g.] Again I have beaten all London, Monsieur
--not one bite. [Contemplating himself.] I think perhaps, that, for
the bourgeoisie, there is a little too much colour in my costume.

WELLWYN. [Contemplating him.] Let's see--I believe I've an old top
hat somewhere.

FERRAND. Ah! Monsieur, 'merci', but that I could not. It is
scarcely in my character.

WELLWYN. True!

FERRAND. I have been to merchants of wine, of tabac, to hotels, to
Leicester Square. I have been to a Society for spreading Christian
knowledge--I thought there I would have a chance perhaps as
interpreter. 'Toujours meme chose', we regret, we have no situation
for you--same thing everywhere. It seems there is nothing doing in
this town.

WELLWYN. I've noticed, there never is.

FERRAND. I was thinking, Monsieur, that in aviation there might be a
career for me--but it seems one must be trained.

WELLWYN. Afraid so, Ferrand.

FERRAND. [Approaching the picture.] Ah! You are always working at
this. You will have something of very good there, Monsieur. You
wish to fix the type of wild savage existing ever amongst our high
civilisation. 'C'est tres chic ca'! [WELLWYN manifests the quiet
delight of an English artist actually understood.] In the figures
of these good citizens, to whom she offers her flower, you would
give the idea of all the cage doors open to catch and make tame the
wild bird, that will surely die within. 'Tres gentil'! Believe me,
Monsieur, you have there the greatest comedy of life! How anxious
are the tame birds to do the wild birds good. [His voice changes.]
For the wild birds it is not funny. There is in some human souls,
Monsieur, what cannot be made tame.

WELLWYN. I believe you, Ferrand.

[The face of a young man appears at the window, unseen.
Suddenly ANN opens the door leading to the house.]

ANN. Daddy--I want you.

WELLWYN. [To FERRAND.] Excuse me a minute!

[He goes to his daughter, and they pass out. FERRAND remains
at the picture. MRS. MEGAN dressed in some of ANN's discarded
garments, has come out of the model's room. She steals up
behind FERRAND like a cat, reaches an arm up, and curls it
round his mouth. He turns, and tries to seize her; she
disingenuously slips away. He follows. The chase circles the
tea table. He catches her, lifts her up, swings round with
her, so that her feet fly out; kisses her bent-back face, and
se