 Anne, by Letchmare Whirl. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Cast List Anne Annnings, read by Emma Hatton. Edward Hargraves, read by Campbell Schout. Billy Lloyd, read by Eddie Elfman. Evangeline, read by The Story Girl. Mrs. Hargraves, read by Anita Sloma-Martinez. The very reverend Samuel Hargraves, Dean of Milchester. Read by Todd. Stage Directions, read by Elsie Selwyn. Act One Scene Represents a very comfortable bachelor's sitting room in a residential hotel in London. A long bookcase filled with books in a very orderly manner right. A bust of Dante occupies a conspicuous position on the top of the bookcase. Door down right leads to the staircase. Another door up left leads into bedroom. Large recessed casement window with window seat at back right, opening on to balcony. Another large recessed casement window at back left, also open. Between the window's center is a huge writing desk with pedestal, telephone, writing materials, photos, in frames, of Dean and Mrs. Hargraves, electric reading lamp, lighted, golf sticks close to table, fireplace left with carved over mantle, on mantle, clock, ornaments, and photograph in frame of Evangeline. Large Chesterfield setee down left, armchair's center and right, club fender, occasional table's chairs, a quantity of ornaments, pipes, and all the paraphernalia of a young bachelor's den. Electric standard lamp just above left, end of setee, lighted, fireplace down left, fire lighted. At rise of curtains Mrs. Hargraves is discovered seated in an armchair's center, darning her son's socks. The dean is asleep on the setee. Edward is sitting on the fender with his back to the fire. Billy is seated right, doing a black and white sketch of the dean. My dear boy, where do you buy your socks? Oh, just anywhere, mother. I wish you wouldn't bother darning them. I always throw mine away, Mrs. Hargraves. I should imagine you would, Billy. The dean snores loudly, I'll look at him. It's positively disgraceful. Billy drawing rapidly. If I could only suggest that snore. Personally, I feel it's quite suggestive enough. Billy, the black and white artist, suggesting a snore. Telephone bell rings, going to phone. There she is again, poor old Edward. Who is it? An American interviewer, Mrs. Hargraves, awfully keen on Edward. Edward taking up receiver. Yes? No, I'm busy. I can't. Tell her I won't be interviewed. No, I won't. Puts receiver up. That's the sixth time she's rung me up. I think it's very foolish not to see her. Poor old novelist, such as fame. I do loathe the idea of being interviewed. It's so American. I wonder if it's that New York critic who praised her philosophy and roasted you so badly about your women. You never sent me that one, Edward. What did it say about your women? Go ahead, Teddy. Trot it out. It will keep. My dear boy, it won't. It's sour enough already. I like to hear both good and bad. Edward goes up to desk center. It isn't that I mind slating. My good literary slating is bracing, but when they attack my accuracy. Coming down center with press cutting book. Concerning women. Isn't it quite usual in a first novel and with a male novelist? Yes, but I... My dear chap, they're perfectly right. Thank you. You're welcome. Edward, finding press cutting. Listen to this, mother. His masterly methods of description are without blame. And his characterization of men and women is unique. But like many of the rising generation of novelists, he fails utterly in the handling of his womanfolk. Mr. Edward Hargraves knows the nothing of women below the age of forty. Virtuous, Edward. It's certainly true. I say that's a bit thick, mother. Dear old dad. Who wrote it? The same woman who always signs herself, Anne. She does go for me. Listen to this. Mr. Hargraves' description of a passionate kiss passes all understanding. Edward, you don't mean to tell me you never altered that kiss. I suppose I didn't. Well I'm only a poor black and white artist, but if I couldn't draw kiss and ink better than you can draw it in words, I'd chuck up art. That's the same girl who wants the interview. Hannah's honeymoon was delightful in parts. Your characterization of old farmer Williams, for instance, was excellent. I suppose you'll learn about women someday. You'll never write a successful novel if you don't. Edward kissing his mother. Dear old mother. How the girls would have loved you if you'd been a man. Apart from her slating, she's given me the most wonderful notice. Read this. Gives her press-cutting-book. Mrs. Hargraves reading. Mr. Hargraves writes with the enthusiasm of youth. His book breathes the purity and fragrance of a white man from cover to cover. The author of Hannah's honeymoon is just a very clever child who is observed with the philosophy of age and written with the optimistic inexperience of youth. Mr. Hargraves will go a long way. Ha-ha! But he shouldn't go alone. Wow-wow! That's a clever woman who wrote that. Probably some fearful blue stocking. Dean Snores. My hat! Mrs. Hargraves looking at cutting. Anne. I like Anne. Returns book to Edward. Edward appears to be pursued by Americans just at present. I suppose he hasn't told you it was an American girl he pulled out of the water at Henley yesterday. Why, my dear boy, you never mentioned it. Oh, it was nothing, mother. Only a ridiculous accident. Some girl trying to punt. She and the punt parted company, and I went to the rescue. Billy to Mrs. Hargraves. Fearfully funny, Mrs. Hargraves. The punt pole subsided, with dear little stars and stripes hanging on them to the business end of it, and shouting, Help, help! Pretty girl, too. Was she? Was she? I didn't notice. Anyway, she overwhelmed me with gratitude. I wish people wouldn't make such a fuss about nothing. Oh, you're too retiring. I wish it'd been my rescue. She was a topping girl. Mrs. Hargraves to Edward. I wonder if Evangeline will come round tonight. Oh, she'll probably think you're both tired after your journey. She said she might ring up, though. Have you seen much of her since she came up to London? Oh, yes. Billy comes centre and showing drawing to both. How's that for the dean's snore? Leans over back of Mrs. Hargraves' chair centre. Really, it's quite a remarkable likeness under the circumstances. Dean's snores. By Jove, that is a snore. Samuel. Dean, waking up. Uh, yes. What was it you said, my dear? Samuel, you've been snoring. My dear. I never snore. Dear old dad. Anyway, Billy's got you in black and white. No. Has he? Fumbling for his glasses. I must see. Billy, leaning over to Mrs. Hargraves' chair centre. Oh, yes. I've been snoring. My dear. I've been snoring. My dear. I never snore. Dear old dad. Anyway, Billy's got you in black and white. No. Has he? Fumbling for his glasses. I must see. Billy, leaning over back of couch, shows picture to Dean, the Dean who is then gently laughing, stops abruptly at sight of drawing. Uh, do I really look like that? Remarkable. Mrs. Hargraves to Billy. I think you ought to present it to him to hang up in his study. My dear. It's yours with pleasure, sir. Oh, thank you. I know you meant well. I'll have it framed. Returning drawing to Billy. Billy, rather disgusted, goes round right and puts drawing on table. We've been just telling Edward he knows very little about women. Ah, there's plenty of time. Plenty of time. Picks up newspaper and becomes interested in it. If something doesn't happen to enlighten me before I start my next novel, I warn you all I shall take to politics. Well, it is easier you get four hundred a year. Dean to Mrs. Hargraves. If Edward would only be guided by us and get engaged to some nice girl like... I know, Evangeline. Takes up photo. Why not, Edward? She's very amiable, thoroughly domesticated and altogether desirable. You've been friends since you were children. A life companion to any man. A Ruth Dwyneboaz. I've told you, dear people, so often I'm not in love with Evangeline. Puts picture