Chapter 3
act three the scene is that of the preceding act it is night-time without the lake sparkles under a full moon while the lights of bellagio cluster brightly at the water's edge within the room there is an air of preparation for the departure of its tenant the druggats are removed and the statuary curtains candelabra and much of the furniture are in holland wrappers one of the settees is pushed against the wall on the left some footstools are piled upon it and between the middle window and the further window are two chairs the one on top of the other two bottles of champagne and some glasses are upon the table on which breakfast was served in the previous act on the left of this table is the other settee on its right a chair The writing table now stands out in the left centre of the room, facing the lower and middle windows.
A chair is before it and near at hand is a wooden packing case. The lid of the packing case is open and the guitar and a quantity of books and music are seen to have been carelessly thrown in. The birds have disappeared from the balcony. A single birdcage, covered with bays, stands upon one of the cabinets. the room is lighted by oil lamps fanny sylvain with a set face deep in thought is seated upon the settee in the centre of the room she is in semi-toilette and has a lace scarf upon her shoulders
there is the faint sound of distant music the double doors open and croaker harrington in travelling dress is shown in by the man's servant croaker to the man Please let Mrs. Bellamy know that I have just arrived. Mr. Arrington, yes, sir? The servant withdraws, closing the doors. Fanny rises and shakes hands with Croker heartily.
Ah! My dear Fanny. Dear Croker, have you had a pleasant journey? Croker with a wry face. Pleasant.
How is London? Croker placing his hat upon the writing table and taking off his gloves. Crowded. What, in the first week of October? Oh, under normal conditions, I dare say I should have regarded it as a deserted village.
But when a man is down and desires to hide his head... The pavement sprouts acquaintances. Precisely. Fanny laying a hand upon his arm. No good news, then.
Croker shaking his head. I might have spared myself the trouble. You undertook it for our sakes as well as for your own. I meant no good news for yourself. We know our fate.
You do? We have been in communication with the people who are engaged in examining the affairs of the wretched Rudrov. With a gesture of despair. Oh, it is awful. Croker putting his gloves in his hat as an excuse for turning away.
I am glad it doesn't fall to my lot to break the worst to you. I've been robbed of every shilling, Croker. And I? All gone, every penny. Every cent, red or otherwise.
Where is that beast? Archie? Pfft! He's known to have reached America. What has America done?
Poor devil. Devil? It was the collapse of this so-called universal finance corporation that overwhelmed him, it appears. He was deep in it. And we thought him a solid, cautious creature.
We were gulls. At the end, he made a desperate effort to save the concern, I hear. And with her money. Fanny clenching her hands. Oh.
Where was he last seen? At a theatre, complaining of the quality of the music played during an entreact. If he'd only had the common decency to shoot himself. Good heavens, and I'm thirty, Croker. I'm nearly forty.
And I'm losing my looks. And I'm not. You, you, you foolish. Hiding her face upon his shoulder for a moment, then lifting her head cheerily and brushing her tears away.
Excuse me for compromising you. You'll take your coat off. She will be down in a few minutes. Croker depositing his coat and hat upon the settee on the left. Have you formed any plans yet?
Ori and I go up to Scotland for a month or so, to relations, to enable us to look round as they express it. Perhaps you can explain the process of looking round in the midst of a circle of solemn relatives. Croker returning to her. Ah, you talk in a low key and play homer in the evening and get to bed early.
Ha! And you? One of the men I butted into in town thinks I would make an ideal secretary for a new club about to be started in Piccadilly. What is an ideal club secretary? "'A fellow who sees that the members have every opportunity for grumbling and no cause.' "'The music ceases.
He goes to the further window which is open and looks out.' "'Thank goodness that wretched band is silent.' "'Your musical taste is as fastidious as Mr. Kane's.' "'Sitting in the chair by the writing table.' "'Fancy, for the remainder of one's life, if one lives to be a hundred,
Moonlight, a still luscious evening, the sound of music, always to remind one of ruin. Croker coming to her and leaning over her chair softly. Fanny? Yes? How does she bear it?
Splendidly. Ah. I've loved her, as you know, for years intensely, but I am proud of her now. Her whole nature seems to have expanded, Croker, become greater, nobler. The capacity was there. It only needed this.
Luckily she doesn't come off quite as deplorably as you and I. Our poor divinity. Her new man of business believes he'll manage to salvage about a hundred and fifty a year for her out of the wreck. Croker wincing. Tis, I hoped.
It would have been more, but it turns out that she's heavily in debt, dear thing. He never curbed her. Cain? Not he. Tempted her, I suspect. Starting up furiously. Profess to be discharging her bills while he was embezzling the money, I shouldn't wonder.
No, no. Give the devil his due. Fanny, her fingers twitching. If I could, if I could. calming herself as she walks about the room and so the lease of her house in London
her pictures and furniture jewels, plate they all have to be thrown into the pot and she's left with the few louis she has in her portemonnaie
and the prospect of this miserable hundred and fifty a year but her friend she won't accept a sou from a living soul she declares
setting herself upon the settee in the centre that's where she's so fine She will live upon three paltry pounds a week. She! Croker standing beside her with a confident smile. Ah, for the present.
