ILIP.

I asked Robbie to tell you, if he had the opportunity, that I've
decided to make my farewell salaam to authorship. I'm no good at it;
I'm a frost; I realize it at last. I've had my final whack on the jaw;
I've fought--how many rounds?--and now I take the count and slink out
of the ring, beat. [_Producing his keys, he goes to the cabinet on the
right, unlocks it, and selects from several cardboard portfolios one
which he carries to the writing-table. While he is doing this,_
OTTOLINE_--still with an expressionless face--rises and moves to the
left, where she stands watching him. He opens the portfolio and, with a
pained look, handles the sheets of manuscript in it._] Ha! You and I
have often talked over this, haven't we, Otto?

OTTOLINE.

[_Calmly._] Often.

PHILIP.

[_Taking the manuscript from the portfolio--thoughtfully._] It was to
have been--oh, such an advance on my previous stuff--kindlier, less
strenuous, more urbane! Success--success!--had sweetened the gall in
me! [_Glancing at a partly covered page._] Here's where I broke off
yesterday. [_With a shrug._] In every man's life there's a chapter
uncompleted, in one form or another! [_Throwing the manuscript into the
portfolio._] Pst! Get back to your hole; I'll burn you later on. [_He
rejoins her. She half turns from him, averting her head._] So end my
pitiful strivings and ambitions! [_Laying his hand on her shoulder._]
Ah, it's a miserable match you're making, Ottoline! My two-hundred-a-year
will rig me out suitably, and provide me with tobacco; and the
dribblets coming to me from my old books--through the honest publishers
I deserted for Mr. Titterton!--the dribblets coming from my old books
will enable me to present you with a nosegay on the anniversaries of
our wedding-day, and--by the time your hair's white--to refund you the
money Titterton's had from you. And there--with a little fame unjustly
won, which, thank God, 'll soon die!--there you have the sum of my
possessions! [_Seizing her arms and twisting her round._] Oh, but I'll
be your mate, my dear--your loyal companion and protector--comrade and
lover----!

[_He is about to embrace her again, but she keeps him
off by placing her hands against his breast._

OTTOLINE.

[_Steeling herself._] Phil----

PHILIP.

[_Unsuspectingly._] Eh?