on mental shelf. Dear old mother, don't sigh. I can't help it. I've never met the woman yet who... Your condition is positively dangerous. And remember, Evangeline is the kind of girl who will marry and be very happy without much romance. I suppose I'm much the same. The telephone bell rings again. Edward looks at it angrily, and Billy laughs. Now if it's that interviewer, uh... Goes to phone. Dean has taken up the evening paper and is reading. Do ask her up, Edward. You can't refuse. Edward, taking up receiver. Yes, who is it? Listens. I'm awfully sorry, but I can't. Yo, what? Pause. Alarmed. But wait a minute. No, don't ring off. Listens. Well, I'm... Puts down receiver. What's she want now? Of all the cheek. Of all the... What on earth's the matter? She says she'll get that interview whether I like it or not. Dean, putting paper down. But who is it, my dear boy? Oh, some American newspaper woman who wants to interview me, dad. What else did she say? Called me a shy, self-conscious Englishman. No. Dean, taking up newspaper again. Those Americans are a wonderful people. A truly wonderful people. I bet you she'll get that interview. I hope she will. You've no sense of business. Dean, looking at paper. Why? What's this, Edward? About you and an accident at Henley. Ha, ha, serves you jolly well right. They're stuck in the paper. Read it, Samuel. A novelist hero. Mr. Edward Hargraves, whose first novel has been one of the most widely discussed books of the year, yesterday rescued an American lady from an awkward predicament at Henley. Whilst making an amateurish attempt at punting, the lady and the punt potted company. As the pole sank deeper and deeper into the mud, her position became more and more precarious and in a few moments she was struggling in the water. Mr. Hargraves, who was on a houseboat nearby, without a moment's hesitation jumped into the water and rescued our fair American cousin amidst the plaudits of those who witnessed the accident from the bank. Amen. Much to the secret joy of his friend, Billy Lloyd, who wasn't a bit heroic but remained high and dry on the bank. What rot, shoving stuff like that in the papers. My dear boy, you did your duty manfully. And you have no idea who the girl was? None at all. Billy, looking at his watch. I say, Mr. Hargraves, I don't want to hurry you, but if we're going slumming ought we to be off. Dean, rising incoming left centre. Certainly. To Mrs. Hargraves. My dear, I suppose you will go to bed early tonight. Yes, but I want to have a talk with Edward first. God bless you. Good night, my dear. To Edward. I'll look in later on my way upstairs. Exit Dean Wright. Billy, to Mrs. Hargraves. I say, Mrs. Hargraves, if you can't persuade him to propose to Evangeline, try and persuade Evangeline to propose to me. Bye-bye, Teddy. Exit Billy, laughing right. There is a moment's pause after they are gone. Mrs. Hargraves darns socks energetically. Edward rearranges papers on table. Edward, I want to have a heart-to-heart talk with you. Yes, dear old darling. Sits on store at Mrs. Hargraves' feet. A parson's wife is peculiarly placed, and however much of a woman of the world she may be, she must not show it. I know. Your father, God bless him, is one of the best of men, but he is narrow-minded. He can't help it. He's told me so, often. Dear old dad. You, Edward, are growing like him, and I can't stand it. But... You are. You've been twenty-eight years in this world, and you've not even begun to understand women. Facing him. Edward, why don't you break out and... And what? Make an effort, flirt, kiss somebody, find some really nice girl who wants to... My dear old darling, what in heaven's name are you driving at? Can't you see your whole success as a novel writer depends on you understanding women more thoroughly? Women bore me, mother. Because you've only known the cathedral-town girl. Surely after being in London three years you might have, well, met some types. It's not easy to. Well, I... My dear boy, it's just cowardice. You've been afraid of the sex all your life. From a little boy I've noticed it. If only you'd been blessed with sisters and cheek. But dear, it's time you made an effort. It takes up so much time, mother. Nonsense! It's never waste of time, never. A woman's man can always succeed in the world. I can't flirt, I've tried. Billy bullied me into it at Cambridge. I tried to talk to a little girl in a restaurant he knew. She hated me, positively loathed me in five minutes. Poor Edward. The last time I made a terrific effort with some other girls, Billy knows. We took two down to Richmond in a boat. The most boring experience I've ever had. Conversation was all of the giggly sort. Were they pretty girls? Yes, I suppose so. In a way. In a fluffy, frilly way. Oh, my poor dear boy. No, it's no good, mother. It can't be done. You're the only woman I really care to talk to. Fiddlesticks! You know, Edward, I'm very much afraid you'll develop into a prig. And I can't stand it. Very sorry, darling. Then I suppose I'll have to. Poor, poor Edward. Edward, struck with an idea, goes to photo on Mantle and takes it up. I tell you what, darling. I'll ask Evangeline to marry me. Does that please you? It's not a bad idea. I shall tell her I don't love her. Don't you even like her? Yes, I like her. She's amiable. But you're such old friends. And Evangeline has always been fond of you. Has she? Yes, she's one of those girls who always make successful wives even when they merely marry for marrying's sake. She won't be obtrusive and she's awfully clean and tidy. Mrs. Hargraves looks at Edward with a doubtful smile. She'll accept you, Edward. Remember, even if you don't love her very much, you've got to be interested in her. Of course, of course. And? The telephone bell rings. Edward goes up to phone quickly. Dear me, what a start those things give me! Edward answering telephone. Look here, this is the seventh time today and I'm fed up with it. Fed up with it, fed! Who is it? Oh, by Jove. No, I didn't mean you. I'm awfully sorry. The mother came up to town today. Yes, and the governor. Who is it? Slowly up to Edward. Edward to his mother. Evangeline. Listening. What? Yes, do. When will you come? Tomorrow afternoon, right URT. Mrs. Hargraves up to Edward putting her hand over receiver. Why don't you propose to her now? Removes hand from receiver. Good lord, over the phone. To Evangeline. It's all right, I wasn't speaking to you. It was the mother. It will be much easier over the phone. Edward to Mrs. Hargraves. Will it? Yes, let me speak to her first. Edward speaking into phone. Don't ring off. The mother wants to talk to you. Yes, it's serious. Mrs. Hargraves taking up phone. How are you, dear? Pause. Oh, we had quite a nice journey. Pause. Yes, very well. With a little nervous cough. Evangeline, Edward's going to... It was a joke, mother. A joke. Seems very absurd over the phone, but Edward wants to ask you something. Joke, mother. Hands outstretched. Mrs. Hargraves slapping his hands down. Will you be quiet? Into phone. Yes, he's going to now. I do hope you'll say yes. Pause. But I do hope you'll say yes, someday. She motions to Edward to take receiver. Edward takes it nervously and stands uncomfortably, collecting his socks. I'll put your socks away. But I say, mother, you're not going to leave me. My dear boy, I can't propose for you. Exit Mrs. Hargraves to bedroom left. Are you there? Er, good. I'm glad you're there. What is what? Oh, I'm just going to tell you. Look here, Evangeline. I'm thinking of, well, I want to get married. Someday, get married. Married? M-A-R-R-I-E-D. And er. Well, you and I have known each other, I say. Shouting. You and I have known each other a long while. Am I what? Yes, I am proposing. Of course I'm an earnest. I think we'll just get on splendidly and... What's that? You knew? Yeah, I know, I'm shy. You will? Oh, thank you. I mean, thank you for keeping