Pause.
I suppose you loved her more than I did?
KIT. Loved her? I still do love her, damn it.
ROGERS. But you can’t, now that you know what you do.
KIT. What difference does that make? I love her face, I love the way she walks, I love her voice, I love her figure. None of that has changed.
ROGERS. (Sympathetically.) Poor boy. It’s simpler for me though it’s far more of a shock. You see, what I loved about her was her character.
Pause.
KIT. You used to kiss her, I suppose?
ROGERS. (Sadly.) Oh, yes.
KIT. You didn’t – you didn’t – ?
ROGERS. (Severely.) I loved her for her character. (After a pause.) Did you?
KIT. Well, no, not really.
ROGERS. I see.
Pause.
KIT. What are we going to do?
ROGERS. We’d better face her together. We’ll ask her point-blank which of us she really does love.
KIT. If she says me, I’m done for.
ROGERS. But you won’t believe her?
KIT. I’ll know she’s lying, but I’ll believe her all the same.
ROGERS. Well, supposing she says me?
KIT. That’s my only hope.
ROGERS. Then, for your sake, I hope she says me.
KIT. That’s terribly kind of you, Bill. I say, I may call you Bill, mayn’t I?
ROGERS. Oh, my dear Kit.
Pause.
You know, what I feel like doing is to go out and get very drunk.
KIT. Suppose we go and throw ourselves into the sea instead.
ROGERS. I think my idea is better.
KIT. Yes, perhaps you’re right. Then let’s start now.
ROGERS. You can’t go out like that, my dear Kit.
KIT. Then let’s go to the Casino.
ROGERS. I haven’t got anything to wear.
KIT. (Holding out tunic.) Wear this over your flannels.
ROGERS. All right. Help me put it on.
ALAN and BRIAN come in. KIT is buttoning up ROGERS’ tunic. They both stop in amazement.
ALAN. What on earth – ?
KIT. (Excitedly.) Bill and I are going to the Casino, Alan. You’ve got to come, too.
ALAN. Bill and you? What is this? Some new sort of game?
KIT. Go and put something on. You come, too, Brian.
BRIAN. No, old boy. Not me.
KIT. Go on, Alan. We want to get out of the house before Diana arrives. Where is she, by the way?
ROGERS. Who cares!
KIT laughs.
ALAN. (Scratching his head.) Let me get this straight. You want me to come to the Ball with you and the Commander –
KIT. Don’t call him the Commander, Alan. His name is Bill.
ALAN. Bill?
KIT. Yes, Bill. He’s one of the best fellows in the world.
ROGERS. We’re going to get drunk together, aren’t we, Kit?
ALAN. Kit?
KIT. Screaming drunk, Bill.
ALAN. (Dashing to door.) I won’t be a minute.
Exit ALAN.
BRIAN. This sounds like a party.
KIT. Brian, tell me how I can get hold of your Chi-Chi? Is she going to the Casino tonight?
BRIAN. Yes, old boy.
KIT. How can I recognise her?
BRIAN. I don’t think you can miss her. She’s not likely to miss you, anyway, if you go into the bar alone.
KIT. Has she got a good figure?
BRIAN. I like it, but I’m easy to please. From sideways on it’s a bit S-shaped, if you know what I mean.
ALAN comes down, wearing his German coat.
ALAN. I shall probably be lynched in this thing.
KIT. Come on. Let’s go.
They go to the window. KIT with his arm across ROGERS’ shoulder.
BRIAN. Hi! Wait a minute. What am I to tell Diana?
They stop.
ROGERS. Tell her we’re being cruel only to be kind.
KIT. Tell her to be careful she doesn’t go treading on any snails.
ALAN. Just tell her to go to hell. That leaves no room for doubt.
They go out. BRIAN gazes after them as the curtain falls.
Act Three, Scene One
Scene: the same. Time: A few hours later.
The curtain rises to disclose ALAN on the sofa, KIT in the armchair, ROGERS on the floor by the end of the sofa, each smoking a cigar. They are still in the clothes in which they had gone to the Casino. ROGERS is half asleep.
KIT. (Drowsily.) I don’t agree with you. I don’t agree with you at all. You can’t judge women by our standards of Right and Wrong.
ALAN. They have none of their own, so how can you judge them.
