THE COLLECTED PLAYS OF W. SOMERSET MAUGHAM. Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

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THE COLLECTED PLAYS OF W. SOMERSET MAUGHAM - Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

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little awkwardly.] Oh—I always have an extra cup in case some one turns up, you know.

      Mabel.

      How unselfish! And do you always have such expensive cake?

      Hilda.

      [With a smile, remonstrating.] Mabel!

      Mabel.

      Oh, but I know them well, and I love them dearly. They cost two shillings at the Army and Navy Stores, but I can't afford them myself.

      John.

      I wish you'd explain why we've come, or Basil will think I'm responsible.

      Mabel.

      [Lightly.] I've been trying to remember ever since we arrived. You say it, Hilda; you invented it.

      Hilda.

      [With a laugh.] Mabel, I'll never take you out again. They're perfectly incorrigible, Mr. Kent.

      Basil.

      [To John and Mabel, smiling.] I don't know why you've come. Mrs. Murry has promised to come and have tea with me for ages.

      Mabel.

      [Pretending to feel injured.] Well, you needn't turn me out the moment we arrive. Besides, I refuse to go till I've had a piece of that cake.

      Basil.

      Well, here's the tea! [Mrs. Griggs brings it in as he speaks. He turns to Hilda.] I wish you'd pour it out. I'm so clumsy.

      Hilda.

      [Smiling at him affectionately.] I shall be delighted.

      [She proceeds to do so, and the conversation goes on while Basil hands Mabel tea and cake.

      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

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