But, my dear Fanny, one isn't resigning oneself to the secretaryship of a Piccadilly club for the rest of existence. Going to the back of the settee and bending over it, speaking almost into her ear. I, too, intend to look round. And by and by, you and she, my playmates, companions with me in this mud-puddle game of life, in which we have all got seriously splashed— Ah, stop. Of course you've been away. You haven't heard.
What? She has definitely engaged herself to young Trenwith. Croker standing upright. Ah. At a moment when a man with even a moderate position in the world.
But there, she's given her heart to him, and she's full of pluck. God bless her. The distant music is heard again. God bless them both. He's a nice chap, and a fortunate one.
Sitting in the chair which is behind her, his elbow on the table, his hand shading his face. Capital, capital. struck by his tone she glances at him and observes his attitude after a slight pause she rises and moves away to the open window where she stands looking into the distance as you say mr trannwith is favoured of fortune but it isn't to be quite yet a while no not for two or three years i gather he goes out to a ranch in british columbia and comes back to fetch her when he has succeeded in making a home for her he starts for london directly at something before six to-morrow morning pointing to the champagne and glasses upon the table look you have returned in time to drink the boy's health croker rising cheerfully excellent i'll drain my last bumper of champagne to him preparatory to take into club porter
and she during his absence observing the condition of the room she vacates the villa prigna at once evidently she goes into a humble little pension at tremezzo for a while croaker partially suppressing a groan Fanny coming to him. Yes, she also dates her new life practically from tomorrow. I've been upstairs with her, helping her to pack the few plain gowns she's retaining out of her stock.
Why has her made? Beaumont her maid went a week ago. Croker sinks upon the settee, burying his head in his hands. Oh, my dear man, don't groan.
Our divinity. To see her on her knees among her trunks with such a sweet, earnest, helpless, confident look. It's one of the prettiest sights imaginable. Maldonado's voice is heard lightly humming,
an accompaniment to the air played by the band. Fanny listening. There's Frederick. Croker looking up. Frederick?
Maldonado. Oh, is he still here? Yes, he has been so brotherly and sympathetic to us women. She goes to the window and meets Maldonado. Maldonado is in evening dress and is smoking. Notwithstanding the changes in his appearance, suggested by Fanny in the previous act, he appears to be in excellent spirits.
Good evening, Frederick. Maldonado on the balcony. What a perfect night, eh? I have bestowed a few extra francs upon those fellows playing outside the Bellevue. We will celebrate our young friend's leave-taking with musical honours. Here's Croker.
Maldonado entering the room. The traveller returned. Coming to Croker. My dear boy. Croker shaking hands with him, without rising.
Hello, Freddy. I am still kicking my heels about the verge of this monotonous pond. observing that Fanny has gone out upon the balcony, lowering his voice. One's heart bleeds for these ladies, and yet they both, with the characteristic obstinacy of their sex, decline to avail themselves of my poor services.
How goes it? Your visit to London has not proved too satisfactory. Quite the reverse. Oh, except that I'm likely to take the secretaryship of the new club Bulkley is promoting. No. Hope you'll come in. Maldonado with a protesting shrug. My dear good Crocker, we are pals of some years standing, you and I. Need I say more? Deuce take Bulkley and his club.
Crocker rising. Freddy Pish, not a word Pray write me a line Thanks, old man
I haven't reached that stage yet Never shall, I trust Gripping Maldonado's hand But thanks, old man Fanny returns to the room
The music ceases Maldonado Gently shaking Croker by the shoulder Confound you You are as perverse as our fair friends
What? Breaking off upon perceiving Fanny and walking away. I observe the banquet is prepared, my dear Fanny. Throwing his hat upon the writing table. Where are the principal figures?
I think I've just seen Mr. Trenwith in the garden. Oh, is he meditating a parting serenade under Iris's window? Imitating the playing of a guitar. Rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, tum, tum He touches the guitar most gracefully
Fanny sitting at the table on the right The mandolins, don't be unfeeling, Frederick Unfeeling? I? When I'm here to join in the general tearful farewell To Croker
You've heard the great news? Croker again seated upon the settee Just heard it. Maldonado, carelessly examining the photograph of Lawrence, which he takes from the writing table. And haven't I pledged myself to rise at an unconscionably early hour tomorrow morning,
in order that I may escort this lucky young gentleman to the steamboat, and report upon the final incidents of his departure? You'll assist, Croker? With pleasure. No, upon second thoughts, I decline to share the privilege.
I hold the commission direct from Iris, and I claim the right of executing it unaccompanied. Lawrence wearing a suit of blue serge appears upon the balcony. Maldonado laying the photograph aside. Yes, here is the hero of the occasion. We are talking about you, my dear Lawrence.