me out of suspense. Oh, yes. Thank you. Quite a relief. No, I don't love you just like that. No, no, no. I respect you most awfully, and we're just great friends, and I want you to... Oh, well, anyway, it's saddled, isn't it? Good. I quite appreciate the point. I do really. The modder will be delighted. Dear old modder. Yes, I feel sure the governor will be delighted. It was he who first suggested it. Greatly confused. Well, er. Goodbye, dear. What? Of course, I forgot. Oh, well, you'll choose it. I don't know what you like. Something with diamonds, I suppose. What? Oh, amethysts. Yes, I know, greenstones. Well, goodbye, dear. Tomorrow at four. No, I can't in the morning. Publishers in the morning. Yes, goodbye, dear. He puts up receiver. Phew. Mops his forehead with his handkerchief. Enter Mrs. Hargraves left. Well? Edward up at phone, mopping his head. She's done it. Done what? Said yes. Already? Well, I never. I... I was surprised, modder. Mrs. Hargraves, suppressing her real feelings. It just shows what a nice, sensible girl she is. She seemed to be expecting it. Oh, did she? Do they always expect? I mean, well, old darling, never mind, I've done it now. Oh, my dear, I wish you knew a little more. Head on his shoulder. Why, modder darling, why are you crying? Mrs. Hargraves, recovering. Never ask a woman that. Why now? Mrs. Hargraves dabbing her eyes. Oh, bless the boy, because she can't always tell you. Goes to set tee, picks up paper, and sits down. Edward looking round room. I suppose I'll have to clear out of this. It's a jolly little flat. It's not nearly big enough. Listening. What was that? What? Up to window. I thought I heard a noise. Up to Edward, they listen. It's nothing. Mrs. Hargraves, at window. I never feel safe with these fire escapes. You'd feel a lot more nervous without them. My dear boy, I may be old-fashioned, but I'd far rather risk being burnt than being burgled. Oh, nobody's going to burgle you, darling. Whistles a few notes of the wedding march. Oh, don't do that. It's so unlucky. I'm going to bed, Edward. You can see me up to our flat. I'll walk up. I hate lifts. Right, oh, mother. Mrs. Hargraves, at right door. You know, dear, I'm much happier about you. After all, Evangeline's better than no one. That's all right, dear mother. Exeunt. Mrs. Hargraves and Edward write. After they have gone, there is a pause. Then enter in quickly, window right with a scream. She comes down to center, finding no one in the room. She gives a little chuckle and looks around. She sees photos at desk, goes up and picks up the dean's photo. Father, dear sweet old person. Picks up photo of Mrs. Hargraves. Mother, she's just fine. Comes down center, sees Evangeline's photo on mantle, crosses to it and picks it up. Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prisms. Up to door, upper left, opens it a little way and then shuts it quickly. Author's bedroom. Here's Edward whistling off and exit Ann quickly through window. Enter Edward right. He comes slowly over to fireplace and picks up Evangeline's photo. Edward, looking round the room rather roofily. It's a jolly little flat. Enter Ann through window precisely as before with a long scream comes down center, putting photo down. What the? What's the matter? Ann acting for all she is worth. Oh, oh, oh my. With her skirts tightly tucked round her. What on earth's the matter? Oh, oh, I do hope it didn't get in. What was it? A mouse. A mouse? Is that all? I keep them. Ann makes a dash for the window. With a grin. White ones down in the country. Ann sighs with relief and turns from the window and comes down center slowly, looking at Edward. Curiously when Ann is well downstage. I say haven't I seen you before? You've heard me. Thinking. Let me see. Yes, six times today and you've rudely refused. Then you're. Ann nods her head. I'm the American interviewer. I'm a businesswoman. That's why I invented the mouse. You invented the mouse? So as to not shock you with my apparent unconventionality. Besides, it's your own fault. You've been very stubborn. Have I? I'm sorry. I was obliged to see you anyhow. On another matter. Goes up and puts book on table right. Oh, what? If you were to throw a bucket or two of water over me now, you'd probably recognize me. By Jove, you're not the girl who. Who made a most complete fool of herself at Henley yesterday. Coming over to Edward and impulsively holding out her hand. Thank you so much, Mr. Englishman. Oh, it was nothing. Nothing? Well, perhaps not for you. I mean, of course it was awful for you, but nothing to me. I must have looked cute on that end of the pole. You'll let me interview you, won't you? I can't help myself. How do you like my criticism? You. In the new I witness. Oh, you were the... Yes, have you ever been on a honeymoon? Good Lord, no. I'm glad. Why? Because there's some excuse for your ignorance. Oh, thank you. And up to Edward. But there's no excuse for your writing about a thing like a honeymoon if you've never tried it. An author often has to draw upon his imagination. Not about a beautiful, sacred thing like a honeymoon. It's vandalism. Sheer vandalism. A honeymoon is just as sacred and wonderful to me as a very beautiful baby, all just new and crimply. Suddenly invigorously backing Edward to left. Don't you ever dare to describe a very new baby until you've thoroughly mastered all of its loveliest points? No, no. Certainly not. You're just the sort of person who would try and do a silly thing like that. Remember, you've spoiled Hannah's honeymoon and you simply can't spoil her baby. Forcing Edward to fender where he sits. I shouldn't think of it. And looking at him curiously then coming to chair center. You're just exactly what I expected from the book. I'm glad I came up to your expectations. And sits on chair center. Why do you write so well and so badly? I love the book in parts. Thank you. Tell me, where on earth did you pick up that massive muddled information about women? Edward rises and goes up to her. The fact of the matter is, I'll tell you, I don't know enough about women. I don't want being told. It's so self-evident. It's how you've managed to live two years of maturity in such appalling ignorance that tickles me. Well, I did, that's all. Ever kissed a girl? I… I… No, you haven't. If you said you had, I wouldn't believe it. Why? Sits on arm of sati. Because? Rises gets book and returns to chair, turning over the pages of the book. You described a kiss. Yes, here it is, I marked the place. His lips touched her cheek for one brief moment, and he knew that he loved her. Raises her eyes to heaven, then looks at Edward. Well, what's wrong? Aren't you just an infant? Whoever heard of a kiss lasting a moment teaching a man a whole lifetime of love? I don't quite. Why don't you see it was a long kiss that was wanted. A real long, thrilling kiss, not a peck, as if he was saying good night to his sister. What do you suppose a peck on the cheek like that could possibly convey? I don't know. Anne, looking up at him whimsically. You know, I rather like you for it. Why? Anne, turning to the book. Never mind. Now look at this. You make your heroine recover from a whole rush of tears before she's had time to really enjoy half of the flood. But surely? A girl who'd turn on the tap like that wouldn't let up for at least ten or fifteen minutes. Your ignorance is simply appalling. Well, I'm learning, that's clear. Rises goes to Fender. Ever been engaged? No, but... Looks at photograph of Evangeline. Of course, you've never kissed a girl. Er, I am engaged. Turns to her. What? Rises puts book down. I got engaged tonight as a matter of fact. You got engaged tonight? It's a fact. But how on earth did you get through without kissing her? Er, telephone. Indicating telephone. Tell... oh my! Roars with laughter goes up and then downstage. What are you laughing at? Anne, stops laughing. You mean to say you lost just the sweetest, finest, loveliest moment of your life over an old telephone? Er, I'm very sorry, but I did. And the girl let you do it? I suppose it was my fault. Did on the spur of the moment? Exactly. She accepted you? Yes. What an awful future you've got to face. Why an awful future? A girl who'd say yes over a telephone unless she was dying or unless she... Oh my gracious, what's she like? She's... Suddenly. I'll fetch her, I'll fetch her. Getting photograph from Mantle. I thought so. There they are, all five. Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prisms. Poor boy, you'll never even write another bad novel. Where does she live? She's a... But why should I tell you? Takes photo from Anne. Oh, Mr. Englishman, don't start highbrow talk. Things are far too serious. Well, she's a cannon's daughter and I've known her all my life. She's awfully clean and tidy. She's been brought up in a cathedral town. That is some excuse, I suppose. It's narrowing. Do you love her? Edward, think in a moment. No, I can't say I do. Puts photo on Mantle. Then what in the world? Why did you? To tell you the honest truth, my dear old mother, who's the greatest woman I've ever met. Anne, running over to him impulsively. I like that. Go on. No, but she's really a very clever woman. And she's been going for me about the book. And, in fact, told me a lot you've just been rubbing in. So, to settle matters, I said I'd get engaged. Er, to learn. Er, I mean. Anne, clapping her hands and going over to Wright. Oh, aren't you just lovely? The true artist sacrifices his life to the cause of art. Well, to be quite honest, it's not. Yes, it is. A nice, funny old thing like you can't be allowed to do it. She'll never help you. How do you know? Don't I tell you a girl who'd say yes over a phone? A nasty, cold old phone. Can't understand anything. She's quite a nice girl. Nice? You don't want a nice girl. How do you mean? Oh, how you'd know the things if you'd been nearer nature. How I'd like to gallop you across a prairie. How you'd just love it. The wind in the breath of the long grass filling your body with life. And the spirit of the wilderness filling your heart and soul full of the passionate joy that makes you shout aloud, life, love, love, life. They are one, one. Woo! Edward dashing across to door Wright. I say look out. Loving by telephone. You. If it weren't so tragic, it'd be comic. Edward sitting in armchair Wright. I've done it now. And you'll stick to it? Of course. Oh, silly man. Sits on left end of setee. Come and sit over here. Edward hesitates and looks shy. Come and sit over here. Edward shuffles about, rises, comes right center and stops again. Come along. He sits by Anne. Moving up to him repeatedly three times. Now listen to your little American friend. Edward unfreezing. I'm listening. You're going to spoil your life if you married this cold, dry English girl that was just made to marry a curate. You can't imagine something of the girl who'd help you. Later on you'll be nervy and jerky over your work. Just when you're feeling your wings and want to do your great book. And then that insipid girl you married won't know quite how to fix things. And then you'll just want sympathy so badly. You'll cry. A man doesn't cry. Why, don't they? Some of the nicest men I've ever met could cry at any times like children. Laying her hand on his. You're very kind. Looking down at hand. And sympathetic. I'm glad you think so because I'm trying very hard to help you. It's getting rather late, isn't it? Don't spoil things. Mr. Englishman, let them soak in awhile. I love you to know there's just one woman you've met who's taught you just a little bit about woman. Would you mind telling me some more? Sniffing her hair. And after a little silent chuckle. Do you know something? No. Tell me. Sniffing. You'll never divulge it to a living soul if I tell you. Are you sure it's something that you should tell me? I feel that I can trust you. If you are quite sure that you won't regret telling me, do. You may trust me utterly. Sniffing. Well, it's disgraceful, but I've paid five and a half dollars a bottle for that perfume you're so rapturously inhaling from my hair. Edward, straightening up awkwardly. Really? As much as that? Anne, laughs merrily. Oh, Mr. Englishman, you're too good to be true. What's the girl's name? Evangeline. About the only romantic thing about her? What's your name? Anne, the least romantic thing about me. Anne, it's... No, it isn't. It's a fool's name, reminiscent of Old Maid Anne's. I don't think so. It is. What's your name? Edward. I guess we're not a very romantic combination in names. No. Listen. There is a long pause. You'd love to kiss me, wouldn't you? My dear girl, I mean... I'm not saying I'd let you. I didn't say I wanted to. Face close to his and looking straight at him. I won't. You mustn't. Putting her mouth close to his. Edward, without moving. How could I? Looks at Evangeline's picture awkwardly. Anne, laughing. How could you? Oh, my, Mr. Englishman, I like you. Edward suddenly looks at his watch and rises. What's the matter? Suppose my dear old dad comes in and finds you here? Oh, joy. Oh, rapture. I wonder what the model would say. I think she'd just love it. Rises. I believe you're right. Honestly, am I helping you? Or would you like me to go? I wouldn't like you to go, but you must. Why? Because, because hang it all. I, I... Anne, leading Edward to photo of Evangeline. What do you suppose she would think if she saw us? Evangeline. Evangeline nods her head solemnly. Heaven alone knows. I'll tell you. What? She'd just be ignorantly shocked. Ignorantly? A woman who'd say yes over a telephone would be ignorantly shocked. She'd jump to conclusion like a very active kangaroo. How much did you say that sent cost? You're not thinking of giving prunes, Annie, are you? No, no, not prunes. I mean Vanjie. I couldn't stand for that. I only thought I'd like to have some myself. I'll send you a bottle. Close to Edward. For a wedding present. Crosses up to window. I must go. Oh, I say don't go yet. I must. I want to write you up while you're still fresh in my mind. You're never going to. It's been a very interesting interview. Lift bell. Edward as he hears someone outside. Good Lord, there's my dad. Rushing over to door right and smiling. I just love to meet him. Edward at door right. But you, I mean, good heavens if he found you here. I say what the deuce look here do you mind going? And going to window. Of course. Edward going towards her hurriedly. No, no, he'll see you there from the staircase. And enjoying his panic. Well, in there. Going towards bedroom. Edward rushes towards her and stops center upstage. No, no, not there. That's my. My. Oh, that's all right. As she exits. I'll just make some notes on an English author's bedroom. Exit and left and her Dean right. Hello dad. I. My dear lad. I thought you'd gone to bed. I was just turning in. Your mother has told me. I couldn't possibly retire without. Taking his hand. Offering you my warmest congratulations. God bless you, my boy. Thank you, dad. Your dear mother and I are indeed thankful to Providence for this sudden fulfillment of our most earnest wishes. I thought you said there was plenty of time. Did I? Yes, to be sure. But we're grateful it has not been longer. Evangeline is a girl with a thousand. I mean in a thousand. She is. Her income with yours. But there we must not expatiate on the loaves and fishes. They are there. Suffice it to know they are there. Of course you know I don't love Evangeline in quite the conventional sense. My dear boy. Your mother and I fully appreciate your difficulties. Difficulties inherited possibly from myself. Between ourselves. Entirely between ourselves. I never loved your dear mother in quite the conventional sense. But look at the result. Edward smothering a laugh. Yes, dad. Harmony. Complete harmony. Based on common sense and daily intercourse. I