KIT. Why judge them at all. There they are – all of them, I grant you, behaving absolutely nohow – still, that’s what they’re for, I mean they’re built that way, and you’ve just got to take them or leave them. I’ll take them.
ROGERS. (Murmuring dreamily.) I’ll take vanilla.
KIT. Now, you tell me that Diana’s a cow. All right, I shan’t deny it. I shall only say that I, personally, like cows.
ALAN. But you can like them without loving them. I mean, love is only sublimated sex, isn’t it?
ROGERS. (Rousing himself a little.) Devilish funny thing – my old friend Freud, the last time I met him, said exactly the same thing. Bill, old man, he said, take my word for it, love is only sublimated sex. (Composing himself for sleep again.) That’s what Old Freudie said.
ALAN. I fear that Bill is what he’d describe himself as half seas over.
KIT. He’s lucky. The more I drank up at that foul Casino the more sober I became. What were you saying about sublimated sex?
ALAN. Only that if that’s what you feel for Diana, why sublimate?
KIT. Ah! Because she’s clever enough to give me no choice.
ALAN. How simple everything would be if that sort of so-called virtue were made illegal – if it were just a question of will you or won’t you.
ROGERS’ head falls back on to the chair.
No one ought to be allowed to get away with that – ‘I’d like to but I mustn’t’. It’s that that leads to all the trouble. The Commander has now definitely passed out. You know (excitedly) I like him, Kit. It’s quite amazing how pleasant he is when you get to know him.
A slight smile appears on ROGERS’ face.
KIT. Yes, I know.
ALAN. Do you realise that if it hadn’t been for Diana, we’d probably have gone on disliking him for ever?
KIT. Yes. We’ve got to be grateful to her for that.
ALAN. I wonder why we disliked him so much before tonight.
ROGERS. (From a horizontal position.) I’ll tell you.
ALAN. Good lord! I thought you’d passed out.
ROGERS. Officers in the Royal Navy never pass out.
ALAN. They just fall on the floor in an alcoholic stupor, I suppose?
ROGERS. Exactly.
KIT. Well, tell us why we disliked you so much.
ROGERS. Right.
ALAN helps him to a sitting position.
Because you all made up your mind to dislike me before I ever came into this house. All except Diana, that’s to say. From the moment I arrived, you all treated me as if I were some interesting old relic of a bygone age. I’ve never known such an unfriendly lot of blighters as you all were.
ALAN. We thought you were a bumptious bore.
ROGERS. Oh, I may have seemed a bortious bump, but that was only because I was in a blue funk of you all. Here was I who’d never been away from my ship for more than a few days at a time, suddenly plumped down in a house full of strange people, all talking either French, which I couldn’t understand, or your own brand of English, which was almost as hard, and all convinced I was a half-wit. Of course I was in a blue funk.
ALAN. Well, I’m damned.
ROGERS. As a matter of fact, I liked you all.
ALAN. Oh, that’s very gratifying.
ROGERS. I didn’t agree with most of your opinions, but I enjoyed listening to them. I wanted to discuss them with you, but I was never given the chance. You all seemed to think that because I was in the Navy I was incapable of consecutive thought – I say, whisky doesn’t half loosen the old tongue.
ALAN. But you always seemed so aggressive.
ROGERS. I was only defending myself. You attacked first, you know.
ALAN. (Contritely.) I’m terribly sorry.
ROGERS. That’s all right. As a matter of fact it’s done me a lot of good being here. One gets into a bit of a rut, you know, in the Service. One’s apt to forget that there are some people in the world who have different ideas and opinions to one’s own. You’ll find the same in the diplomatic.
ALAN. I know. That’s one of the reasons I want to chuck it.
ROGERS. Will you let me give you a bit of advice about that? I’ve been wanting to for a long time, but I’ve always been afraid you’d bite my head off if I did.
ALAN. Of course.
ROGERS. Well, chuck it. Go and do your writing.
ALAN looks surprised. He takes a deep puff at his cigar.
ALAN. I’d go back to England tomorrow, only – (He stops.)
ROGERS. Only what?
ALAN. I don’t know if I can write, for one thing.
ROGERS. It’s ten to one you can’t, but I shouldn’t let that stop you. If it’s what you want to do, I should do it.