Lawrence entering the room. Are you? To Croker, who advances to meet him. Mr. Harrington. They shake hands.
I'm glad you're back in time to give me a parting shake of the hand. Trenwith, I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart. Lawrence with feeling. Isn't it? Isn't it jolly? Iris enters quietly, closing the door after her.
She is plainly dressed without ornament of any kind. Her face is somewhat wan, her eyes red, her manner very gentle and subdued, but her whole appearance and bearing express a spirit of happiness and resolve. Fanny rises and the men, hearing Iris enter, turn silently towards her. She advances to Croker, Iris giving him her hand.
Dear Croker. The bad penny. With no satisfactory news of your affairs? I'm all right. A bachelor whose hat covers his kingdom.
What about yourself? Lawrence is on her other side. She lays a hand upon his arm. Iris to Croker. They have told you?
Croker with a nod. I returned in the nick of time, eh? I should always have grieved if you had not been with us tonight. You congratulate us. Croker smiling at Lawrence.
I've already patted him on the back. That he has. Give me your good wishes. Oh, my dear. Stooping a little, she invites him to kiss her brow.
Croker, his lips touching her forehead. I congratulate you. Iris going to Maldonado. Good evening, Maldonado. We have dragged you away from the dinner table.
surveying the table on the right happily look at our modest preparations the last of my excesses after tonight going to the settee in the centre
and speaking across the table to Fanny Fanny, ask Henry to give us our wine Croker Fanny goes out at the door
Irish sits upon the settee and Croker comes to her side Maldonado and Lawrence Maldonado's arm round Lawrence's shoulder. Move away to the open window.
The music is resumed. Iris to Croker. You have heard everything from Fanny, faithful one. Croker nodding. You are moving on to Dremesso, I understand.
Tomorrow morning, early. Closing her eyes. Directly I hear that I am alone, that he has gone. Recovering herself. I shall remain there for a few weeks.
The pension is moderately clean and pleasant, and then transfer myself to another cheap place. A reese, perhaps. As long as I avoid heavy traveling expenses, I shall manage admirably.
Admirably. You are like a child with a new toy, divinity. Croker! Poverty! A new toy!
A new experience, at any rate. Are you sure you are justified in imposing this ordeal upon yourself? Ordeal? This life of mean economy. It is imposed upon me by circumstances.
They can be lightened by friends. It is maddening to reflect that I am useless to you at such a crisis, but there are dozens of other people who are attached to you. Freddy Maldonado? No, no.
Croker. He seats himself beside her, on her left. Dear, dear friend, I... I want to tell you... I welcome this change in my fortunes. I welcome it. Welcome it?
I have deserved it, Croker. I regard it as my proper penalty, my scourge. Scourge? For what in heaven's name? Oh, do you imagine a woman can be as self-centered as I have been? pamper herself as I have done, without meriting chastisement? You are a good woman to receive your reverses in this spirit.
Am I? There can be nothing very meritorious in accepting resignedly that which gives me self-respect, makes me worthy of Lawrence, equips me for the future I am one day to share with him. Shaking her head.
It is only another, a better form of selfishness. Oh, but I feel so much happier, so much happier. Croker patting her hand. And tomorrow? Tomorrow I actually enter into my new being.
Tomorrow. Fanny returns followed by the manservant, who proceeds to open one of the bottles of champagne and to fill the glasses. Iris rises and, going to the open window, speaks to Lawrence and Maldonado,
who are now upon the balcony. Fanny joins Croker. Iris to Fanny as she passes her. Thanks, dear Fanny. Fanny to Croker eagerly.
Has she been talking to you? Yes. Well, am I not right? Isn't she noble? Croker nodding.
All conditions of life are relative. For her, this is martyrdom. A cork is drawn. He glances over his shoulder at the table. I feel as if I were about to help fire the faggots. He stands with Fanny at the table. She on one side, he on the other.
Iris brings Lawrence into the room. Maldonado follows them and goes to the table. May I have the honour of presiding at these proceedings? Iris sitting by the writing table. How simple you are, Maldonado. Ha! There is a jealous light in our Croker's eye, but I would have him know that the idea of this ceremony originates with me.
A stirrup cup to Mr Trenwith. Croker presenting a glass of champagne to Iris. A stirrup cup to a traveller by boat and rail? Your metaphor is faulty, Freddy. Hark! He revenges himself upon my metaphors. Croker walks away towards the open window laughing.
Fanny brings a glass of champagne to Lawrence, who is standing at Iris's side and returns to the settee. The servant withdraws. The music stops. Maldonado handing a glass of wine to Fanny.
My dear Fanny. Fanny seating herself upon the settee. Thanks, Frederick. Maldonado giving a glass to Croker. Broker
Raising his own glass Our friend, Mr Trenwith, my dear young companion of the past three weeks, whose departure tomorrow morning is, let us hope, an unerring step towards the brilliant future we desire for him. To Lawrence toasting him
Lawrence, my dear boy Generally Mr Trenwith All save Lawrence put their glasses to their lips. Yes, a few weeks hence, our friend Trenwith embarks upon a career in a distant country, far away, a great deal too far away, from those who, in spite of short acquaintance, have learned to hold him in their esteem, in their affection.