wonder if... Intimacy. Intimacy, my dear boy. Intimacy is the soil for a common sense marriage. In intimacy the little seed of love takes root slowly but surely. In intimacy it blossoms forth like a grain of mustard seed. During this speech Edward makes repeated little attempts to stop the Dean. Edward sighs. Yes, dad. Hur. You said all that last Sunday. Oh, did I? Oh, there. There. We'll defer discussing the ethics of love and marriage until you become a little more intimate. Now I must go to bed. Pausing. Dear me, what a delicious perfume there is in the room. He sniffs. Delicious. Edward starts. Yes. I never noticed it before I went out. No, no, you wouldn't. It's... It's a new hair wash I'm trying. Dean, upstage right, delighted. Hair wash? My boy, I must try it. It's delicious. Could you let me have a little? I suffer slightly from dryness of the scalp. Dean goes toward bedroom. Edward jumps over set he and stops him. It's very bad for that. Bringing him down left. Ah, pity. Ah, pity. A great pity. Well, good night, my boy. Good night and God bless you and keep you from all temptation. On the word temptation Edward turns his head and gives a quick look towards bedroom left. Good night, Dad. Dean, by the door. You are quite sure that hair wash does induce dryness? Quite, Dad, quite. Pity, great pity. I must get your dear mother to use it first. Good night. Exit Dean right. Edward carefully shuts the door then sits center and mops his face with his handkerchief. Enter and left, notebook in hand, smilingly intent on what she has put down. Well? Edward, starting up and creeping over to door right. We must be careful. My Dad came in to congratulate me. Maybe. Maybe? I don't quite. Never mind. I've made some lovely copy out of your bedroom. Edward, staggered. Copy out of my bedroom? Notes on an English author's bedroom. Referring to notebook. Doesn't use a comb. Doesn't get his suit pressed often enough. Doesn't use hair wash. Boots very badly cleaned. Query, does he do it himself? Do you? Yes. I thought so. It's an art in my country. Indeed. Ann, referring to book. Doesn't wear sleeping suits. To Edward. You must look cute in that flannelette night shirt. Look here, I call this simply outrageous. So do I, artistically outrageous. Edward, almost speechless. I, I say. You'd wear sleeping suits if I married you. Don't be indelicate. Prunes probably won't mind. Well, I... Ann, closing book. It will work up nicely into a half column. You never mean to say you're going to publish all these details? You bet your dear life I am. What about? I mean, you. I say you won't put in the conversation we had. I trust I quite understand the meaning of true delicacy. I... I'm awfully sorry. Ann, coming right down to him and looking up in his face. Bay, be. Edward staring at her. By Jove, you're an amazing girl. Tell me, have I helped you? I'd love you to meet my mother. And I'd just love to meet her. Couldn't you come in tomorrow? Bolly! But how are you going to explain me? Hum. Hum. I'll tell you what. Sits on arm of chair center. Send up your card and ask for an interview. They'll think no end of it. Is she going to be there? Prunes and prisms? Yes, I'm afraid prunes. Jumping up. I mean prisms. I mean Vanjie will be here. I'd love to come. Crosses to mantle left and looks at Evangeline's photo. I'd just love to see the girl that you're not going to marry. Not going to marry. I'm going to help you right out of it. What do you mean? I simply refuse to allow it. Look here, you've struck an awful snag. A snag? Yes. You're just like a nice new white sail vessel that's never known a real tough breeze. Don't you see you're built for the storms and headwinds and the mastering of them? Not just the calm waters of a summer day? Here you are sailing out to sea and in sheer ignorance of how to navigate your own course, you've hit a snag. The little tug American Anne is going to tow you off right into harbour. She takes hold of Edward's two hands and pulls him round and down right. Yes, but why do you want to do this? Taking away his hands and backing a step. Anne to herself aloud. Shall I tell him? Yes. No, perhaps I'd better not. Goes upstage to window, gets on to sea and out on balcony. Edward up to her. But I want to know. Anne on balcony. Oh, do you? Yes. You'd really like to know? Hands each side of window. Please. Well, maybe. Yes, maybe. Maybe I'll marry you myself. Anne disappears quickly, laughing to right. Edward rushes up to window and leans far out looking after her. Curtain. End of Act 1. Act 2 of Anne by Letchmere Whirl. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act 2. Scene. Same as Act 1. An afternoon tea table set for tea stands center in front of armchair. Fire lighted. At rise of Curtain the stage is empty. Enter Edward right. He comes to set tea with parcel and takes off hat and gloves. Opens parcel, takes out pajamas, tries them on, opens bottle of hair wash, shakes them on hand and compares it with cushion. Rises, looks everywhere for comb and at last finds it in his inner coat pocket, shakes hair wash on hair, then goes to fireplace and elaborately parts hair, then gathers things up and goes off left. Returns immediately and comes to desk, gets duster and dusts boots, sees five cups on table, counts on his fingers, then goes to bookcase and gets extra cup, dusts it with same duster. Sees what he is doing is horrified, takes cup back to bookcase and changes it for another, gets kettle from window and puts it on hog. Takes photo of evangeline, dusts it, puts it back, sits on set tea, smells cushion, looks at photo, puts his hat on and exits right. Exits Edward right. Enter Anne from window with bundle. She puts things on armchair, takes slippers up and puts them under chair right, blouse on chair left of desk, stockings under cushion right of set tea, night dress under cushion left of set tea, takes candy from one of the dishes and pops it in her mouth. I guess that will about do it, maybe. Exits Anne by window right. Enter Billy and Edward right. Billy goes over to left center. Jolly glad you've turned up. Why didn't you look in last night? Well I saw your dad to the door and then I bolted back to make some rough sketches. Sniffs the air. They ought to be here soon. Billy sniffing. What the? I say who's been... can you smell something? Smell? Smell what? Scent. Ripping could scent too. Edward sniffing. Now you mention it. I... I think I do. Duster to nose. Billy indicates duster. Edward throws it away with an exclamation of disgust. I say Teddy, who's been paying you a visit? Paying me a visit? You don't mean to say you've done it? Done what? Edward, I believe you're a dark horse after all. Edward, rather confused. Don't be an ass. Crossing to fireplace. Billy tracking scent to setee. What? Warmer? Warmer? Teddy, she's been sitting here. Sitting on setee. Look here old man, I'll tell you. But for heaven's sake keep it to yourself. Billy grinning. Now we're talking. Last night after you were gone I proposed to... er... Proposed? Who too? Edward, taking up photo. I proposed to Evangeline. Evangeline? How did she turn up? Well, the fact of the matter is I did it over the telephone. You would. And she accepted me. So do she did. The modder was delighted. Dear old modder. Yes, but what I want to know is when did the scent come in? Later. Later? With a grin. Catherine round. After I'd seen the modder upstairs to her flat I walked in here and found... The girl with the scent. Exactly. Immense. She came through the window. Billy, astounded, looks round at window right. What? From the next flat along the fire escape. And you sent her back home again like a good little boy? No, I dolly well didn't. You didn't. Springs up and grasps Edward's hand with fervor. Edward, old man, my warmest and sincerest congratulations. Shaking hands vigorously. Don't be an ass. She was only a mad American, a newspaper reporter. And incidentally