Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays
Chapter 8 : MARG. My publisher.CLEM. Then it's been read already.MARG. Yes, and lots more will

MARG. My publisher.

CLEM. Then it's been read already.

MARG. Yes, and lots more will read it. Clement, you will have cause to be proud, believe me.

CLEM. You're mistaken, my dear. I think--but, tell me, what's it about?

MARG. I can't tell you right off. The novel contains the greatest part, so to speak, and all that can be said of the greatest part.

CLEM. My compliments!

MARG. That's why I'm going to promise you never to pick up a pen any more. I don't need to.

CLEM. Margaret, do you love me?

MARG. What a question! You and you only. Though I have seen a great deal, though I have gadded about a great deal, I have experienced comparatively little. I have waited all my life for your coming.

CLEM. Well, let me have the book.

MARG. Why--why? What do you mean?

CLEM. I grant you, there was some excuse in your having written it; but it doesn't follow that it's got to be read. Let me have it, and we'll throw it into the fire.

MARG. Clem!

CLEM. I make that request. I have a right to make it.

MARG. Impossible! It simply--

CLEM. Why? If I wish it; if I tell you our whole future depends on it.

Do you understand? Is it still impossible?

MARG. But, Clement, the novel has already been printed.

CLEM. What! Printed?

MARG. Yes. In a few days it will be on sale on all the book-stalls.

CLEM. Margaret, you did all that without a word to me--?

MARG. I couldn't do otherwise. When once you see it, you will forgive me. More than that, you will be proud.

CLEM. My dear, this has progressed beyond a joke.

MARG. Clement!

CLEM. Adieu, Margaret.

MARG. Clement, what does this mean? You are leaving?

CLEM. As you see.

MARG. When are you coming back again?

CLEM. I can't say just now. Adieu.

MARG. Clement! [_Tries to hold him back._]

CLEM. Please. [_Goes out._]

MARG. [_alone_]. Clement! What does this mean? He's left me for good.

What shall I do? Clement! Is everything between us at an end? No. It can't be. Clement! I'll go after him. [_She looks for her hat. The doorbell rings._] Ah, he's coming back. He only wanted to frighten me.

Oh, my Clement! [_Goes to the door. Gilbert enters._]

GIL. [_to the maid_]. I told you so. Madame's at home. How do you do, Margaret?

MARG. [_astonished_]. You?

GIL. It's I--I. Amandus Gilbert.

MARG. I'm so surprised.

GIL. So I see. There's no cause for it. I merely thought I'd stop over.

I'm on my way to Italy. I came to offer you my latest book for auld lang syne. [_Hands her the book. As she does not take it, he places it on the table._]

MARG. It's very good of you. Thanks!

GIL. You have a certain proprietors.h.i.+p in that book. So you are living here?

MARG. Yes, but--

GIL. Opposite the stadium, I see. As far as furnished rooms go, it's pa.s.sable enough. But these family portraits on the walls would drive me crazy.

MARG. My housekeeper's the widow of a general.

GIL. Oh, you needn't apologize.

MARG. Apologize! Really, the idea never occurred to me.

GIL. It's wonderful to hark back to it now.

MARG. To what?

GIL. Why shouldn't I say it? To the small room in Steinsdorf street, with its balcony ab.u.t.ting over the Isar. Do you remember, Margaret?

MARG. Suppose we drop the familiar.

GIL. As you please--as you please. [_Pause, then suddenly._] You acted shamefully, Margaret.