With a gesture. Laurie. Lawrence advances to Maldonado, who again places an arm around his shoulder. You have a stiff time before you, dear boy, but the thought of the reward awaiting you will put grit into the toiler, carry him lightly over his hundreds of acres, and give ease to his weary limbs at the end of the day. And then the triumph, eh? The hour when the victor returns to us, when he claims the prize, when he is in a position to beseech delicate beauty, to grace his modest establishment at, what do you call the place?
Soda Creek. And to beg her to transform it by her presence into a palace. I drink to that hour and to the lady who inspires the fascinating picture. Raising his glass again. The lady who embodies in her single person loveliness, virtue, unspeakable charm, whose very name for those assembled here is perfume and music combined, Iris.
All except Iris drink the toast, after which ceremony Fanny puts her glass aside and goes to Iris and embraces her. Thank you, Mr Maldonado. If one has to leave one's friends behind one, there is a grim consolation in knowing that they are such true friends. The best a man ever had. Freddy, I've never heard you in better form, even at a city banquet. Ha ha! Iris going to Maldonado with outstretched hands.
Thanks. Thanks, dear Maldonado. Lawrence, Iris and Maldonado. Form a group on the right, talking together. Croker joins Fanny on the left Croker to Fanny Fanny?
Eh? Pish, why need Freddy treat us to that piece of bombast? Of course it isn't so But he spoke as if he didn't feel a syllable of it I agree with you
A few simple words and a handshake Maldonado Paternally to Iris and Lawrence Well, having discharged my duty and mixed my metaphors.
I leave you two young people to yourselves and to the company of the moon. Croker moves to take up his hat and coat. Iris smiling. No, I'm going to hand Lawrence over to your keeping at once, Maldo.
Croker and Fanny look round in surprise. Maldonado also raising his brows. At once? Iris composedly, but with eyes averted. You have promised to see him on board the boat in the morning.
Oh, yes. Half past five. Five forty-two, to be precise. It is very good-natured of you to deprive yourself of your rest. Ah, for you.
Iris smiling again. No, for him. But am I to come to you afterwards to bring you his final message? Iris, with an inclination of the head. I shall remain here till you have called.
Maldonado bending over her hand. Good night. These are the sad moments of life, but you are brave. That's admirable of you. Good night. Good night, Maldonado. Maldonado, taking his hat from the writing table and shaking hands with Fanny.
I wish you good night, dear Fanny. Good night, Freddy. Maldonado, shaking hands with Croker, who is again at the further window. Good night, my dear Croker. Good night.
Maldonado, turning. You will find me in the garden, Laurie, sounding your praises to the lizards. Lawrence waves a hand to him in response, and he departs by way of the balcony. Lawrence advances to Fanny. I want to thank you for your kindness to me, Miss Sylvain.
Ah! Vate is taking you in another direction for a time, but I shall always think of you. It will be a consolation to me to do so, as being at Iris's side. I shall contrive to be near her again soon, never fear. He holds out his hand.
She grasps it. Luck. I shall have it. Don't be long. Lauren's lifting his head high.
No, I shan't be long. He leaves Fanny and encounters Croker, who comes to him. Well, Trenwith. Well, Mr. Harrington. When does England see you again?
In two years. Three are the furthest. I believe you, if I'm alive. They grip hands and part. Iris is now on the balcony.
Lawrence joins her there. Fanny and Croker, the one on the left of the room, the other on the right, stand deliberately looking away from the lovers. Lawrence takes Iris in his arms and kisses her.
Then he calls to Maldonado. Mr Maldonado? Maldonado in the distance. Oh, hi. Lawrence disappears and Iris remains on the balcony.
leaning upon the balustrade watching his retreating figure fanny discovering by a glance that iris is alone goes quickly to croaker who is struggling with his overcoat eh is this their farewell i-i presume so good gracious oh but we forget they have said good-bye already poor children fanny nodding yes that must be it still rousing herself shall i assist you she helps him into his coat the band strikes up a fresh air and the curtain drops it rises after a moment's pause and the windows and the jalouseys are closed and the room is in almost total darkness through the darkness iris is seen reclining upon the settee in the centre sleeping lauren sits in a chair at the head of the settee watching her both are dressed as in the earlier part of the act the bells of a neighbouring church tinkle a little chime and then strike the quarter hour
at short intervals this is repeated by other bells in the distance whereupon laurence rises softly and tiptoes over to the writing-table there taking a match-box from his pocket he strikes a match and lights a wax taper which stands upon the table The light awakens the sleeper, who opens her eyes, and raising herself upon her elbow, stares at him. He produces his watch, winds it and sets its time by that of a travelling clock upon the table. Lawrence? Hush! Don't be alarmed.