the girl I lugged out of the water at Henley. What? That topping little girl, a newspaper reporter? I suppose it accounts for her eccentric behavior. Like dear old chap, the more attractive the girl, the more eccentric can she become to the unsophisticated male mind. Can she? Goes up to desk at back center, gets golf club and sandpaper. Yes. It's all the outcome of habit. A woman is a habit. She may be a bad habit or a good habit. But she's always a habit. Eh? Lucky devil, what a delightful lot of things you've got to learn about the habit. Edward, polishing golf stick. I wished to goodness I'd started investigations earlier in life. I found her very instructive. No old man, not instructive. Never apply the term instructive to a woman nowadays. Why not? Because my dear old chap, the only term to apply to a woman nowadays is destructive or constructive or obstructive. But never instructive. However, you found little stars and stripes interesting. She was very interesting. And I asked her to tea to meet the mother. Oh, did you? Edward trying to explain things away. Yes, I thought I ought to be polite. Of course, of course. I say, have you told Evangeline about this? Good lord, no. She'd never understand. I mean, not yet. Edward, I'm sure you are a dark horse after all. Oh, rot. Now remember, I shall pretend not to know her, except as an interviewer. Of course, of course. And I wish to goodness you wouldn't try to imply anything that isn't. I mean that doesn't. Doesn't. Don't stutter old man, you're only giving yourself away. Anything that isn't suggested by one of the most delicate and expensive perfumes on the market. Oh, shut up. I say, Teddy, have you seen Evangeline since she accepted you? No, she's coming to tea this afternoon. I couldn't see her this morning. Busy this morning. Publishers this morning. Oh, she's coming to tea this afternoon. And the little American girl is coming to tea this afternoon. Well, of course, I quite see I'm going to have the afternoon of my life. Rises and goes to fireplace, stands with back to fire laughing. A knock at the door. There she is, I expect. Yes, there she is. Er, which one? Which one? Oh, I'll see. Edward goes to door right, and opens it, and to Evangeline. She stands just inside door. Oh, how do you do? How do you do? To Billy. How do you do? Oh, I think I'm too early. Crosses front of Edward to right-center. No, no, not at all. Billy's here to chaperone us. Oh, perhaps I'd better wait outside for Mrs. Hallgraves. Billy to Evangeline, rather nervously, obviously afraid of her. It's all right, Mrs. Lipscomb. I'm here, and you're here, and er, we're all there, and er, I mean, we're all here. I'll just snip up and let Mrs. Hallgraves know you are here. How do you do again? Shakes hands with Evangeline and crosses her, so that he is between her and Edward. He notices Edward and suddenly remembers his manners. Oh, I'm so sorry. Quite forgot, hearty congratulations, and many happy returns, and Merry Christmas! Exit Billy, pushed out by Edward, quickly right. Evangeline goes over to left-center. Oh, won't you sit down? Evangeline sits on satis. Is Father well? Papa is quite well, thank you. Thank you. Won't you take off your er, funny little pale blue waistcoat? No thanks. It's a little chilly for summer. Chilly? Oh, yes, yes, that's why I had a fire. Crosses to window up left, and shuts it. There. Evangeline after sniffing cushion. How exceedingly disgusting. Edward? Yes, dear heart. Coming down from window to just above satis. Do you like scent, Edward? Yes, no. Yes, yes, no. I mean, yes, some scent. Down to back of tea-table. I don't like scent, Edward. You'd better know it at once. Yes, yes, of course. Er, I'll make a note of it. There is a very awkward pause. I suppose you're very shy now. Edward, with slight nervous laugh and absently picking up teaspoon from table. Well, you see, it's the first occasion, and the first occasion is always a trifle tricky. Evangeline deliberately putting up veil. Don't you think you ought to kiss me? Edward, drop spoon into tray. It's usual, isn't it? Oh, yes, of course, I mean to, but... Comes round front of tea-table and sits beside Evangeline. It's usual when people are engaged, isn't it? Yes. Evangeline turns her head round and puts her mouth to Edward, who, with one finger on her cheek, pushes her head gently round again. For the present, I think. Kisses her. For the present. Thank you. Vigorously polishes golf-stick. Evangeline hand on his to stop him. I'm so glad you've been honest with me. That's really why I accepted you. You know I don't believe in love. I mean, not the silly sort one reads about. We've discussed it so often. Your book was wrong in places about women, but you're perfectly right. I'm convinced in the love scenes. Everybody thinks that is just where the book is weak. Now last night, Anne... ...pulls himself up in confusion, busy with emery paper and candy. I like the calm, sensible way you make your heroin behave. I think I may have helped you without your knowing it. Perhaps you have. Busy with golf-stick. Evangeline busy with hand. I think it was so clever of you to write about a honeymoon, as you did, and that passage about an engagement. His lips touched her cheek for one brief moment. Touched her own cheek where Edward has kissed her. So true. Do you think so? It shows me so clearly that you have genius. Genius? Oh, yes. Of course, genius. Genius. Rather concededly, busy with golf-stick. Evangeline stopping him. Edward, don't do that. Yes, a genius can always write brilliantly, even in cold blood, on any subject. However inexperienced he happens to be, I think it was wonderful how you got it right. Edward turning round to her. But was it right? Right? Of course it was. How on earth do you know? Oh, well, I... I... Of course, I mean it sounded right. Well, how did you know? Oh, I made it all up. I'm glad. Glad, why? Because if I'd thought that this had been from an actual experience, I might have been jealous. Oh, well, you. I don't think you have any cause, dear one. It has always seemed to me that a really good woman should be as jealous of a man's past as of his future. Quite so. A good wife should always be jealous, Edward. Seems a trifle early Victorian, don't it? Certainly not. I was always brought up to believe that real love should never be free from jealousy. And I'd begun to hope it was free from everything save love. I hope you aren't becoming sentimental. I wonder if you know what sentiment means. Voices heard off right. Ah, there's the modern. Oh, I am so glad. Enter Mrs. Hargrave's right, followed by the Dean and Billy. My dear boy, I'm afraid we're late. Crosses left center to Evangeline. My child, I must apologize. Kisses her. You've made us so happy. Crosses to set tee. I'm so glad. Dean, center to Evangeline. My dear, God bless you. I'm overjoyed think my son has such a suitable help meet. A roof to any boaz. Sits in chair, left corner. Oh, thank you so much. Oh, now we're all merry and bright. Now perhaps Edward will be able to write about women. I think he does, Mr. Lloyd. Sits on set tee, right end. Billy, much subdued, turns up, stage right, almost immediately afterwards sitting right. But you'll teach him many things a nice girl alone can teach. They all settle themselves as they talk. Dean and chair down left, Mrs. Hargrave's on the set tee. Evangeline by her side, Billy and chair right. I do trust your dear father will be delighted. I'm sure of it. Aunt was so pleased when I told her last night. Was she? To change the subject. Isn't that kettle boiling? I'm dying for tea. Edward going to fireplace with teapot. I think it is. To Evangeline. Won't you pour it out, dear one? Mrs. Hargrave's ought to do that. Billy discovers Aunt's slippers under his chair and picks them up. My dear, I simply loathe pouring out tea. A parson's wife invariably does. Billy coming down right with slippers. Hello. Who's