The Vortex

times, Tom. Tom

Doing the same.

Cheerio!

Curtain.

Act II

The scene is the hall of Mrs. Lancaster’s house, about forty miles from London.

When the curtain rises it is just after dinner on the Sunday of the weekend party⁠—the gramophone is going and there is a continual buzz of conversation. Clara Hibbert, an emaciated soprano, is dancing with Tom Veryan, Helen with Pawnie, and Nicky with Bunty. Florence is seated on the club fender, talking intellectually with Bruce Fairlight, an earnest dramatist, the squalor of whose plays is much appreciated by those who live in comparative luxury.

There must be a feeling of hectic amusement and noise, and the air black with cigarette smoke and superlatives. During the first part of the scene everyone must appear to be talking at once, but the actual lines spoken while dancing must be timed to reach the audience as the speakers pass near the footlights. This scene will probably be exceedingly difficult to produce, but is absolutely indispensable.

Helen	It’s much too fast, Nicky.
Tom	Do slow down a bit.
Nicky	It’s the pace that’s marked on the record.
Pawnie	I’ve never danced well since the War, I don’t know why.
Florence	But your last act was so strong, when she came in half mad with fright and described everything minutely.
Bruce	I try to write as honestly as possible.
Clara	I gave her three for manners, but seven for charm, because I had to be a little nice!
Tom	I thought she was rather a decent sort.
Bunty	No, but really, Nicky, his technique completely annihilated his inspiration.
Nicky	Not with Debussy and Ravel, with the older masters, yes; but he’s probably tired of them.
Bunty	That’s so stupid, I think.
Helen	My dear, it was the most “chic” thing you’ve ever seen, but unfortunately the wrong color.
Pawnie	Marion Ferris had that Poiret model copied in the most frightful blue!
Clara	I believe my shoe’s coming off.
Tom	Shall we stop?
Clara	No, it’s all right.
Florence	I wonder if you could gouge this cigarette-end out of the holder for me?
Bruce	I’ll try. He does so. I always smoke a pipe when I’m working.
Florence	How soothing!
Bunty	I suppose one can never really judge properly from a recital.
Nicky	Not with him, because he’s not dramatic enough.
Bunty	Dramatic pianists make me uncomfortable.
Helen	Pawnie, your tongue grows more venomous every day.
Pawnie	Giggling. Well, I had to say something⁠—anyhow, it was true.
Helen	Especially about her ankles.
Pawnie	My dear, yes!
	They both laugh. The record comes to an end, and Nicky begins to change it. Everyone talks and laughs.
Clara	You must come next Sunday week.
Tom	Thanks awfully, I’d love to.
Clara	I’m only singing ballads, but you know what Sunday concerts are.
Tom	Oh yes, rather.
Clara	To Nicky. What’s on the other side?
Nicky	“You’ve got the cutest ears and eyes and nose.”
Pawnie	Do put on “Spoony Moon in Upper Carolina.”
Helen	No, don’t put it on, Nicky; play it yourself; you always make the gramophone go too quickly.
Bunty	Yes, go on, Nicky.
Florence	Refusing Bruce’s offer of a cigarette. No, thanks, not another⁠—I’m dancing with Tom.
Bunty	Gayly. Missing one, Tom.
Tom	Righto!
	Nicky commences to play a foxtrot.
Bunty	Dragging Bruce to his feet. Come on, Mr. Fairlight, don’t overdo the serious dramatist stunt!
Bruce	I warn you I’m no good.
	He dances with her, and confirms the truth of his warning. Clara Hibbert squashes down on the piano-seat next to Nicky and endeavors with one finger in the treble to follow the tune he is playing. Helen and Pawnie stand right down close to the footlights, smoking and talking; their backs are half turned to the audience, but their remarks must be perfectly audible.
Helen	Tom Veryan doesn’t dance as well as he thinks he does.
Pawnie	With that figure he ought to be marvelous.
Helen	He’s too athletic.
Pawnie	Anyhow, I’m sure he’s a success at the Bath Club.
Helen	Doesn’t Florence look astounding?
Pawnie	Absolutely. She knows exactly what suits her.
Helen	Where’s David?
Pawnie	He went off to his study to smoke.
Helen	I do wish Florence wouldn’t be irritable with him in front of everybody. I felt acutely uncomfortable at dinner.
Pawnie	It makes Nicky furious as a rule, but tonight he was too occupied with that stupid little fool Bunty Mainwaring to take any notice.
Helen	She’s an excellent type.
Pawnie	Very average; I only hope nothing will come of Nicky’s mania for her.
Helen	I don’t think we need worry.
Pawnie	Why?
Helen	Wait and see, my dear.
Clara	Leaving Nicky at the piano and advancing on Pawnie. Come and dance, Pawnie, and tell me how divinely I sang on Tuesday.
Pawnie	Agreeably. You didn’t.
Clara	Ten for cruelty.
	They start to dance. Helen moves over to the mantelpiece for a cigarette.
Helen	Have you a match, Nicky?
Nicky	Isn’t this a marvelous tune?
Helen	Fascinating! She goes over and sits next to him. Gently slipping her hand into his coat pocket. Darling, I do want a match. She brings out a little box. What a divine little box!
	Nicky stops playing and jumps up.
Nicky	Violently. Helen, give that to me!⁠—
	Everyone stops dancing.
Clara	Nicky dear, don’t be tiresome.
Nicky	Recovering himself. I’m sick of playing. Let’s have the gramophone again. To Helen. Here’s a light, dearie.
	He takes matchbox out of another pocket and lights Helen’s cigarette. She looks at him queerly for a moment, then he restarts the gramophone and everyone begins to dance again except Helen and Bruce Fairlight. Helen goes over to the fireplace and takes a coffee-cup from the mantelpiece.
Helen	Whose coffee is this? Someone drank mine, and I’d hardly touched it.
Bruce	If it had no sugar in it, it’s mine.
Helen	Draining it. It had no sugar in it.
Florence	You’re dancing abominably, Tom.
Tom	Oh, am I?
Florence	What’s the matter with you?
Tom	I don’t know. I suppose I’m tired.
Florence	You’re not usually tired when you’re dancing with me.
Tom	Oh, Florence, don’t nag!
Florence	How dare you speak to me like that?
	She stops dancing and goes over