The Greatest Plays of William Somerset Maugham. Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

      John.

      I told them it was improper for more than one woman at a time to call at a bachelor's rooms, Basil.

      Basil.

      If you'd warned me I'd have made the show a bit tidier.

      Mabel.

      Oh, that's just what we didn't want. We wanted to see the Celebrity at Home, without lime-light.

      Basil.

      [Ironically.] You're too flattering.

      Mabel.

      By the way, how is the book?

      Basil.

      Quite well, thanks.

      Mabel.

      I always forget to ask how it's getting on.

      Basil.

      On the contrary, you never let slip an opportunity of making kind inquiries.

      Mabel.

      I don't believe you've written a word of it.

      Hilda.

      Nonsense, Mabel. I've read it.

      Mabel.

      Oh, but you're such a monster of discretion.... Now I want to see your medals, Mr. Kent.

      Basil.

      [Smiling.] What medals?

      Mabel.

      Don't be coy! You know I mean the medals they gave you for going to the Cape.

      Basil.

      [Gets them from a drawer, and with a smile hands them to Mabel.] If you really care to see them, here they are.

      Mabel.

      [Taking one.] What's this?

      Basil.

      Oh, that's just the common or garden South African medal.

      Mabel.

      And the other one?

      Basil.

      That's the D.S.M.

      Mabel.

      Why didn't they give you the D.S.O.?

      Basil.

      Oh, I was only a trooper, you know. They only give the D.S.O. to officers.

      Mabel.

      And what did you do to deserve it?

      Basil.

      [Smiling.] I really forget.

      Hilda.

      It's given for distinguished service in the field, Mabel.

      Mabel.

      I knew. Only I wanted to see if Mr. Kent was modest or vain.

      Basil.

      [With a smile, taking the medals from her and putting them away.] How spiteful of you!

      Mabel.

      John, why didn't you go to the Cape, and do heroic things?

      John.

      I confined my heroism to the British Isles. I married you, my angel.

      Mabel.

      Is that funny or vulgar?

      Basil.

      [Laughing.] Are there no more questions you want to ask me, Mrs. Halliwell?

      Mabel.

      Yes, I want to know why you live up six flights of stairs.

      Basil.

      [Amused.] For the view, simply and solely.

      Mabel.

      But, good heavens, there is no view. There are only chimney-pots.

      Basil.

      But they're most æsthetic chimney-pots. Do come and look, Mrs. Murray. [Basil and Hilda approach one of the windows, and he opens it.] And at night they're so mysterious. They look just like strange goblins playing on the house-tops. And you can't think how gorgeous the sunsets are: sometimes, after the rain, the slate roofs glitter like burnished gold. [To Hilda.] Often I think I couldn't have lived without my view, it says such wonderful things to me. [Turning to Mabel gaily.] Scoff, Mrs. Halliwell, I'm on the verge of being sentimental.

      Mabel.

      I was wondering if you'd made that up on the spur of the moment, or if you'd fished it out of an old note-book.

      Hilda.

      [With a look at Basil.] May I go out?

      Basil.

      Yes, do come.

      [Hilda and Basil step out on the balcony, whereupon John goes to Mabel and tries to steal a kiss from her.

      Mabel.

      [Springing up.] Go away, you horror!

      John.

      Don't be silly. I shall kiss you if I want to.

      [She laughing, walks round the sofa while he pursues her.

      Mabel.

      I wish you'd treat life more seriously.

      John.

      I wish you wouldn't wear such prominent hats.

      Mabel.

      [As he puts his arm round her waist.] John, some body'll see us.

      John.

      Mabel, I command you to let yourself be kissed.

      Mabel.

      How much will you give me?

      John.

      Sixpence.

      Mabel.

      [Slipping away from him.] I can't do it for less than half-a-crown.

      John.

      [Laughing.] I'll give you two shillings.

      Mabel.

      [Coaxing.] Make it two-and-three.

      [He kisses her.

      John.

      Now come and sit down quietly.

      Mabel.

      [Sitting down by his side.] John, you mustn't make love to me. It would look so odd if they came in.

      John.

      After all, I am your husband.

      Mabel.

      That's just it. If you wanted to make love to me you ought to have married somebody else. [He puts his arm round her waist.] John, don't, I'm sure they'll come in.

      John.

      I don't care if they do.

      Mabel.

      [Sighing.] John, you do love me?

      John.

      Yes.

      Mabel.

      And you won't ever care for anybody else?

      John.

      No.

      Mabel.

      [In the same tone.] And you will give me that two-and-threepence, won't you?

      John.

      Mabel, it was only two shillings.

      Mabel.

      Oh, you cheat!

      John.