60 Plays: The George Bernard Shaw Edition (Illustrated). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

her face.)

      PARAMORE (sadly). I am afraid you love him, for all that, Miss Craven.

      JULIA (raising her head instantly). If he says that, he lies. If ever you hear it said that I cared for him, contradict it: it is false.

      PARAMORE (quickly advancing to her). Miss Craven: is the way clear for me then?

      JULIA (pettishly — losing interest in the conversation and looking crossly into the fire). What do you mean?

      PARAMORE (impetuously). You must see what I mean. Contradict the rumour of your attachment to Charteris, not by words — it has gone too far for that — but by becoming my wife. (Earnestly.) Believe me: it is not merely your beauty that attracts me: (Julia, interested, looks up at him quickly) I know other beautiful women. It is your heart, your sincerity, your sterling reality, (Julia rises and gazes at him, breathless with a new hope) your great gifts of character that are only half developed because you have never been understood by those about you.

      JULIA (looking intently at him, and yet beginning to be derisively sceptical in spite of herself). Have you really seen all that in me?

      PARAMORE. I have felt it. I have been alone in the world; and I need you, Julia. That is how I have divined that you, also, are alone in the world.

      JULIA (with theatrical pathos). You are right there. I am indeed alone in the world.

      PARAMORE (timidly approaching her). With you I should not be alone. And you? — with me?

      JULIA. You! (She gets quickly out of his reach, taking refuge at the tea-table.) No, no. I can’t bring myself — (She breaks off, perplexed, and looks uneasily about her.) Oh, I don’t know what to do. You will expect too much from me. (She sits down.)

      PARAMORE. I have more faith in you than you have in yourself. Your nature is richer than you think.

      JULIA (doubtfully). Do you really believe that I am not the shallow, jealous, devilish tempered creature they all pretend I am?

      PARAMORE. I am ready to place my happiness in your hands. Does that prove what I think of you?

      JULIA. Yes: I believe you really care for me. (He approaches her eagerly: she has a violent revulsion, and rises with her hand raised as if to beat him off, crying) No, no, no, no. I cannot. It’s impossible. (She goes towards the door.)

      PARAMORE (looking wistfully after her). Is it Charteris?

      JULIA (stopping and turning). Ah, you think that! (She comes back.) Listen to me. If I say yes, will you promise not to touch me — to give me time to accustom myself to the idea of our new relations?

      PARAMORE. I promise most faithfully. I would not press you for the world.

      JULIA. Then — then — yes: I promise. (He is about to utter his rapture; she will not have it.) Now, not another word of it. Let us forget it. (She resumes her seat at the table.) Give me some more tea. (He hastens to his former seat. As he passes, she puts her left hand on his arm and says) Be good to me, Percy, I need it sorely.

      PARAMORE (transported). You have called me Percy! Hurrah! (Charteris and Craven come in. Paramore hastens to meet them, beaming.) Delighted to see you here with me, Colonel Craven. And you, too, Charteris. Sit down. (The Colonel sits down on the end of the couch.) Where are the others?

      CHARTERIS. Sylvia has dragged Cuthbertson off into the Burlington Arcade to buy some caramels. He likes to encourage her in eating caramels: he thinks it’s a womanly taste. Besides, he likes them himself. They’ll be here presently. (He strolls across to the cabinet and pretends to study the Rembrandt photograph, so as to be as far out of Julia’s reach as possible.)

      CRAVEN. Yes; and Charteris has been trying to persuade me that there’s a short cut between Cork Street and Savile Row somewhere in Conduit Street. Now did you ever hear such nonsense? Then he said my coat was getting shabby, and wanted me to go into Poole’s and order a new one. Paramore: is my coat shabby?

      PARAMORE. Not that I can see.

      CRAVEN. I should think not. Then he wanted to draw me into a dispute about the Egyptian war. We should have been here quarter of an hour ago only for his nonsense.

      CHARTERIS (still contemplating Rembrandt). I did my best to keep him from disturbing you, Paramore.

      PARAMORE (gratefully). You have come in the nick of time. Colonel Craven: I have something very particular to say to you.

      CRAVEN (springing up in alarm). In private, Paramore: now really it must be in private.

      PARAMORE (surprised). Of course. I was about to suggest my consulting room: there’s nobody there. Miss Craven: will you excuse me: Charteris will entertain you until I return. (He leads the way to the green baize door.)

      CHARTERIS (aghast). Oh, I say, hadn’t you better wait until the others come?

      PARAMORE (exultant). No need for further delay now, my best friend. (He wrings Charteris’s hand.) Will you come, Colonel?

      CRAVEN. At your service, Paramore: at your service. (Craven and Paramore go into the consulting room. Julia turns her head and stares insolently at Charteris. His nerves play him false: he is completely out of countenance in a moment. She rises suddenly. He starts, and comes hastily forward between the table and the bookcase. She crosses to that side behind the table; and he immediately crosses to the opposite side in front of it, dodging her.)

      CHARTERIS (nervously). Don’t, Julia. Now don’t abuse your advantage. You’ve got me here at your mercy. Be good for once; and don’t make a scene.

      JULIA (contemptuously). Do you suppose I am going to touch you?

      CHARTERIS. No. Of course not. (She comes forward on her side of the table. He retreats on his side of it. She looks at him with utter scorn; sweeps across to the couch; and sits down imperially. With a great sigh of relief he drops into Paramore’s chair.)

      JULIA. Come here. I have something to say to you.

      CHARTERIS. Yes? (He rolls the chair a few inches towards her.)

      JULIA. Come here, I say. I am not going to shout across the room at you. Are you afraid of me?

      CHARTERIS. Horribly. (He moves the chair slowly, with great misgiving, to the end of the couch.)

      JULIA (with studied insolence). Has that woman told you that she has given you up to me without an attempt to defend her conquest?

      CHARTERIS (whispering persuasively). Shew that you are capable of the same sacrifice. Give me up, too.

      JULIA. Sacrifice! And so you think I’m dying to marry you, do you?

      CHARTERIS. I am afraid your intentions have been honourable, Julia.

      JULIA. You cad!

      CHARTERIS (with a sigh). I confess I am something either more or less than a gentleman, Julia. You once gave me the benefit of the doubt.

      JULIA. Indeed! I never told you so. If you cannot behave like a gentleman, you had better go back to the society of the woman who has given you up — if such a coldblooded, cowardly creature can be called a woman. (She rises majestically; he makes his chair fly back to the table.) I know you now, Leonard Charteris, through and through, in all your falseness, your petty spite, your cruelty and your vanity. The place you coveted has been won by a man more worthy of it.

      CHARTERIS (springing up, and coming close to her, gasping with eagerness). What do you mean? Out with it. Have you accep —

      JULIA. I am engaged to Dr. Paramore.

      CHARTERIS (enraptured). My own Julia! (He attempts to embrace her.)

      JULIA (recoiling — he catching her hands and holding them). How dare you! Are you mad? Do you wish me to call Dr. Paramore?

      CHARTERIS. Call everybody, my darling — everybody in London. Now I shall no longer have to be brutal — to defend myself — to go in fear of you. How I have looked forward to this day! You know now that I don’t want you