What? The alarm has burnt itself out. The church bells chimed, and I struck a match to look at my watch. Iris pressing her hands upon her eyes I had fallen asleep Yes, I've been sitting here watching you
She rises with his help, a little unsteadily and walks across to the writing table where she consults the travelling clock A quarter past four Turning to him
Oh, why, you will soon, soon be Clinging to him Almost directly Oh, how cruel of you to allow me to sleep To waste the time
How cruel of you Observing a faint light through the chinks of the Jalusas There's the dawn Yes The dawn
She turns from him And seating herself in the chair Before the writing table Lays her head upon the table and weeps Lawrence bending over her
you were so white and weary i saw your eyelids drooping drooping i hand to the heart to rouse you dearest dearest dearest she composes herself gradually and rises drying her eyes forgive me i am very childish nothing can alter it the day has to begin indicating the further window. Open the jalousies. He opens the window and, stepping out upon the balcony,
pushes back the jalousies. The dawn is seen, leaden-coloured and forbidding. She blows out the light of the taper and joins him at the window as he re-enters. He closes the window and they stand together for a while,
his arm round her waist, gazing at the prospect. Iris shivering. Oh, oh, oh. She leaves him and walks away to the settee in the centre, where she sits with a scared look upon her face.
He follows her. Laurie? Yes? It was a mistake, dear. A mistake?
This sitting together through the night and talking away our last hours. It would have been wiser if I had done what I at first had a mind to do. parted from you yesterday when the sun was shining brilliantly. The sun will show himself again in a few minutes. As it does when one is driving home from a late ball,
defining everything sharply, making everything appear terribly distinct. Holding out her hands to him. Terribly true. He sits beside her and slipping her arm through his.
She rests her head upon his shoulder. For how long was I sleeping? An hour, perhaps. And one's blood is always sluggish at dawn. It's at early morning that people sink and die.
Laurie. Lauren's kissing her brow. Dearest. I am afraid I have lost some of my courage. I'm frightened.
I'm afraid. Frightened? That you're going away. That you're leaving me. Why, you were full of courage a little while ago.
Yes, and then I dropped off to sleep, nestling closer to him, and became chilled. Iris. What? Listen, Iris. Now listen. I am listening. Of course I am listening. Listening.
Dearest, why should we not change our plans, even at the eleventh hour? Abandon the idea of separating. Separating until I am prepared to receive you. Prepare to receive you. What a stupid formal sound the phrase has. Iris, my love, my wife, follow me to London tomorrow.
I will book your passage in the ship by telegram immediately I get to town. We will be married as quickly as possible after our arrival at Montreal. There or at Victoria. We will go out together. What do you say?
Ah, ah, ah. Yes, go out together. Share the struggle from the very beginning. Endure together. Build a prosperity atom by atom together.
Iris shaking her head. Ah, if it could be, dear. If it could be. Why can't it be? Oh, what a contempt Fanny would have for me.
Fanny. After all my protestations. And Croker. And Maldo. Releasing him and sitting away from him.
Yes, and how I should despise myself. Without the smallest reason. Loathe myself. And how you would despise me, by and by, upon reflection. Aye.
Recollecting that I had declined to make a sacrifice for you when I was well off, that it was not till I was poor, almost as poor as yourself, that I would marry you, and that then I promptly hung myself round your neck like a stone, became a dead weight upon you at a time when you most needed freedom from care and responsibility whenever you come to me two three years hence you will come as a poor woman you will come as a precious burden to me But after I have had my own struggle, my own battle with poverty, singly, alone, after
I have proved to you that I can live, patiently, uncomplainingly, without luxury, willingly relinquishing costly pleasures, content with the barest comfort. Rising. Yes, yes, after I have shown you that there are other, and better, and deeper qualities in my nature than you have suspected, than I myself have suspected. He rises and takes her
in his arms. Then, then I'll join you, Laurie. And in the meantime, you mustn't seek to make me falter in my resolutions. Help me to keep them, dear. I could cut my tongue out for having spoken as I did just now. I felt cold. I hadn't lost courage, really. Putting him from her, and standing erect. Look at me.
Fanny declares she's proud of me. Sitting in the chair by the writing table. Well, and you? Lawrence kneeling before her and taking her hands in his.
Proud, proud. No man honoured by the favours of a queen ever felt deeper pride than I feel in the possession of your love. Iris bending over him
so that her lips almost touch his hair. My love, yes, but this other, loftier, purer side of me, I want you to be proud of that. It is of that that I am proud. I cannot dissociate your love from your goodness. In my mind they have always been one.
You have always been to me the best, the sweetest of women. Iris smiling sadly. Ah, ah, but before you return to claim me you must forget. You will forget? Forget and remember.
Oh, forget, dear, more than you remember. Come to me then as if you had never known me, or known me but a little. Let us then learn each other, as it were, afresh, raise up barriers between us for the delight of breaking them down. Looking into space.
