Wilton Crescent. Sarah is reading in the armchair near the
window. Barbara, in ordinary dresss, pale and brooding, is on the
settee. Charley Lomax enters. Coming forward between the settee
and the writing table, he starts on seeing Barbara fashionably
attired and in low spirits.
LOMAX. You've left off your uniform!
Barbara says nothing; but an expression of pain passes over
her face.
LADY BRITOMART [warning him in low tones to be careful] Charles!
LOMAX [much concerned, sitting down sympathetically on the settee
beside Barbara] I'm awfully sorry, Barbara. You know I helped you
all I could with the concertina and so forth. [Momentously]
Still, I have never shut my eyes to the fact that there is a
certain amount of tosh about the Salvation Army. Now the claims
of the Church of England--
LADY BRITOMART. That's enough, Charles. Speak of something suited
to your mental capacity.
LOMAX. But surely the Church of England is suited to all our
capacities.
BARBARA [pressing his hand] Thank you for your sympathy, Cholly.
Now go and spoon with Sarah.
LOMAX [rising and going to Sarah] How is my ownest today?
SARAH. I wish you wouldn't tell Cholly to do things, Barbara. He
always comes straight and does them. Cholly: we're going to the
works at Perivale St. Andrews this afternoon.
LOMAX. What works?
SARAH. The cannon works.
LOMAX. What! Your governor's shop!
SARAH. Yes.
LOMAX. Oh I say!
Cusins enters in poor condition. He also starts visibly when he
sees Barbara without her uniform.
BARBARA. I expected you this morning, Dolly. Didn't you guess
that?
CUSINS [sitting down beside her] I'm sorry. I have only just
breakfasted.
SARAH. But we've just finished lunch.
BARBARA. Have you had one of your bad nights?
CUSINS. No: I had rather a good night: in fact, one of the most
remarkable nights I have ever passed.
BARBARA. The meeting?
CUSINS. No: after the meeting.
LADY BRITOMART. You should have gone to bed after the meeting.
What were you doing?
CUSINS. Drinking.
LADY BRITOMART. {Adolphus!
SARAH. {Dolly!
BARBARA. {Dolly!
LOMAX. {Oh I say!
LADY BRITOMART. What were you drinking, may I ask?
CUSINS. A most devilish kind of Spanish burgundy, warranted free
from added alcohol: a Temperance burgundy in fact. Its richness
in natural alcohol made any addition superfluous.
BARBARA. Are you joking, Dolly?
CUSINS [patiently] No. I have been making a ni
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