ALAN. That isn’t the real reason.
ROGERS. You haven’t got the guts, is that it?
ALAN. That isn’t quite my way of putting it, but I suppose it’s true. I can’t bring myself to make a definite decision. I’m afraid of my father, of course. But it’s not only that. I admit that there are a dozen things I’d rather do than the diplomatic. It’s an exciting world at the moment. Do you know, sometimes I think I’ll go and fight. There must be a war on somewhere.
ROGERS. I thought you were a pacifist?
ALAN. Oh, what the hell? – I shall become a diplomat.
ROGERS. You’ll be a damned bad one.
ALAN. I can adapt myself.
ROGERS. (Rising, yawning.) Well, I’ve given you my advice for what it’s worth. I shall now go to bed to sleep the sleep of the very drunk.
ALAN. You mustn’t go yet. You’ve got to wait for Diana.
ROGERS. (With a magnificent gesture.) Diana – pooh!
ALAN. It’s all very well for you to say ‘Diana – pooh’, but this weak-kneed, jelly-livered protoplasm here is still in her clutches.
KIT. (Who has been musing.) Are you referring to me?
ALAN. Diana’s only got to raise her little finger and he’ll go rushing back to her, screaming to be forgiven.
ROGERS. Then we must stop her raising her little finger.
ALAN. Exactly. That’s why we must face her together.
ROGERS. (Sitting heavily.) The United Front. We must scupper her with a plunging salvo.
ALAN. Oh, no, don’t let’s do that.
KIT. (Dismally.) She’s only got to say she still loves me.
ALAN. My dear Kit, if she has to choose between you and Bill, she’ll choose you. You’re younger, you’re better-looking, and you’ve got more money. Don’t you agree, Bill?
ROGERS. He’s certainly younger and he’s certainly got more money.
ALAN. (To KIT.) You must be firm, you must be strong. If you show any weakness, you’ll be a traitor to our sex.
ROGERS. By jove, yes. We must put up a good show in this engagement.
KIT. It’s all very well for you to talk. You don’t know –
ALAN. Haven’t I resisted her attacks for a whole month?
KIT. They were only little skirmishes. You don’t know what it is to receive the whole brunt of her attack. It’s quite hopeless. You can help me as much as you like, but if she attacks me directly, I shall go under, I know that.
ALAN. Do you hear that, Commander? I submit that he be tried for Extreme Cowardice in the face of the Enemy.
ROGERS. The Court finds the prisoner guilty. (Rising with dignity.) Mr. Neilan, I must call upon you to surrender your trousers. Ah? I see you have come into court without them. Very well, I have no option but to ask you for your skirt.
KIT. Come and get it.
ROGERS. I’ve been longing to get my hands on that damn thing all the evening. Come on, Alan.
KIT leaps out of his chair, and runs across the room pursued by ROGERS and ALAN. He is cornered and there is a scuffle. DIANA, stately and sad, comes through the French windows. She stands in the doorway for some five seconds before ROGERS sees her.
ROGERS. Crikey! (He taps the two others on the shoulders and they straighten themselves.)
There is a rather nervous silence.
DIANA. (Coming into the room.) Well – I hope you all enjoyed yourselves at the Casino.
ROGERS. (After glancing at the others.) Oh, yes. Thanks very much.
DIANA. Brian gave me a message from you which I found rather hard to understand. Perhaps you’d explain it now.
Pause. ALAN looks inquiringly from KIT to ROGERS. ROGERS looks appealingly at ALAN.
ALAN. Well, who is to fire the first shot of the salvo?
No answer.
Come, come, gentlemen.
No answer.
Very well, I must engage the enemy on your behalf. Diana, these two gentlemen have good reason to believe that you have been trifling with their affections. You have told Kit that you are in love with him and are bored by Bill, and you have told Bill that you are in love with him and are bored by Kit. So now they naturally want to know who exactly you are in love with and who exactly you are bored by.
ROGERS. (Nodding vigorously.) Yes, that’s right.
DIANA. (With scorn.) Oh, do they?
ALAN. Are you going to answer their question?
DIANA. Certainly not. Whom I love and whom I don’t love is entirely my own affair. I’ve never heard such insolence.
ALAN. (Turning to ROGERS and KIT, chuckling.) Insolence! She’s good, this girl, she’s very good.