Two years, three. They will pass quickly. I pray they will, and yet for shame's sake not too quickly, so that when you come to marry me, you may marry... Yes. One who is a stranger to you.
The church bells strike the half-hour. They listen with strained ears. After a pause, he rises slowly. What is that? Laurence walking away from her, his head bowed. Half past four, I think. Other bells are heard.
I have lived here how many weeks, and have scarcely noticed those bells. She goes to him, and they stand side by side without speaking, their hands tightly locked. Laurence after the silence, with an assumption of cheerfulness. I have a little over an hour. That's ample. I paid my score last night, and the port already has my big baggage.
Only to make my toilet and throw a few things into a kit bag. Rubbing his chin. No time for a shave, though. I wonder whether the wait at Como will be long enough to enable me to visit a barber. Iris, passing her hand over his chin.
Untidy fellow. Untidy. Oh, up on the ranch. You won't wear a beard? Not a beard.
It shall be removed in any event before... Before we... Yes, don't you dare ever to venture into my presence. They laugh together pitifully, and in the end, their laughter dying out, she cries unrestrainedly upon his shoulder.
Then, with an effort, she leaves his side and throws open the further window. The heavy sky is now streaked with an ugly yellow bar. There are some raindrops. Has the weather broken at last? He goes mechanically to the settee on the left and fetches his hat. Iris coming to him and turning up the collar of his coat.
Run, directly you get onto the road. They walk to the open window. Lauren's looking out. Yes, Rain, I'm afraid you'll be horribly dull. Shut the jalousies so that the servants may find them closed.
with clenched hands. Go now. They embrace finally. He kisses her hands, her eyes, her lips. Iris in his ear.
I have loved you. I shall love you always. I shall love you always. He goes out onto the balcony where he pauses, looking at her.
Close the jalousies. Shut them. He closes the jalousies. she the window, and the room is once more in darkness. With a low wail, she totters to the settee in the centre, and throws herself upon it, burying her face in the pillows, and sobbing
violently. The curtain descends, rising again almost immediately. It is now day, but the rain is falling heavily, and the lake and the hills beyond are obscured as if by a grey veil. Iris, dressed as before, is sitting in a chair by the further window, absorbed in contemplating the dreary prospect. Her hat, cape and gloves are on the table on the right, and on the chair which remains at the head of the settee, in the centre, is her dressing bag open. The wooden case has disappeared, but the birdcage, with its cover raised, is still upon the cabinet.
The manservant enters at the door. I beg your pardon, ma'am. Iris turning. Eh? At what hour do you desire the fly, the carriage?
Iris rising. I am expecting Mr. Maldonado. Directly he has left me. The man is going. Put a bird upon the front seat.
Be careful. He takes up the cage which contains a solitary canary and is again about to depart. Wait. The man returns placing the cage upon the table. She goes to her dressing bag and searches for and finds a small velvet sack.
From this she produces quite heedlessly a handful of gold pieces. Iris throwing the little sack back into the dressing bag. I shall be much obliged to you if you will distribute this among the servants, including yourself. Giving him the money and moving away towards the writing table. I thank you all for the attention I have received here.
Manservant staring at the money, which he holds in two hands. I really beg pardon, ma'am. Iris turning. What? I, that is, we, we've heard, that is, we've been given to understand.
Eh? Ah, yes, but this is the last time I may have the privilege. Busying herself in collecting certain little personal objects, her diary, date case, address book, a stamp box, etc., etc., which are upon the writing table. I thank you once more.
We are exceedingly grateful, ma'am. Removing the cover from the birdcage, he pours the money into it and carrying the cage in one hand and the improvised money bag in the other with drawers. She takes up Lawrence's portrait and studies it fondly.
Then, after pressing it to her lips, she proceeds to find a place for it in her dressing bag. The manservant reappears Mr. Maldonado Maldonado, wet and mud-splashed, enters briskly and comes to her
Iris giving him her hand I have been waiting for you I went as far as Sala in the boat Giving his hat to the servant There I landed and have tramped back
Maldonado, you are drenched He slips out of the cloak he is wearing and hands that also to the servant, who finally retires. You have been true to your promise. Aha! Rising betimes upon such a morning.
I was on my balcony at four o'clock, watching the dawn. Iris turning away and sitting in the chair by the writing table. The dawn? Maldonado pulling off his wet gloves. I was restless, I suppose, because I knew I had your business on hand.
Before five, I was outside the Britannia, throwing stones at Laurie's window. We had coffee together, he and I, and then, arm in arm, made for the pier. Poor boy. Was he very downcast? His heart was heavy enough, doubtless, but... With a shrug.
At eight and twenty, a new world ahead of you. Naturally. Phew! Seating himself upon the settee in the centre. Never heeding the rain, we paced the deck of the little steamer unceasingly.
How time flies when there is a common point of interest between two men. Our theme? Need I say we talked of you, of nothing but you, my dear Iris. Our friend. Our mistress, our goddess.
