time. Whenever you are unhappy or depressed or angry, you must look forward to that day.
BOB. You'll let it be a fine day, won't you? What shall we do?
PAMELA (rather startled). What?
BOB. What shall we do directly after I come out?
PAMELA. Well, I suppose we--I mean you--well, we'll come up to London together, I suppose, and you'll go to your old rooms. At least, if you still have them.
BOB (instantly depressed again). My old rooms. That'll be lively.
PAMELA. Well, unless you'd rather--
BOB. I'm not going home, if that's what you mean. The prodigal son, and Gerald falling on my neck.
PAMELA (stroking his head). Never mind Gerald, Baby. (He turns round suddenly and seizes her hands.)
BOB (in a rush). Whatever happens, you mustn't desert me when I come out. I want you. I've got to know you're there, waiting for me. I'm not making love to you, you're engaged to somebody else, but you were my friend before you were his, and you've got to go on being my friend. I want you--I want you more than he does. I'm not making love to you; you can marry him if you like, but you've got to stand by me. I want you.
PAMELA. Haven't I stood by you?
BOB (in a low voice). You've been an angel. (He kisses her hands and then gets up and walks away from her; with his back to her, looking out of the window, he says) When are you marrying him?
PAMELA (taken by surprise). I--I don't know, Bob. We _had_ thought about--but, of course, things are different now. We haven't talked about it lately.
BOB (casually). I wonder if you'd mind promising me something.
PAMELA. What is it?
BOB. Not to get married till after I come out. (After waiting for PAMELA to speak) You will have about forty years together afterwards. It isn't much to ask.
PAMELA. Why should it make a difference to you?
BOB. It would.
PAMELA. It isn't a thing I like making promises about. But I don't suppose for a moment--Would it help you very much, Bob?
BOB (from the bottom of his heart). I don't want Gerald's wife to be waiting for me when I come out; I want my friend.
PAMELA (standing up and facing him as he turns round towards her). All right, Bob, she shall be there.
(They stand looking at each other intently for a moment. Voices are heard outside, and SIR JAMES, LADY FARRINGDON, and GERALD come into the room.)
ACT III
[SCENE.--In the hall at SIR JAMES FARRINGDON'S again. It is autumn nom and there is a fire burning.]
[LETTY and TOMMY are on the sofa side by side, holding hands, and looking the picture of peaceful happiness. Indeed, TOMMY has his mouth open slightly.]
LETTY. It's your turn to say something, Tommy.
TOMMY. Oh, I say.
LETTY. Now I suppose it's my turn.
TOMMY. I say, you know, I feel too idiotically happy to say anything. I feel I want to talk poetry, or rot like that, only-- only I don't quite know how to put it.
LETTY (sympathetically). Never mind, darling.
TOMMY. I say, you do understand how frightfully--I say, what about another kiss? (They have one.)
LETTY. Tommy, I just adore you. Only I think you might have been a little more romantic about your proposal.
TOMMY (anxious). I say, do you--
LETTY. Yes. Strictly speaking, I don't think anybody ought to propose with a niblick in his hand.
TOMMY. It just sort of came then. Of course I ought to have put it down.
LETTY. You dear! ... "Letting his niblick go for a moment, Mr. T. Todd went on as follows: 'Letitia, my beloved, many moons have waxed and waned since first I cast eyes of love upon thee. An absence of ducats, coupled with the necessity of getting my handicap down to ten, has prevented my speaking ere this. Now at last I am free. My agd uncle--'"
TOMMY (lovingly). I say, you do pull my leg. Go on doing it always, won't you?
LETTY. Always, Tommy. We're going to have fun, always.
TOMMY. I'm awfully glad we got engaged down here.
LETTY. We've had lovely times here, haven't we?
TOMMY. I wonder what Gerald will say. A bit of a surprise for him. I say, it would be rather fun if we had a double wedding. You and I, and Gerald and Pamela.
LETTY (getting up in pretended indignation). Certainly not!
TOMMY (following her). I say, what's the matter?
LETTY (waving him back). Go away. Unhand me villain.
TOMMY. I say, what's up?
LETTY. I want a wedding of my own. I've never been married before, and perhaps I shall never be married again, and I'm going to have a wedding all to myself. I don't mind your being there, but I'm not going to have crowds of other brides and bridegrooms taking up the whole aisle--said she, seizing her engagement-ring and--Oh, bother! I haven't got one yet.
(TOMMY rushes up and takes her in his arms. At this moment GERALD comes in by the garden door. He stops on seeing them, and then goes quickly on to the door in front of the staircase.)
GERALD (as he passes them). Came in and went tactfully out again.
TOMMY (as LETTY frees herself). I say, Gerald, old man.
GERALD (stopping at the door, turning round and coming back in the same business-like way). Returned hopefully.
TOMMY (in confusion). I say, we're engaged.
GERALD (looking at them happily). Oh, hoo-ray!
LETTY. Do say you're surprised.
GERALD. Awfully, awfully pleased, Letty. Of course, when I saw you-- er--thinking together in a corner--By Jove, I _am_ bucked. I did hope so much.
LETTY.
