(trying her theatrical method in a milder form — reasonable and impulsively goodnatured instead of tragic). I know I was wrong to act as I did last night. I beg your pardon. I am sorry. I was mad.
GRACE. Not a bit mad. You calculated to an inch how far you could go. When he is present to stand between us and play out the scene with you, I count for nothing. When we are alone you fall back on your natural way of getting anything you want — crying for it like a baby until it is given to you.
JULIA (with unconcealed hatred). You learnt this from him.
GRACE. I learnt it from yourself, last night and now. How I hate to be a woman when I see, by you, what wretched childish creatures we are! Those two men would cut you dead and have you turned out of the club if you were a man and had behaved in such a way before them. But because you are only a woman, they are forbearing, sympathetic, gallant — Oh, if you had a scrap of selfrespect, their indulgence would make you creep all over. I understand now why Charteris has no respect for women.
JULIA. How dare you say that?
GRACE. Dare! I love him. And I have refused his offer to marry me.
JULIA (incredulous but hopeful). You have refused!
GRACE. Yes: because I will not give myself to any man who has learnt how to treat women from you and your like. I can do without his love, but not without his respect; and it is your fault that I cannot have both. Take his love then; and much good may it do you! Run to him and beg him to have mercy on you and take you back.
JULIA. Oh, what a liar you are! He loved me before he ever saw you — before he ever dreamt of you, you pitiful thing. Do you think I need go down on my knees to men to make them come to me? That may be your experience, you creature with no figure: it is not mine. There are dozens of men who would give their souls for a look from me. I have only to lift my finger.
GRACE. Lift it then; and see whether he will come.
JULIA. How I should like to kill you! I don’t know why I don’t.
GRACE. Yes: you like to get out of your difficulties cheaply — at other people’s expense. It is something to boast of, isn’t it, that dozens of men would make love to you if you invited them?
JULIA (sullenly). I suppose it’s better to be like you, with a cold heart and a serpent’s tongue. Thank Heaven, I have a heart: that is why you can hurt me as I cannot hurt you. And you are a coward. You are giving him up to me without a struggle.
GRACE. Yes, it is for you to struggle. I wish you success. (She turns away contemptuously and is going to the dining-room door when Sylvia enters on the opposite side, followed by Cuthbertson and Craven, who come to Julia, whilst Sylvia crosses to Grace.)
SYLVIA. Here I am, sent by the faithful Paramore. He hinted that I’d better bring the elder members of the family too: here they are. What’s the row?
GRACE (quietly). Nothing, dear. There’s no row.
JULIA (hysterically, tottering and stretching out her arms to Craven). Daddy!
CRAVEN (taking her in his arms). My precious! What’s the matter?
JULIA (through her tears). She’s going to have me expelled from the club; and we shall all be disgraced. Can she do it, Daddy?
CRAVEN. Well, really, the rules of this club are so extraordinary that I don’t know. (To Grace.) May I ask, Mrs. Tranfield, whether you have any complaint to make of my daughter’s conduct?
GRACE. Yes, Colonel Craven. I am going to complain to the committee.
SYLVIA. I knew you’d overdo it some day, Julia. (Craven, at a loss, looks at Cuthbertson.)
CUTHBERTSON. Don’t look at me, Dan. Within these walls a father’s influence counts for nothing.
CRAVEN. May I ask the ground of complaint, Mrs. Tranfield?
GRACE. Simply that Miss Craven is essentially a womanly woman, and, as such, not eligible for membership.
JULIA. It’s false. I’m not a womanly woman. I was guaranteed when I joined just as you were.
GRACE. By Mr. Charteris, I think, at your own request. I shall call him as a witness to your thoroughly womanly conduct just now in his presence and Dr. Paramore’s.
CRAVEN. Cuthbertson: are they joking; or am I dreaming?
CUTHBERTSON (grimly). It’s real, Dan: you’re awake.
SYLVIA (taking Craven’s left arm and hugging it affectionately). Dear old Rip Van Winkle!
CRAVEN. Well, Mrs. Tranfield, all I can say is that I hope you will succeed in establishing your complaint, and that Julia may soon see the last of this most outrageous institution. (Sylvia, still caressing his arm, laughs at him; Charteris returns.)
CHARTERIS (at the door). May I come in?
SYLVIA (releasing the Colonel). Yes: you’re wanted here as a witness. (Charteris comes in.) It’s a bad case of womanliness.
GRACE (half aside to him, significantly). You understand. (Julia, watching them jealously, leaves her father and gets close to Charteris. Grace adds aloud) I shall expect your support before the committee.
JULIA. If you have a scrap of manhood you will take my part.
CHARTERIS. But then I shall be expelled for being a manly man. Besides, I’m on the committee myself; I can’t act as judge and witness, too. You must apply to Paramore: he saw it all.
GRACE. Where is Dr. Paramore?
CHARTERIS. Just gone home.
JULIA (with sudden resolution). What is Dr. Paramore’s number in Savile Row?
CHARTERIS. Seventy-nine. (Julia goes out quickly by the staircase door, to their astonishment. Charteris follows her to the door, which swings back in his face, leaving him staring after her through, the glass. Sylvia runs to Grace.)
SYLVIA. Grace: go after her. Don’t let her get beforehand with Paramore. She’ll tell him the most heartbreaking stories about how she’s been treated, and get him round completely.
CRAVEN (floundering). Sylvia! Is that the way to speak of your sister, miss? (Grace squeezes Sylvia’s hand to console her, and sits down calmly. Sylvia posts herself behind Grace’s chair, leaning over the back to watch the ensuing colloquy between the three men.) I assure you, Mrs. Tranfield, Dr. Paramore has just invited us all to take afternoon tea with him; and if my daughter has gone to his house, she is simply taking advantage of his invitation to extricate herself from a very embarrassing scene here. We’re all going there. Come, Sylvia. (He turns to go, followed by Cuthbertson.)
CHARTERIS (in consternation). Stop! (He gets between Craven and Cuthbertson.) What hurry is there? Can’t you give the man time?
CRAVEN. Time! What for?
CHARTERIS (talking foolishly in his agitation). Well, to get a little rest, you know — a busy professional man like that! He’s not had a moment to himself all day.
CRAVEN. But Julia’s with him.
CHARTERIS.