Hush. Ha, ha, ha, no. Now I reflect upon it. I believe I appropriated rather more than my fair share of the conversation. On certain topics, when once I am set going, ha.
I am sure you cheered and amused him. Ultimately, I was put ashore, and the boat went off without me. Went off hooting into the wet fog. and I was left staring at the particular patch of cloud that had engulfed her. Upon my soul, I think I was the more eat-up of the two.
No, that's exaggeration, of course. But the mental picture of the lonely lady of this villa at her bedroom window, eh? Her eyes trying to pierce the mist, the mist of her eyes and of the beastly, sodden hair. He rises abruptly and goes to the further window and looks out. She wipes her tears away with her handkerchief.
After a moment or two, he comes to her and lays a hand upon her shoulder, consolingly. The last word he spoke. Tell me. Unfortunately, at Sala, there was some confusion over his luggage, and he was called from my side, so he had no opportunity, dear chap, of sending a final message. Ah. But it's not difficult to surmise what its purport would have been.
Looking at his watch. Not difficult, at any rate, for a poor devil, who is also compelled to wrench himself away from you. You, Maldow? I, too, make my plunge into the mist this morning. I'm driving to Poletze to pick up the afternoon train at Lugano.
Iris rising. You go to London? To Brussels and Paris. I have received some upbraiding telegrams from our houses there. Ah, you have wasted so much of your time with us.
Wasted? Bestowed so much of your time upon us, I will say. Maldonado stroking his beard. I was determined at all costs to see the end of poor Lawrence. Iris with a pathetic pucker of her mouth.
And Fanny and Croker tomorrow. And I, I at a little pension at Tremezzo. Picturesque, dirty Tremezzo with its thousand odours. Odours. That reminds me, before I wish you goodbye. Running his hand over the outside of his pockets.
Tsh, have I left it at the hotel? No, here it is. He produces from his breast pocket an unused checkbook and carelessly turns its leaves. What is that? Before I say goodbye, let me explain why I leave this in your keeping. Iris instinctively shrinking a little
A cheque book? My reason is this. I have presumed, ah, don't be too indignant with me, to pay into my bank to your account, to the account of Iris Bellamy. No, no.
I am humbly conscious that I appear to be opposing your wishes in doing what I have done. Deliberately opposing them, Maldo? What a terribly censorious expression. Well, if the amount were anything very considerable, there would be perhaps some justification for it. I have already explained. But a few hundred pounds, a thousand or so.
Oh, Maldo. As a small reserve in the event of your being pressed by a debt, a debt overlooked in the general settlement. Please. Or you're feeling unhappy at Tremezzo or elsewhere. Iris touching his arm appealingly.
Maldo. Poverty abounds in unpleasant surprises. Maldo, Maldo. Eh? Don't think me horribly ungracious.
Indeed, indeed, I am full of gratitude to you, my dear friend. But upon the question of accepting help, money, I am firm. I am as hard as adamant. You must not, therefore, consider me unkind. If you don't honour me by drawing a single cheque, my dear, I assure you,
I shall never trouble to inquire whether you had recourse to this paltry little fund at my bank or not. So, in this instance, you'll be less cruel to me than to yourself You are hurt I'm always paining you It seems to be my special misfortune
Pish, throw the thing into your writing case and forget it He passes her and throws the checkbook upon the writing table I would prefer that a book were not even left with me, Maldo Oh, pray, won't you at least do me the favour of burning it? May I not beg that indulgence of you?
Certainly, I'll destroy it. My most profound acknowledgements. Iris taking his hand. Ah, don't, don't. In a day or two I will write you a letter.
A letter. For small mercies. Oh, why be angry with me? What have I done? Maldonado, Maldonado, Maldonado, looking into her eyes. It's impossible to be cross with you for more than a moment.
There, I forgive you. Ah. This and the rest. Adieu. Adieu. He kisses her hands rather too warmly.
She goes to the door and pulls the bell rope. Let me see. You transfer yourself to Varese? Next month, I think. Maldonado, lightly but with intention. Is Varese pleasant in November, I wonder?
Very, they tell me. Tsh, I fear I mustn't indulge myself in another holiday yet a while. No? You rich men work like slaves, Maldonado. Ha, what else is there in life? He pauses a little longer, waiting for some further response from her.
Receiving none, he looks at his watch again hurriedly. I must off. Goodbye. Iris raising her head. Goodbye, Maldo. He goes out. At the same moment, Aurea appears outside the further window,
and after looking into the room, raps upon the window pane. Iris turning. Ah! Opening the window. Aurea.
Good morning. Here's a day. Come in. Aurea, who carries an umbrella, enters brightly and eagerly. Iris closing the window. What brings you out into the rain?
Patting her cheeks. To water the roses? As we go tomorrow, I thought I might not have another opportunity of seeing you alone. You have always been so sweet to me. Iris kissing her.
Ah. Aunt Fanny says I am to be most careful to avoid sad subjects when I meet you and to be bright and cheerful. She's right. So I've come to talk solely about myself. I want you to be the first, the very first, to hear my news.
