What's the matter now?
GERALD. I am a damned fool! Why, of course, we arranged--
BOB (sneeringly). And now you can't come on Thursday, I suppose.
GERALD. Why, you see, I arranged--
BOB. You _must_ keep your promise to the county, but you needn't keep your promise to me.
GERALD. Yes, but the trouble is I promised Pamela--oh, well, that will have to go; she'll understand. All right, Bob, that holds. Directly the match is over I come. And for the Lord's sake, keep smiling till then.
BOB. It's all very well for _you_. ... I wish you could have--well, anyhow, I suppose Thursday's better than nothing. You'll see just how it is then. (Getting up) You won't say anything about it to the others?
GERALD. Of course not. What about Pamela? Does she know anything?
BOB. She knows that I'm worried about something, but of course she doesn't know what I've told you.
GERALD. All right, then I won't tell her anything. At least, I'll just say that bananas remain firm at 127, and that I've got to go and see my broker about it. (Smiling) Something like that.
(BOB goes towards the garden, while GERALD stops to wait for PAMELA. At the door he turns round.)
BOB (awkwardly). Er--thanks. [Exit.]
(GERALD throws him a nod, as much as to say, "That's all right." He stands looking after him, gives a little sigh, laughs and says to himself, "Poor old Bob!" He is half-sitting on, half-leaning against the table, thinking it all over, when PAMELA comes in again.)
PAMELA. I waited for him to go; I knew he wanted to talk to you about something. Gerald, he is all right, isn't he?
GERALD (taking her hands). Who? Bob? Oh yes, he's all right. So is Pamela.
PAMELA. Sure?
GERALD. Oh yes, he's all right.
PAMELA. I take rather a motherly interest in Bob, you know. What was worrying him?
GERALD (smiling). His arithmetic again; compound interest. His masters are very pleased with his progress in English. And he wants more pocket-money. He says that fourpence a week doesn't give him enough scope.
PAMELA (smiling). But he really is all right?
GERALD. Well, I've got to go up on Thursday to see his House Master--I mean I've got to go up to town on Thursday.
PAMELA (drawing back). Thursday? That was _our_ day, Gerald.
GERALD. Yes, I know; it's a confounded nuisance.
PAMELA (slowly). Yes, it is rather a--nuisance.
GERALD. I'm awfully sorry, darling. I hate it just as much as you do.
PAMELA. I wonder if you do.
GERALD (shaking his head at her). Oh, woman, woman! And you asked me to be kind to Bob.
PAMELA. It is for Bob? He really does want you?
GERALD. He thinks I can help him if I go up on Thursday. (Smiling) We aren't going to quarrel about that.
PAMELA (holding out her hand to him). Come along. Of course we aren't going to quarrel--I don't think I could quarrel with you for more than five minutes. Only--you make me wonder sometimes.
GERALD (getting up and taking her arm). What do you wonder about?
PAMELA. Oh--things.
[They go out into the garden together.]
ACT II
[It is a quiet old-fashioned hotel which SIR JAMES and LADY FARRINGDON patronize in Dover Street on their occasional visits to London. Their private sitting-room is furnished in heavy early Victorian style. A couple of gloomy palms help to decorate the room, on whose walls are engravings of Landseer's masterpieces.]
[MASON, a faithful kindly body, once nurse, now familiar servant, is at the table arranging flowers, in a gallant attempt to make the room more cheerful. As she fills each vase she takes it to its place, steps back to consider the effect, and returns to fill the next one. GERALD, in London clothes as attractive as ever, but looking none rather serious, discovers her at work.]
GERALD. Hullo, Nanny, when did you come?
MASON. This morning, sir. Her ladyship telegraphed for me.
GERALD (smiling affectionately at her). Whenever there's any trouble about, we send for Nanny. I wonder she ever came to London without you.
MASON. I told her I'd better come, but she wouldn't listen to me. Dear, dear! there _is_ trouble about now Master Gerald.
GERALD. Yes.
MASON. I thought a few flowers would cheer us up. I said to Mr. Underhill before I started, "Give me some flowers to take with me," I said, "so that I can make the place look more homey and comfortable for her ladyship."
GERALD. And you have. No one like Nanny for that.
MASON (timidly). Is there any news of Master Bob this morning? Of course, we've all been reading about it in the papers. They're not going to send him to prison?
GERALD. I'm afraid they are.
MASON. Dear, dear! (She goes on arranging the flowers.) He's not in prison now?
GERALD. No; he's on bail for the moment. Perhaps he'll be round here for lunch. But I'm afraid that to-night--
MASON. Even as a baby he was never quite like you, Master Gerald. Never was there such a little lamb as you. How long will they send him to prison for?
GERALD. We don't know yet; I expect we shall know this evening. But there's no doubt which way the case is going.
MASON. Two of the men were making their bets about it over the supper-table last night. I didn't wait long before giving them a piece of my mind, I can promise you.
GERALD (turning round sharply). Who were they? Out they go to-morrow.
MASON. That wouldn't be quite fair, would it, sir? They're young and thoughtless like.
GERALD (to himself rather than to her). After all, it's only what everybody
