The Fifth Series Plays | Page 6

idiot!"
he looks at her blushing face and panting figure, pats her on the
shoulder and says] Never mind; don't be nervous.
ANNIE. Oh! yes, sir. Is that all, please, sir?

MRS BUILDER. [With a side look at her husband and a faint smile]
Yes; you can go.
ANNIE. Thank you, ma'am.
She turns and hurries out into the kitchen, Left. BUILDER gazes after
her, and MRS BUILDER gazes at BUILDER with her faint smile.
BUILDER. [After the girl is gone] Quaint and Dutch--pretty little
figure! [Staring round] H'm! Extraordinary girls are! Fancy Athene
preferring this to home. What?
MRS BUILDER. I didn't say anything.
BUILDER. [Placing a chair for his wife, and sitting down himself]
Well, we must wait, I suppose. Confound that Nixon legacy! If Athene
hadn't had that potty little legacy left her, she couldn't have done this.
Well, I daresay it's all spent by now. I made a mistake to lose my
temper with her.
MRS BUILDER. Isn't it always a mistake to lose one's temper?
BUILDER. That's very nice and placid; sort of thing you women who
live sheltered lives can say. I often wonder if you women realise the
strain on a business man.
MRS BUILDER. [In her softly ironical voice] It seems a shame to add
the strain of family life.
BUILDER. You've always been so passive. When I want a thing, I've
got to have it.
MRS BUILDER. I've noticed that.
BUILDER. [With a short laugh] Odd if you hadn't, in twenty-three
years. [Touching a canvas standing against the chair with his toe] Art!
Just a pretext. We shall be having Maud wanting to cut loose next.
She's very restive. Still, I oughtn't to have had that scene with Athene. I
ought to have put quiet pressure.
MRS BUILDER Smiles.
BUILDER. What are you smiling at?
MRS BUILDER shrugs her shoulders.
Look at this-- Cigarettes! [He examines the brand on the box] Strong,
very--and not good! [He opens the door] Kitchen! [He shuts it, crosses,
and opens the door, Right] Bedroom!
MRS BUILDER. [To his disappearing form] Do you think you ought,
John?
He has disappeared, and she ends with an expressive movement of her

hands, a long sigh, and a closing of her eyes. BUILDER'S peremptory
voice is heard: "Julia!"
What now?
She follows into the bedroom. The maid ANNIE puts her head out of
the kitchen door; she comes out a step as if to fly; then, at BUILDER'S
voice, shrinks back into the kitchen.
BUILDER, reappearing with a razor strop in one hand and a
shaving-brush in the other, is followed by MRS BUILDER.
BUILDER. Explain these! My God! Where's that girl?
MRS BUILDER. John! Don't! [Getting between him and the kitchen
door] It's not dignified.
BUILDER. I don't care a damn.
MRS BUILDER. John, you mustn't. Athene has the tiny beginning of a
moustache, you know.
BUILDER. What! I shall stay and clear this up if I have to wait a week.
Men who let their daughters--! This age is the limit. [He makes a
vicious movement with the strop, as though laying it across someone's
back.]
MRS BUILDER. She would never stand that. Even wives object,
nowadays.
BUILDER. [Grimly] The war's upset everything. Women are utterly
out of hand. Why the deuce doesn't she come?
MRS BUILDER. Suppose you leave me here to see her.
BUILDER. [Ominously] This is my job.
MRS BUILDER. I think it's more mine.
BUILDER. Don't stand there opposing everything I say! I'll go and
have another look--[He is going towards the bedroom when the sound
of a latchkey in the outer door arrests him. He puts the strop and brush
behind his back, and adds in a low voice] Here she is!
MRS BUILDER has approached him, and they have both turned
towards the opening door. GUY HERRINGHAME comes in. They are
a little out of his line of sight, and he has shut the door before he sees
them. When he does, his mouth falls open, and his hand on to the knob
of the door. He is a comely young man in Harris tweeds. Moreover, he
is smoking. He would speak if he could, but his surprise is too
excessive. BUILDER. Well, sir?
GUY. [Recovering a little] I was about to say the same to you, sir.

BUILDER. [Very red from repression] These rooms are not yours, are
they?
GUY. Nor yours, sir?
BUILDER. May I ask if you know whose they are?
GUY. My sister's.
BUILDER. Your--you--!
MRS BUILDER. John!
BUILDER. Will you kindly tell me why your sister signs her drawings
by the name of my daughter, Athene Builder--and has a photograph of
my wife hanging there?
The YOUNG MAN looks at MRS BUILDER and winces, but recovers
himself.
GUY. [Boldly] As a matter of fact this is my sister's studio;