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

takes out his money again]. I made all that yesterday in an hour and a half. But I made it in a highly speculative business. No, dear Praddy: even if Bessie and Georgina marry millionaires and the governor dies after cutting them off with a shilling, I shall have only four hundred a year. And he won’t die until he’s three score and ten: he hasn’t originality enough. I shall be on short allowance for the next twenty years. No short allowance for Viv, if I can help it. I withdraw gracefully and leave the field to the gilded youth of England. So that settled. I shan’t worry her about it: I’ll just send her a little note after we’re gone. She’ll understand.

      PRAED [grasping his hand] Good fellow, Frank! I heartily beg your pardon. But must you never see her again?

      FRANK. Never see her again! Hang it all, be reasonable. I shall come along as often as possible, and be her brother. I can not understand the absurd consequences you romantic people expect from the most ordinary transactions. [A knock at the door]. I wonder who this is. Would you mind opening the door? If it’s a client it will look more respectable than if I appeared.

      PRAED. Certainly. [He goes to the door and opens it. Frank sits down in Vivie’s chair to scribble a note]. My dear Kitty: come in: come in.

      [Mrs Warren comes in, looking apprehensively around for Vivie. She has done her best to make herself matronly and dignified. The brilliant hat is replaced by a sober bonnet, and the gay blouse covered by a costly black silk mantle. She is pitiably anxious and ill at ease: evidently panicstricken.]

      MRS WARREN [to Frank] What! Y o u r e here, are you?

      FRANK [turning in his chair from his writing, but not rising] Here, and charmed to see you. You come like a breath of spring.

      MRS WARREN. Oh, get out with your nonsense. [In a low voice] Where’s Vivie?

      [Frank points expressively to the door of the inner room, but says nothing.]

      MRS WARREN [sitting down suddenly and almost beginning to cry] Praddy: won’t she see me, don’t you think?

      PRAED. My dear Kitty: don’t distress yourself. Why should she not?

      MRS WARREN. Oh, you never can see why not: youre too innocent. Mr Frank: did she say anything to you?

      FRANK [folding his note] She must see you, if [very expressively] you wait til she comes in.

      MRS WARREN [frightened] Why shouldn’t I wait?

      [Frank looks quizzically at her; puts his note carefully on the ink-bottle, so that Vivie cannot fail to find it when next she dips her pen; then rises and devotes his attention entirely to her.]

      FRANK. My dear Mrs Warren: suppose you were a sparrow — ever so tiny and pretty a sparrow hopping in the roadway — and you saw a steam roller coming in your direction, would you wait for it?

      MRS WARREN. Oh, don’t bother me with your sparrows. What did she run away from Haslemere like that for?

      FRANK. I’m afraid she’ll tell you if you rashly await her return.

      MRS WARREN. Do you want me to go away?

      FRANK. No: I always want you to stay. But I advise you to go away.

      MRS WARREN. What! And never see her again!

      FRANK. Precisely.

      MRS WARREN [crying again] Praddy: don’t let him be cruel to me. [She hastily checks her tears and wipes her eyes]. She’ll be so angry if she sees I’ve been crying.

      FRANK [with a touch of real compassion in his airy tenderness] You know that Praddy is the soul of kindness, Mrs Warren. Praddy: what do you say? Go or stay?

      PRAED [to Mrs Warren] I really should be very sorry to cause you unnecessary pain; but I think perhaps you had better not wait. The fact is — [Vivie is heard at the inner door].

      FRANK. Sh! Too late. She’s coming.

      MRS WARREN. Don’t tell her I was crying. [Vivie comes in. She stops gravely on seeing Mrs Warren, who greets her with hysterical cheerfulness]. Well, dearie. So here you are at last.

      VIVIE. I am glad you have come: I want to speak to you. You said you were going, Frank, I think.

      FRANK. Yes. Will you come with me, Mrs Warren? What do you say to a trip to Richmond, and the theatre in the evening? There is safety in Richmond. No steam roller there.

      VIVIE. Nonsense, Frank. My mother will stay here.

      MRS WARREN [scared] I don’t know: perhaps I’d better go. We’re disturbing you at your work.

      VIVIE [with quiet decision] Mr Praed: please take Frank away. Sit down, mother. [Mrs Warren obeys helplessly].

      PRAED. Come, Frank. Goodbye, Miss Vivie.

      VIVIE [shaking hands] Goodbye. A pleasant trip.

      PRAED. Thank you: thank you. I hope so.

      FRANK [to Mrs Warren] Goodbye: youd ever so much better have taken my advice. [He shakes hands with her. Then airily to Vivie] Byebye, Viv.

      VIVIE. Goodbye. [He goes out gaily without shaking hands with her].

      PRAED [sadly] Goodbye, Kitty.

      MRS WARREN [snivelling] — oobye!

      [Praed goes. Vivie, composed and extremely grave, sits down in Honoria’s chair, and waits for her mother to speak. Mrs Warren, dreading a pause, loses no time in beginning.]

      MRS WARREN. Well, Vivie, what did you go away like that for without saying a word to me! How could you do such a thing! And what have you done to poor George? I wanted him to come with me; but he shuffled out of it. I could see that he was quite afraid of you. Only fancy: he wanted me not to come. As if [trembling] I should be afraid of you, dearie. [Vivie’s gravity deepens]. But of course I told him it was all settled and comfortable between us, and that we were on the best of terms. [She breaks down]. Vivie: whats the meaning of this? [She produces a commercial envelope, and fumbles at the enclosure with trembling fingers]. I got it from the bank this morning.

      VIVIE. It is my month’s allowance. They sent it to me as usual the other day. I simply sent it back to be placed to your credit, and asked them to send you the lodgment receipt. In future I shall support myself.

      MRS WARREN [not daring to understand] Wasn’t it enough? Why didn’t you tell me? [With a cunning gleam in her eye] I’ll double it: I was intending to double it. Only let me know how much you want.

      VIVIE. You know very well that that has nothing to do with it. From this time I go my own way in my own business and among my own friends. And you will go yours. [She rises]. Goodbye.

      MRS WARREN [rising, appalled] Goodbye?

      VIVIE. Yes: goodbye. Come: don’t let us make a useless scene: you understand perfectly well. Sir George Crofts has told me the whole business.

      MRS WARREN [angrily] Silly old — [She swallows an epithet, and then turns white at the narrowness of her escape from uttering it].

      VIVIE. Just so.

      MRS WARREN. He ought to have his tongue cut out. But I thought it was ended: you said you didn’t mind.

      VIVIE [steadfastly] Excuse me: I do mind.

      MRS WARREN. But I explained —

      VIVIE. You explained how it came about. You did not tell me that it is still going on [She sits].

      [Mrs Warren, silenced for a moment, looks forlornly at Vivie, who waits, secretly hoping that the combat is over. But the cunning expression comes back into Mrs Warren’s face; and she bends across the table, sly and urgent, half whispering.]

      MRS WARREN. Vivie: do you know how rich I am?

      VIVIE. I have no doubt you are very rich.

      MRS WARREN. But you don’t know all that that means; youre too young. It means a new dress every day; it means theatres and balls every night; it means having the pick of all the gentlemen in