesn't hurt you. It's easy for you. Easy. Good God, John. Can't you guess how hard it is for me? Aren't you ever guessed? You? You've... loved her? Loved her. Man, I love her. I've loved her ever since I saw her at your wedding. I love her better than you ever did. You told her? Told her. No, you thundering fool. Didn't I say I love her? She doesn't know? Thank all the gods she doesn't know. I've been happy enough. It's something worthwhile just to love a woman like that. I'm not much. That old clerk of a recording angel works so that I'm solely on my account. But all the good there is in me is due to Bagby. And you think I don't see her faults? And do her faults make any difference? And John, if you send her out of your life, I... No. I don't think I could tell her, even then. Lindsay, I love her. Can't you see that it is because I love her that I can't forgive her? Is it because you love her that she stands here listening to a windbag and letting her cry her dear eyes out? She has sacrificed all. Can't you sacrifice that trivial thing, your pride? Haven't I sacrificed for twenty years? Hmm. Lindsay, you're right. You've taught me. I did not know that love could be like that. John, go to her. Say nothing. Hold out your arms. Do you think there's time yet to get her back? I know her better than you. There's time. In the garden? Yes. Don't speak. Take her in your arms and let her have a good, comfortable cry. If only I'm in time. John Danger goes out quickly. The music of the vaults swells triumphantly. Throne watching him off, then turning with the gesture of renunciation and looking up and raising his arm triumphantly. Wake up, you old wrought of a recording angel up there. Wake up and put down one little white mark on those big blank pages devoted to the credit balance of Lindsay Thong. Bad egg. Curtain. End of Act 3 End of The Wasters by Arthur Adams.