News? It's a dead secret. I shan't breathe a word of it to Aunt until the business is absolutely settled. Business? I'm waiting. Aurea laughing gleefully.
Let me get rid of my umbrella. Resting her umbrella against the table on the right and returning to Iris with an air of importance. Now then, what do you think, dear Mrs Bellamy? I have a prospect of being able to make myself independent of my relations.
Really? Yes, positively. You know, while Aunt Fanny could afford to have me with her, my position was just endurable. But now, well, I can't expect to find the world full of Aunt Fanny's, can I? Tell me.
It's all through Miss Pinsent. Kate Pinsent? Or Rhea nodding. Whom I met at your house at Kensington. You remember your lovely dinner party?
Iris looking away. Perfectly. We struck up a great friendship that night, Miss Pinsent and I. I wrote to her when we first heard of Aunt's Reverse, mentioning how I was situated. She's a dear.
Iris turning from Aurea. Yes, I'm afraid I didn't treat her very considerately. I'm certain you did. You do everybody. She adores you. So does everybody. In an outburst. We are going into business.
You and Kate. That is, she is going into business if she can overcome initial difficulties, and I am to be allowed to join her. Dropping upon the settee in the centre. Isn't it exciting? You enterprising little woman.
Advancing to her. Difficulties? What difficulties? She has to find three or four hundred pounds to decorate and fit up the rooms. The rooms. Four rooms. Two on the first floor and two on the second, where the girls will work. Iris standing facing Aurea and looking down upon her.
But Kate has money. Aurea shaking her head. No. And her mother to maintain. Isn't it rough? She saved money. She saved it with me, in my service. I know it. Oh yes, but that went...
Went? Mr. Kane had it. Iris sitting beside Aurea. Kane. Poor girl. She used to talk to him when he came to your house.
Of course. And one day she asked him to invest her savings for her. Gone. Aurea nodding. Dreadfully hard lines.
But she's awfully dogged, and if she can only induce somebody to stand by her over this undertaking. Poor Kate. Fancy the avalanche crushing her too. A nice creature.
I'm certain she'll manage it somehow. She swears she'll move heaven and earth before she owns beat. Iris thoughtfully with knit brows. That's all very well. If she doesn't, if she can't.
Oh, don't suggest that, Mrs Bellamy. Don't, don't suggest that. Iris rises and slowly walks towards the writing table, while Aurea, not following her movements, rackles on emphatically. Surely, surely there are plenty of generous, wealthy people who will lend a helping hand to a woman. Kate has tried for another situation as companion, such as she held with you, and has failed.
The salaries offered are impossible. There's but one Mrs. Bellamy on earth, she says. All the rest are in heaven. Oh, it would be too cruel if this chance escaped her. Cruel on her and on me. Me. I believe I shall break my heart if it falls through. I think of nothing else, dream of nothing else talk of nothing else you'll say iris is now seated quite composedly before the writing table drawing a check in maldonado's checkbook hush hush i'm writing
or raya rising i beg your pardon mrs bellamy iris carefully extracts the check from the book and blocks it and taking an envelope from the table rises and comes to Aurea. Iris folding the check. Aurea, this little gift will put an end to those initial difficulties you speak of. Send it to your friend at once with my good wishes. Aurea staring at the check as Iris encloses it in the envelope. Oh! Iris giving the envelope to Aurea.
Say that I am sincerely sorry I dismissed her so unkindly, so abruptly. Mrs. Bellamy! Dear Mrs. Bellamy! You mustn't attempt to do this for us. It delights me to render this service, the last perhaps I shall ever render anybody. But how... how can you? Iris looking down.
I have unexpectedly come into possession of a trifling Not a word, please, to your aunt No Aunt Aurea, mind, you must put Kate Pinsent upon her honour Her word of honour, never to let a soul know
The manservant enters at the door The carriage is here, ma'am Iris to Aurea Shall I give you a lift as far as de Bellevue? Aunt might wonder and put awkward questions.
Iris with a glance of assent. I am to see you both at Tremezzo this afternoon? Yes. Iris to the servant. Come back for my bag when you have let Miss Weiss out.
Yes, ma'am. Aurea, throwing her arms around Iris's neck. Oh, oh! she snatches up her umbrella and runs away the servant goes after her with a troubled half guilty look iris attires herself in her hat and cape after which carrying her gloves she returns
to her dressing bag glancing around the room to assure herself that she has collected all her small personal belongings her eyes rest on the checkbook which lies open on the writing table She contemplates it for a time, a gradually increasing fear showing itself in her face. Ultimately she walks slowly to the table and picks up the book. She is fingering it in an uncertain frightened way when the servant returns.
Manservant standing over the bag. Is there anything more, ma'am? She hesitates helplessly, then becoming conscious that she is being stared at. she advances, drops the book into the bag, and passes out. The man shuts the bag, and is following her as the curtain falls.
End of Act Three
