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