been leaving their slippers about? There are girls. Yes, aren't they? Evangeline looks witheringly at Billy, then takes one slipper from him and passes it to Mrs. Hargrave's, then takes the other slipper. So they are. How extraordinary. Edward at fireplace with kettle to Mrs. Hargrave's. I expect they're yours, old darling. He has his back to them as he bends to pour water into kettle. They don't appear to be your size, my dear. No, they certainly are not my slippers. But who on earth could they be if they're not yours, mother? Brings teapot and kettle in front to tea-table centre. My dear boy, how on earth can I tell you? Sits. A very small foot, too. Edward crosses to Dean left, Dean taking the other. Very small indeed. Very, very small indeed. Almost Chinese. Edward takes one slipper from Dean and crosses right centre and stands left of Billy. No. American. Stands above tea-table and pours out tea. Edward starts. I know. Perhaps the charlady left them. Knock outside right door. I wonder who that is. Haven't the least idea, old chap? Perhaps it's the owner of the slippers. Bursts out laughing and goes up to window. Don't be an ass, Bill. I'll see, Dad. I'll see. Edward opens door right and enters Anne. She is very smartly dressed. She pretends not to know Edward. Anne just inside door. Are these Mr. Edward Hargaver's chambers? Yes, I am Hargraves. The author of Hannah's honeymoon? Mrs. Hargraves places shoe on settee. Yes. I'm an American newspaper woman and I just came to write you up. I wonder if you'd be so kind as to grant me an interview. Oh, won't you come in? Indicating room with kettle on left hand, show and right hand. Oh, but I see you have a party. Perhaps I'd better come again. We shall be delighted, shan't we, Mater? Mrs. Hargraves rising. Do come in, Miss. Advances center. Anneing. Comes right center and shakes hands with Mrs. Hargraves. Billy snatches shoe from Edward and puts it away at back. I'm really pleased to meet the mother of so great an author. You're very kind, Miss. Advances. This is my husband. Anne goes over left to the dean. Charmed, my dear young lady, to make your acquaintance. My son is indeed honored. Shakes hands. This is my future daughter-in-law, Miss. Slipscomb. Anne to Evangeline. How very interesting. Aren't you just proud of him? Shaking hands with Evangeline very vigorously and with both hands. Evangeline rather haughtily in taking her hands away. Why, of course. Sits and chairs center. Edward bringing Billy by arm round to center. This is my old pal, Billy. Black and white artist. You must write him up. Spilling water from kettle. Very pleased to know you, Mr. Billy. They shake hands. Now, Miss Anning, I'm sure you'd like some tea before. I just love it. To Billy. I'm crazy about your English tea habit. Billy goes to right of tea table. Evangeline gives him cup of tea for dean. Also indicates cake stand. Billy takes tea to dean. Do sit down. Mrs. Hargrave sits left end of set tea. Anne sits right end. Anne to Evangeline. Oh, what am I sitting on? A real American shoe by the looks of it. Is it? We were wondering. The fact is, Miss Anning, a most curious thing happened just before... To Edward, who hands her tea. Thank you, son. A most curious thing happened before... Billy hands her cake. No, thank you, Mr. Lloyd. Billy retires with cake stand. As I was saying, a most curious... Excuse me, mother. Miss Anning, one. Two. Three, please. That shoe is a mystery. Really? You don't say so. Yes, we found a pair of them here this... Miss Anning, cake, bread, butter. Billy, Billy. Billy runs round left with cake stand. No, thank you. Billy retires crushed. I think I'd just like a candy. Edward looks at Anne inquiringly. A sweet. Edward hands plate of sweets. I'm so sorry. I interrupted you. These shoes were found here in my son's rooms, and there's no explaining their presence. Indeed. Now that's very interesting. It will make a great headline. A headline? A headline? I don't understand. Edward buy tea table, meaningly. You wouldn't be so cruel, Miss Anning. It would just sell the book like anything, Mr. Hargraves. Dean, putting cup down on Fender. Sell the book? How could the slipper sell a book? Taking Mrs. Hargraves' cup and putting it down on Fender. Why, yes, interviewer finds English author perplexed. Who left her American footwear behind? You wouldn't be so vulgar. Vulgar? My dear Miss Lipscomb, why vulgar? There's nothing vulgar in a slipper. I think, Miss Anning, it might be as well if you suppressed this little incident. Of course. I will, if you like. To Edward. But how did they get here, Mr. Hargraves? Giving her cup to Edward. I can't think. I can't think. Stan sent her drinking from Anne's cup. It's quite a predicament, a modern Cinderella and her slippers. During the preceding speech, Evangeline has put her cup down and rearranged the cushions. In doing so, she now unearths the lace blouse. What am I crushing? Anne taking blouse and holding it up. Just the loveliest skirt waste in the world. Good heavens. Takes blouse from Anne. Dean taking blouse from Mrs. Hargraves. God bless my soul. What in heaven's name? It's a woman's blouse. Rising and going right center. It's too cunning for anything. Edward, you look stopping in it. Edward, what does it mean? It's really very, very extraordinary. Very? My dear boy. You haven't been buying Evangeline's true soul. Billy bursts out laughing. Of course not, modern. I never was so tempted in all of my life. Everybody looks at her. Mrs. Hargraves laughs softly. Tape did? Tape did? What do you mean? Just think of the copy I can't use. It's worth at least $250. Miss Anning, I can't see any joke in this at all. You appear to forget that I am engaged to Mr. Hargraves. I wish I could forget it when I think all of the copy just throwing itself at me. Dan picks up cushion and discloses stockings, which Mrs. Hargraves picks up. By Joe of another find. Mrs. Hargraves collapsing into uncontrollable mirth. My dear Edward, an enemy has done this. But what are they? Take stockings from Mrs. Hargraves. What on earth? They're stockings. Looks like a real bully pair of French silk. Edward stands choking. Evangeline to Billy. If you did this as a practical joke, Mr. Lloyd, let me tell you it's exceedingly horrid of you. Oh, I say, do I look as if I could? On your honor, Billy. I've never seen such things before. Explodes with laughter. Turns up a little, then down again. Evangeline and Mrs. Hargraves at window. Say, this is just too cute for anything. Do you know the situation alone, cabled in a dozen words to the Associated Press, would work up into a corking three-column story? Personally, I think this beyond a joke, Madam. That this feminine, I think one might be right in describing this as intimate feminine attire, has been discovered in my son's room is... going up behind Satee. Edward, I must really, in common decency... Anne moves over to left end of Satee. Don't ask him to explain. It's absolutely outrageous. Outrageous! I think if I were engaged to a man, Miss Lipscomb, I should feel a bit like that myself. Edward, have you no idea where these things came from? Anne places cushion behind her back, disclosing nighty. No reasonable explanation of their appearances? None at all. Anne, deliberately, without looking at it, moves nightdress farther down onto seat. Well, my dear boy, don't look so fearfully tragic. It's just some foolish joke. Joke? Anne unearthing the nightdress and showing it. My! Picture. Dean holds nightdress by one end, and by the other, Edward sinks into chair-center. Edward, you know what that is? Dean taking it from Anne. It appears to be. It's a very lovely one. Now, a nighty like that would cost at least $35. Well, I must say goodbye, Mrs. Hargraves. Holding out her hand to Mrs. Hargraves. My dear Evangeline, don't be ridiculous. Don't go. I'm very, very sorry. But it's quite impossible for me to... to... To Edward. Oh, can't