else has been doing.
MASON. It wouldn't be anything very bad that Master Bob has done?
GERALD (emphatically). No, Nanny. No. Nothing bad; only--stupid.
MASON. I didn't know they put you in prison for being stupid. Some of us have been lucky.
GERALD. They can put you in prison for everything Nanny--being stupid or being wise, being bad or being good, being poor or--yes, or being rich.
MASON (putting her last touches to the flowers). There! Now it looks much more like what her ladyship's used to. If you aren't sent to prison for being bad, it doesn't seem to matter so much.
GERALD. Well--it isn't nice, you know.
MASON. There's lots of things that aren't nice in the world. They haven't come _your_ way yet, and I only hope they never will.
GERALD. I wish they hadn't come Bob's way.
MASON. Ah, Master Bob was born to meet them. Well, I'll go up to her ladyship now.
GERALD. Oh, are they back?
MASON. Sir James and her ladyship came back from the police-station--
GERALD. The Old Bailey, Nanny.
MASON. They came back about ten minutes ago, Master Gerald. And went up to their rooms.
GERALD. Tell mother I'm here, will you?
MASON. Yes, Sir.
(She goes out and comes back almost at once with PAMELA.)
MASON. Here's Miss Pamela. (To PAMELA) I was just saying that her ladyship will be down directly.
GERALD (smiling). Not too directly now, Nanny.
MASON. No, Master Gerald. [Exit.]
GERALD. Pamela! Have you just come up?
PAMELA. Mother and I are staying with Aunt Judith. Oh, Gerald! Poor, poor Bob!
GERALD. Have you seen him?
PAMELA. He came down to us last week, and he has been writing the most heart-rending letters.
GERALD. You're a dear to be so good to him.
PAMELA. How can one help it? Oh, Gerald, he _has_ been stupid! How he could have gone on as he did, hating it all, understanding nothing, but feeling all the time that things were wrong, and yet too proud or too obstinate to ask for help--hadn't you any idea, _any_ of you?
GERALD (awkwardly). You never could get him to talk about the City at all. If you asked him, he changed the subject.
PAMELA (reproachfully). Ah! but how did you ask him? Lightly? Jokingly? "Hullo, Rothschild, how's the City getting on?" That sort of way. You didn't really mind.
GERALD (smiling). Well, if it comes to that, he didn't much mind how I was getting on at the Foreign Office. He never even said, "Hullo, Grey, how are Balkans?"
PAMELA. You had plenty of people to say that; Bob was different. I think I was the first person he really talked to about himself. That was before I met you. I begged him then to get out of it-- little knowing. I wonder if it would have made any difference if you had gone up with him on--Oh, well, it doesn't matter now.
GERALD (defensively). What were you going to say?
PAMELA. Nothing. (Looking at him thoughtfully) Poor Gerald! it's been bad for you too.
GERALD. You're not making it better by suggesting that I've let Bob down in some way--I don't quite know how.
PAMELA (in distress). Oh, Gerald, don't be angry with me--I don't want to hurt you. But I can only think of Bob now. You're so--you want so little; Bob wants so much. Why doesn't he come? I sent a note round to his rooms to say that I'd be here. Doesn't he have lunch here? Oh, Gerald, suppose the case is over, and they've taken him to prison, and I've never said good-bye to him. He said it wouldn't be over till this evening, but how would he know? Oh, I can't bear it if they've taken him away, and his only friend never said good-bye to him.
GERALD. Pamela, Pamela, don't be so silly. It's all right, dear; of course I'm not angry with you. And of course Bob will be here. I rang up Wentworth an hour ago, and he said the case can't end till this evening.
PAMELA (recovering). Sorry, Gerald, I'm being rather a fool.
GERALD (taking her hands). You're being--(There is a knock at the door, and he turns round impatiently) Oh, what is it?
[Enter MASON.]
MASON (handing note). There's a telephone message been waiting for you, sir. And her ladyship will be down directly.
GERALD. Thank you, Nanny. [Exit MASON.] (To PAMELA) May I? (He reads it) Oh, I say, this is rather--this is from Wentworth. He's taken Bob round to lunch with him.
PAMELA (going towards the door). I must go, Gerald. Mr. Wentworth won't mind.
GERALD (stopping her). Look here, dear, it's going to be quite all right. Wentworth rang up from his rooms; they're probably halfway through lunch by now, and they'll be round in ten minutes.
PAMELA. Supposing he doesn't come? Supposing he didn't get my note? It may be waiting for him in his rooms now.
GERALD. All right, then, darling, I'll ring him up.
PAMELA (determined). No. I'll do it. Yes, Gerald, I know how to manage him. It isn't only that I must see him myself, but if-- (bravely) if the case is to be over this evening, and if what we fear is going to happen, he must--oh, he must say good-bye to his mother too.
GERALD. Well, if that's all, I'll tell him.
PAMELA. He mightn't come for you. He will for me; No, Gerald; I mean it. None of you understand him. I do.
GERALD. But supposing he's already started and you miss him?
PAMELA. I'll telephone to him at his rooms. Oh, _don't_ stand there talking--
GERALD (opening the door for her). Oh, well! But I think you're-- [She has gone.]
(He walks up and down the room absently, picking up papers and putting them down. MASON comes in and arranges the sofa R.)
MASON. Miss Pamela gone, Master Gerald?
