Exiles

movements. Beatrice Not directly to him. My movements are not very interesting. Robert In the same tone. A lady’s movements are always interesting. Bertha But sit down, won’t you? You must be very tired. Beatrice Quickly. No, not at all. I just came for Archie’s lesson. Bertha I wouldn’t hear of such a thing, Miss Justice, after your long journey. Archie Suddenly to Beatrice. And, besides, you didn’t bring the music. Beatrice A little confused. That I forgot. But we have the old piece. Robert Pinching Archie’s ear. You little scamp. You want to get off the lesson. Bertha O, never mind the lesson. You must sit down and have a cup of tea now. Going towards the door on the right. I’ll tell Brigid. Archie I will, mamma. He makes a movement to go. Beatrice No, please Mrs. Rowan. Archie! I would really prefer⁠ ⁠… Robert Quietly. I suggest a compromise. Let it be a half-lesson. Bertha But she must be exhausted. Beatrice Quickly. Not in the least. I was thinking of the lesson in the train. Robert To Bertha. You see what it is to have a conscience, Mrs. Rowan. Archie Of my lesson, Miss Justice? Beatrice Simply. It is ten days since I heard the sound of a piano. Bertha O, very well. If that is it⁠ ⁠… Robert Nervously, gaily. Let us have the piano by all means. I know what is in Beatty’s ears at this moment. To Beatrice. Shall I tell? Beatrice If you know. Robert The buzz of the harmonium in her father’s parlour. To Beatrice. Confess. Beatrice Smiling. Yes. I can hear it. Robert Grimly. So can I. The asthmatic voice of protestantism. Bertha Did you not enjoy yourself down there, Miss Justice? Robert Intervenes. She did not, Mrs. Rowan. She goes there on retreat, when the protestant strain in her prevails⁠—gloom, seriousness, righteousness. Beatrice I go to see my father. Robert Continuing. But she comes back here to my mother, you see. The piano influence is from our side of the house. Bertha Hesitating. Well, Miss Justice, if you would like to play something⁠ ⁠… But please don’t fatigue yourself with Archie. Robert Suavely. Do, Beatty. That is what you want. Beatrice If Archie will come? Archie With a shrug. To listen. Beatrice Takes his hand. And a little lesson, too. Very short. Bertha Well, afterwards you must stay to tea. Beatrice To Archie. Come. Beatrice and Archie go out together by the door on the left. Bertha goes towards the davenport, takes off her hat and lays it with her sunshade on the desk. Then taking a key from a little flowervase, she opens a drawer of the davenport, takes out a slip of paper and closes the drawer again. Robert stands watching her. Bertha Coming towards him with the paper in her hand. You put this into my hand last night. What does it mean? Robert Do you not know? Bertha Reads. There is one word which I have never dared to say to you. What is the word? Robert That I have a deep liking for you. A short pause. The piano is heard faintly from the upper room. Robert Takes the bunch of roses from the chair. I brought these for you. Will you take them from me? Bertha Taking them. Thank you. She lays them on the table and unfolds the paper again. Why did you not dare to say it last night? Robert I could not speak to you or follow you. There were too many people on the lawn. I wanted you to think over it and so I put it into your hand when you were going away. Bertha Now you have dared to say it. Robert Moves his hand slowly past his eyes. You passed. The avenue was dim with dusky light. I could see the dark green masses of the trees. And you passed beyond them. You were like the moon. Bertha Laughs. Why like the moon? Robert In that dress, with your slim body, walking with little even steps. I saw the moon passing in the dusk till you passed and left my sight. Bertha Did you think of me last night? Robert Comes nearer. I think of you always⁠—as something beautiful and distant⁠—the moon or some deep music. Bertha Smiling. And last night which was I? Robert I was awake half the night. I could hear your voice. I could see your face in the dark. Your eyes⁠ ⁠… I want to speak to you. Will you listen to me? May I speak? Bertha Sitting down. You may. Robert Sitting beside her. Are you annoyed with me? Bertha No. Robert I thought you were. You put away my poor flowers so quickly. Bertha Takes them from the table and holds them close to her face. Is this what you wish me to do with them? Robert Watching her. Your face is a flower too⁠—but more beautiful. A wild flower blowing in a hedge. Moving his chair closer to her. Why are you smiling? At my words? Bertha Laying the flowers in her lap. I am wondering if that is what you say⁠—to the others. Robert Surprised. What others? Bertha The other women. I hear you have so many admirers. Robert Involuntarily. And that is why you too⁠ ⁠… ? Bertha But you have, haven’t you? Robert Friends, yes. Bertha Do you speak to them in the same way? Robert In an offended tone. How can you ask me such a question? What kind of person do you think I am? Or why do you listen to me? Did you not like me to speak to you in that way? Bertha What you said was very kind. She looks at him for a moment. Thank you for saying it⁠—and thinking it. Robert Leaning forward. Bertha! Bertha Yes? Robert I have the right to call you by your name. From old times⁠—nine years ago. We were Bertha⁠—and Robert⁠—then. Can we not be so now, too? Bertha Readily. O yes. Why should we not? Robert Bertha, you knew. From the very night