Six Short Plays | Page 4

to keep by you?
KEITH. Come, Larry! Hand it over.
LARRY. [Replacing the box] Not quite! You've never killed a man,
you see. [He gives that crazy laugh.] D'you remember that hammer
when we were boys and you riled me, up in the long room? I had luck
then. I had luck in Naples once. I nearly killed a driver for beating his
poor brute of a horse. But now--! My God! [He covers his face.]
KEITH touched, goes up and lays a hand on his shoulder.
KEITH. Come, Larry! Courage!

LARRY looks up at him.
LARRY. All right, Keith; I'll try.
KEITH. Don't go out. Don't drink. Don't talk. Pull yourself together!
LARRY. [Moving towards the door] Don't keep me longer than you
can help, Keith.
KEITH. No, no. Courage!
LARRY reaches the door, turns as if to say something-finds no words,
and goes.
[To the fire] Courage! My God! I shall need it!
CURTAIN

SCENE II
At out eleven o'clock the following night an WANDA'S room on the
ground floor in Soho. In the light from one close-shaded electric bulb
the room is but dimly visible. A dying fire burns on the left. A
curtained window in the centre of the back wall. A door on the right.
The furniture is plush-covered and commonplace, with a kind of
shabby smartness. A couch, without back or arms, stands aslant,
between window and fire.
[On this WANDA is sitting, her knees drawn up under her, staring at
the embers. She has on only her nightgown and a wrapper over it; her
bare feet are thrust into slippers. Her hands are crossed and pressed
over her breast. She starts and looks up, listening. Her eyes are candid
and startled, her face alabaster pale, and its pale brown hair, short and
square-cut, curls towards her bare neck. The startled dark eyes and the
faint rose of her lips are like colour-staining on a white mask.]
[Footsteps as of a policeman, very measured, pass on the pavement
outside, and die away. She gets up and steals to the window, draws one
curtain aside so that a chink of the night is seen. She opens the curtain
wider, till the shape of a bare, witch-like tree becomes visible in the
open space of the little Square on the far side of the road. The footsteps
are heard once more coming nearer. WANDA closes the curtains and
cranes back. They pass and die again. She moves away and looking
down at the floor between door and couch, as though seeing something
there; shudders; covers her eyes; goes back to the couch and down
again just as before, to stare at the embers. Again she is startled by
noise of the outer door being opened. She springs up, runs and turns the

light by a switch close to the door. By the glimmer of the fire she can
just be seen standing by the dark window-curtains, listening. There
comes the sound of subdued knocking on her door. She stands in
breathless terror. The knocking is repeated. The sound of a latchkey in
the door is heard. Her terror leaves her. The door opens; a man enters in
a dark, fur overcoat.]
WANDA. [In a voice of breathless relief, with a rather foreign accent]
Oh! it's you, Larry! Why did you knock? I was so frightened. Come in!
[She crosses quickly, and flings her arms round his neck]
[Recoiling--in a terror-stricken whisper] Oh! Who is it?
KEITH. [In a smothered voice] A friend of Larry's. Don't be frightened.
She has recoiled again to the window; and when he finds the switch
and turns the light up, she is seen standing there holding her dark
wrapper up to her throat, so that her face has an uncanny look of being
detached from the body.
[Gently] You needn't be afraid. I haven't come to do you harm-- quite
the contrary. [Holding up the keys] Larry wouldn't have given me these,
would he, if he hadn't trusted me?
WANDA does not move, staring like a spirit startled out of the flesh.
[After looking round him] I'm sorry to have startled you.
WANDA. [In a whisper] Who are you, please?
KEITH. Larry's brother.
WANDA, with a sigh of utter relief, steals forward to the couch and
sinks down. KEITH goes up to her.
He'd told me.
WANDA. [Clasping her hands round her knees.] Yes?
KEITH. An awful business!
WANDA. Yes; oh, yes! Awful--it is awful!
KEITH. [Staring round him again.] In this room?
WANDA. Just where you are standing. I see him now, always falling.
KEITH. [Moved by the gentle despair in her voice] You--look very
young. What's your name?
WANDA. Wanda.
KEITH. Are you fond of Larry?
WANDA. I would die for him!
[A moment's silence.]
KEITH. I--I've come to see