The Melting-Pot

Is it your orchestra Pappelmeister conducts?

QUINCY

Well, I pay the piper-and the drummer too!

[He chuckles.]

MENDEL [Sadly]

I wanted to play in it, but he turned me down.

QUINCY

I told you he was awful severe.

[To VERA] He only allows me comic opera once a week. My wife calls him the Bismarck of the baton.

MENDEL [Reverently]

A great conductor!

QUINCY

Would he have a twenty-thousand-dollar job with me if he wasn't? Not that he'd get half that in the open market-only I have to stick it on to keep him for my guests exclusively.

[Looks at watch.] But he ought to be here, confound him. A conductor should keep time, eh, Miss Revendal?

[He sniggers.]

MENDEL

I'll bring David. Won't you help yourselves to tea?

[To VERA] You see there's lemon for you-as in Russia.

[Exit to kitchen-a moment afterwards the merry music stops in

the middle of a bar.]

VERA

Thank you.

[Taking a cup.] Do you like lemon, Mr. Davenport?

QUINCY [Flirtatiously]

That depends. The last I had was in Russia itself-from the fair hands of your mother, the Baroness.

VERA [Pained]

Please don't say my mother, my mother is dead.

QUINCY [Fatuously misunderstanding]

Oh, you have no call to be ashamed of your step-mother-she's a stunning creature; all the points of a tip-top Russian aristocrat, or Quincy Davenport's no judge of breed! Doesn't speak English like your father-but then the Baron is a wonder.

VERA [Takes up teapot]

Father once hoped to be British Ambassador-that's why I had an English governess. But you never told me you met him in Russia.

QUINCY

Surely! When I gave you all those love messages--

VERA [Pouring tea quickly]

You said you met him at Wiesbaden.

QUINCY

Yes, but we grew such pals I motored him and the Baroness back to St. Petersburg. Jolly country, Russia-they know how to live.

VERA [Coldly]

I saw more of those who know how to die.... Milk and sugar?

QUINCY [Sentimentally]

Oh, Miss Revendal! Have you forgotten?

VERA [Politely snubbing]

How should I remember?

QUINCY

You don't remember our first meeting? At the Settlement Bazaar? When I paid you a hundred dollars for every piece of sugar you put in?

VERA

Did you? Then I hope you drank syrup.

QUINCY

Ugh! I hate sugar-I sacrificed myself.

VERA

To the Settlement? How heroic of you!

QUINCY

No, not to the Settlement. To you!

VERA

Then I'll only put milk in.

QUINCY

I hate milk. But from you--

VERA

Then we must fall back on the lemon.

QUINCY

I loathe lemon. But from--

VERA

Then you shall have your tea neat.

QUINCY

I detest tea, and here it would be particularly cheap and nasty. But--

VERA

Then you shall have a cake!

[She offers plate.]

QUINCY [Taking one]

Would they be eatable?

[Tasting it.] Humph! Not bad.

[Sentimentally] A little cake was all you would eat the only time you came to one of my private concerts. Don't you remember? We went down to supper together.

VERA [Taking his tea for herself and putting in lemon]

I shall always remember the delicious music Herr Pappelmeister gave us.

QUINCY

How unkind of you!

VERA

Unkind?

[She sips the tea and puts down the cup.] To be grateful for the music?

QUINCY

You know what I mean-to forget me!

[He tries to take her hand.]

VERA [Rising]

Aren't you forgetting yourself?

QUINCY

You mean because I'm married to that patched-and-painted creature? She's hankering for the stage again, the old witch.

VERA

Hush! Marriages with comic opera stars are not usually domestic idylls.

QUINCY