you see? Edward rises. But, hang it all. It isn't mine. I mean, I don't know where. Well, surely you have some theory. This garment is... Well, it is... Billy to Anne. What's your theory in this, Anne? Well, as a stranger, I don't know that I ought to say anything. But it seems to me to be a very big tragedy for you, Mr. Hargraves. Oh, it's just some feeble joke. Feeble, feeble. Turns up to window. I can sound no more. Edward has behaved abominably. Will you see me home? Billy, going up to Evangeline. Well, I think I go your way. Evangeline, turning on him furiously. Will you kindly mind your own business? Perhaps a right. Exit Billy, quickly right. Oh, my dear. I quite understand. Coming down to right corner with Evangeline. Busy with nightdress. Evangeline. Coming down center. Don't dare to say where to me. I couldn't bear it. Evangeline, look here, I... Mrs. Hargraves coming down right center, significantly. Edward, I wouldn't. Goodbye, Mrs. Hargraves. Goodbye, Miss Anning. I trust you will at least keep my name out of even an American paper. I'll do my very best, Miss Lipscomb, but it's a fearful temptation. Thank you. Need we be so serious about a thing like this? My dear, much as I regret it, I must side with Evangeline until some... Puts nightdress on table behind him. I can only trust your kindness to prevent this becoming public property. Certainly, if you wish it. Dad, do you believe this of me? The Dean glares at Edward. He does, Edward. A good man always does. The Dean looks at her. I said it, Samuel. A good man always does. The Dean is about to protest. Mrs. Hargraves stops him. And the better the man, the worse he thinks. Well, upon my word. Come, my dear. Excellent Dean and Evangeline, right. Edward to his mother. Mother, you don't think. Oh, my dear boy, knowing you as long as I have, how could I think? Edward, give Miss Anning some more tea. Edward goes up and puts golf-stick in back. To Ann. And while you're interviewing my son, I'll just take these incriminating garments to my room. Edward comes down behind center to Fender and starts as if she was going to say something. Mr. Hargraves, are you really in a fit condition to be interviewed? Of course he is. I hope you'll call on me again. And Miss Anning, don't tell him his novel is wonderful because it isn't. Goodbye. Mrs. Hargraves, may I say just how much I like you? Thank you. Not one mother in a thousand would have behaved like you did. Miss Anning, I've been a parson's wife since the flood, but I'm still a woman of the world. Going to door right. Don't forget I want you to call on me. At door. I'm eighty-seven up above. Exit Mrs. Hargraves, door right. A pause Edward is looking angrily into fire and looks at him with mock apprehension. Guess you'll never want another American girl at your tea parties again. Edward, turning. Your conduct is past criticism. Ann runs over to Chesterfield and sits on back, right end, with feet on the seat. Oh, Mr. Englishman, do please get really angry. I am angry. Very angry. I really don't wonder. To think that you of all women could stoop to do a... Am I never to be forgiven? Hands together. You've shocked Evangeline. Wasn't it better for her to be shocked now than afterwards? A nice, well-spoken little girl like that. Oh, it's abominable. Ann clapping her hands. Mr. Englishman, you're just lovely when your beautiful pride has been injured. What do you mean? You didn't mind last night about Evangeline when... When you were sitting right here. Last night. I was mad last night. Mad. Mad. When daylight dawns and everything becomes unromantic, we just become self-conscious and afraid. Don't we, Mr. Englishman? Getting off sofa. Look here. Marching over to Ann, who sits on chair down left. It's all jolly fine arguing, but those... Those things of yours are extremely difficult to explain away. That's why I chose them. What am I to do? What in Heaven's name am I to do? Why do anything? Your moral character is unassailable. You leave my morals out of it. Why try to explain them anyway? But that won't help Evangeline. She'll never believe. Didn't I tell you she'd be ignorantally shocked? You can't deny she had some reason. Your mother only laughed. Edward turns and stares at her. So she did. And I thought your mother was about the only person who counted. Oh, it's no good arguing. You've got me into a hole. And got you out of another one. The last night you talked a lot of... I think you're very ungrateful. I'm not ungrateful. I've lost a pair of silk stockings. A beautiful shirt waist, a pair of lovely bedroom slippers, and a perfectly adorable... Coming over left center close to Edward. Don't mention it. I forbid you to mention it. Why? Everyone wears one, even you. And a flannelette at that. I don't. I bought a pair of silk pajamas this afternoon. Pink or blue? It's beside the point. Not to mention that splendid copy I can't use. I believe you did it just for the sake of copy. Mr. Englishman, don't be unkind. Edward, coming up to her. I wish I'd never seen you. Whoever heard of a girl coming into a man's family over the fire escape and causing such a lot of trouble? Why don't you tell them the things belong to me? You know I can't. Why? Why? Why? Oh, don't be silly. Suppose I tell them. Now look here. You jolly well leave things alone. They're bad enough as they are. Very well. But it's bad luck I can't get back the... Edward gives her look. The thing you don't like mentioned. It'll spoil the set. Set? Well, you'll have to wear odd ones. It's your own fault. I think I'll be going. Marches up to window right. No, you don't. Edward walks quickly up to Anne, seizes her by left wrist and drags her well down right center. Then swings her round so that they are quite close, face to face. And look here, I... You're not going to say you never want to see me again? That's precisely what I was going to say. Anne puts her face close up to his. Precisely. Going left center. Anne going over close to him. He has his back to her. Don't you want a five and a half dollar bottle of that perfume? No. Oh, very well. Goodbye. Goodbye. Anne walks across to door right, slams door hard, remaining just inside. Edward's thighs and crosses slowly to left. Anne follows on tiptoe. Anne, suddenly pushing Edward in the back. Do you know something? Edward jumps round, Anne springs and sets tea. Edward rushes up to her. She holds cushion in front of her. No, I don't want to hear anything more. Then you'll just have to. Oh, well, if I must, I must. Listen, tonight you'll want to see me more than you've ever wanted to see anyone before in your life. I shall do nothing of the sort. You'll sit in this lovely old sofa, and you'll see me in the fire, and you'll get a whiff of that five and a half dollar cent, and you'll just feel mad. Have you finished? Warn curtain. No, you'll sit here just where we sat, and you'll hate yourself for being a coward, and you'll try to think of Evangeline, and you won't be able to because she's unthinkable, and you'll get fridged here and fridged here than just anything, and in the morning you'll have big purple indigo blues, and your mother will laugh at you, and you'll just be the most miserable limp understudy of your whole magnificent moral self, and it will do you all the good in the world, and later on you'll tell me I was right. I shan't. I shall never tell you anything again. Oh, yes, you will. Get soft, Chesterfield, and comes down to Edward. A man always tells that sort of thing to the girl he's going to marry. Edward, turning round and going towards her a step. What do you mean? Nothing. Goodbye. Waves her hand up to window, then stops and turns and comes down center. No, after successfully introducing herself into clerical English family, propriety demands of American Anne conventional exit through the door. Exit and quickly, right. Edward collapses on Chesterfield, looking after her. Curtain. End of act two.