Behind the Beyond | Page 5

Others ask indignantly how she could know
herself if her husband refused to let her be herself. But everybody feels
that the subject is a delicious one.
Those of the people who have seen the play before very kindly explain
how it ends, so as to help the rest to enjoy it. But the more
serious-minded of the men have risen, very gently, and are sneaking up
the aisles. Their expression is stamped with deep thought as if
pondering over the play. But their step is as that of leopards on the
march, and no one is deceived as to their purpose.
The music continues. The discussion goes on.
* * * * *
The leopards come stealing back. The orchestra boils over in a cadence
and stops. The theater is darkened again. The footlights come on with a
flash. The curtain silently lifts, and it is--

Act II.--Six Months Later
THE programs rustle. The people look to see where it is. And they find
that it is "An Apartment in Paris." Notice that this place which is used
in every problem play is just called An Apartment. It is not called Mr.
Harding's Apartment, or an Apartment for which Mr. Harding pays the
Rent. Not a bit. It is just an Apartment. Even if it were "A Apartment"
it would feel easier. But "An Apartment"!! The very words give the
audience a delicious shiver of uncomfortableness.
When the curtain rises it discloses a French maid moving about the
stage in four-dollar silk stockings. She is setting things on a little table,
evidently for supper. She explains this in French as she does it, so as to

make it clear.
[Illustration: Their expression is stamped with deep thought.]
"Bon! la serviette de monsieur! bon! la serviette de madame, bien--du
champagne, bon! langouste aux champignons, bien, bon.--" This is all
the French she knows, poor little thing, but langouste aux champignons
beats the audience, so she is all right.
Anyway, this supper scene has to come in. It is symbolical. You can't
really show Amalfi and Fiesole and the orange trees, so this kind of
supper takes their place.
As the maid moves about there is a loud knock at the cardboard door of
the apartment. A man in official clothes sticks his head in. He is
evidently a postal special messenger because he is all in postal attire
with a postal glazed hat.
"Monsieur Arrding?" he says.
"Oui."
"Bon! Une lettre."
"Merci, monsieur." He goes out. The audience feel a thrill of pride at
having learned French and being able to follow the intense realism of
this dialogue. The maid lays the letter on the supper table.
Just as she does it the door opens and there enter Mr. Harding and Lady
Cicely. Yes, them. Both of them. The audience catches it like a flash.
They live here.
Lady Cicely throws aside her cloak. There is great gaiety in her manner.
Her face is paler. There is a bright spot in each cheek. Her eyes are very
bright.
* * * * *
There follows the well-known supper scene. Lady Cicely is very gay.

She pours champagne into Mr. Harding's glass. They both drink from it.
She asks him if he is a happy boy now. He says he is. She runs her
fingers through his hair. He kisses her on the bare shoulder. This is also
symbolic.
Lady Cicely rattles on about Amalfi and Fiesole. She asks Mr. Harding
if he remembers that night in the olive trees at Santa Clara, with just
one thrush singing in the night sky. He says he does. He remembers the
very thrush. You can see from the talk that they have been all over
Baedeker's guide to the Adriatic.
At times Lady Cicely's animation breaks. She falls into a fit of
coughing and presses her hand to her side. Mr. Harding looks at her
apprehensively. She says, "It is nothing, silly boy, it will be gone in a
moment." It is only because she is so happy.
[Illustration: He kisses her on the bare shoulder.]
Then, quite suddenly, she breaks down and falls at Mr. Harding's
knees.
"Oh, Jack, Jack, I can't stand it! I can't stand it any longer. It is choking
me!"
"My darling, what is it?"
"This, all this, it is choking me--this apartment, these pictures, the
French maid, all of it. I can't stand it. I'm being suffocated. Oh, Jack,
take me away--take me somewhere where it is quiet, take me to
Norway to the great solemn hills and the fjords----"
* * * * *
Then suddenly Mr. Harding sees the letter in its light blue envelope
lying on the supper table. It has been lying right beside him for ten
minutes. Everybody in the theater could see