DIANA. (Patiently.) May I please be allowed to go to my room?
ALAN. (Barring her way.) Not until you’ve answered our question.
DIANA. I think you’d better let me go.
ALAN. Just as soon as you’ve given a straight answer to a straight question.
Pause. DIANA at length takes a step back.
DIANA. All right. You want to know who I’m in love with. Well, I’ll tell you. (To ALAN.) I’m in love with you.
ALAN recoils. There is a dead silence.
DIANA brushes past ALAN. He seizes her wrist.
DIANA. Good night!
ALAN drops his hands and steps back. He falls limply into a chair. DIANA goes out.
ROGERS. (Scratching his head.) Now will someone tell me, was our engagement a success?
ALAN. (Bitterly.) A success? (Groaning.) Oh, what a girl, what a girl!
KIT. (Gloomily.) It was a success as far as I’m concerned.
Pause.
ALAN. I’m frightened. I’m really frightened.
ROGERS. What? (Sternly.) Alan, I never thought to hear such words from you.
ALAN. I can’t help it. I shall fall. Oh, God! I know it, I shall fall.
ROGERS. You must be firm. You must be strong. The United Front must not be broken.
ALAN. I want you to promise me something, you two. You must never, never leave me alone with that girl.
ROGERS. That sounds like rank cowardice.
ALAN. Cowardice be damned! You don’t realise the appalling danger I’m in. If I’m left alone with her for a minute, I shudder to think what might happen. She might even (in a whisper) marry me.
ROGERS. Oh, not that.
ALAN. It’s true. God help me. I think she may easily try to marry me. (Turning imploringly to the others.) So you see, you can’t desert me now. Don’t let me out of your sight for a second. Even if I beg you on my knees to leave me alone with her,
don’t do it. Will you promise?
ROGERS. I promise.
ALAN. And you, Kit?
KIT. (Nods.) All right.
ALAN. Thank you. I’ve only got three weeks before the exam, but that’s a long time with Diana in the house.
ROGERS. I think your hope lies in this Lord Heybrook fellow who’s coming tomorrow. She may easily find that a peer in hand is worth more than one in the vague future. (Getting up.) I shall go to bed. Good night, Alan. You have my best wishes. (At door.) Don’t go down to breakfast tomorrow until I come and fetch you. Good night, Kit. (He goes out.)
ALAN. There’s a real friend. I hope you’re going to show the same self-sacrifice.
KIT. I don’t know what you’re making all the fuss about. You ought to be very happy.
ALAN. Happy? (Sarcastically.) I’ve noticed how happy you’ve been these last few weeks.
KIT. I have in a way.
ALAN. That’s not my way. Damn it, Kit, I’m a man with principles and ideals. I’m a romantic. Let me give you a little word-picture of the girl I should like to fall in love with. Then you can tell how far it resembles Diana. First of all, she must not be a cow.
KIT. (Shrugging indifferently.) Oh, well, of course –
ALAN. Secondly, she will be able to converse freely and intelligently with me on all subjects – Politics – Philosophy – Religion – Thirdly, she will have all the masculine virtues and none of the feminine vices. Fourthly, she will be physically unattractive enough to keep her faithful to me, and attractive enough to make me desire her. Fifthly, she will be in love with me. That’s all, I think.
KIT. You don’t want much, do you? I admit it isn’t a close description of Diana, but where on earth do you expect to find this love-dream?
ALAN. They do exist, you know. There’s someone here, in this house, who answers to all the qualifications, except the last.
KIT. (Sitting forward.) Good lord! You don’t mean Jack, do you?
ALAN. Why not?
KIT. But – but you couldn’t be in love with Jack.
ALAN. I’m not, but she’s exactly the sort of girl I should like to be in love with.
KIT. (Smiling.) Love and Jack. They just don’t seem to connect. I’m frightfully fond of her, but somehow – I don’t know – I mean you couldn’t kiss her or make love to her.
ALAN. Why not try it and see?
KIT. Who? Me? Good lord, no.
ALAN. Don’t you think she’s attractive?
KIT. Yes, I suppose she is, in a way, very attractive. But don’t you see, Alan, I know her far too well to start any hanky-panky. She’d just scream with laughter.
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