Hay Fever

hardly seen her since I’ve been here. Jackie Isn’t there a housemaid or anything? Richard I don’t think so. Sandy Is ten bob enough? Jackie Each? Myra Too much. Richard We’d better give her one pound ten between us. Myra Very well, then. Will you do it, and we’ll settle up in the car? Richard Must I? Myra Yes. Ring for her. Richard You’d do it much better. Sandy rings the bell. Myra Oh, no, I shouldn’t. To Jackie. Come on; we’ll finish our packing. Jackie All right. They begin to go upstairs. Richard Here⁠—don’t leave me. Sandy I’ll just go and look at the car. Will you all be ready in ten minutes? Myra Yes, ten minutes. She goes off with Jackie. Sandy Righto. He rushes out. Clara reenters. Clara ’Allo, where’s everybody gone? Richard They’ve gone to get ready. We’re leaving in Mr. Tyrell’s car. Clara A bit sudden, isn’t it? Richard Pressing money into her hand. This is from all of us, Clara. Thank you very much for all your trouble. Clara Surprised. Aren’t you a dear, now! There wasn’t any trouble. Richard There must have been a lot of extra work. Clara One gets used to that ’ere. Richard Goodbye, Clara. He goes upstairs. Clara proceeds to clear away the dirty breakfast things, which she takes out. She returns with a fresh pot of coffee, and meets Judith coming downstairs. Judith Good morning, Clara. Have the papers come? Clara Yes⁠—I’ll fetch them. She goes out.

Judith pours herself out some coffee, and sits down.

Clara reenters with papers.

Judith Thank you. You’ve forgotten my orange juice. Clara No, I ’aven’t, dear; it’s just outside. She goes out again. Judith turns to the theatrical column of the Sunday Times. Sorel comes downstairs and kisses her. Sorel Good morning, darling. Judith Listen to this. She reads. “We saw Judith Bliss in a box at the Haymarket on Tuesday, looking as lovely as ever.” There now! I thought I looked hideous on Tuesday. Sorel You looked sweet. She goes to get herself some breakfast. Clara reappears, with a glass of orange juice. Clara Placing it in front of Judith. Did you see that nice bit in The Referee? Judith No⁠—The Times. Clara The Referee’s much better. She finds the place and hands it to Sorel. Sorel Reading. “I saw gay and colourful Judith Bliss at the Waifs and Strays Matinée last week. She was talking vivaciously to Producer Basil Dean. ‘I’ sooth,’ said I to myself, ‘where ignorance is Bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.’ ” Judith Taking it from her. Dear Referee! It’s so unselfconscious. Clara If you want any more coffee, ring for it. She goes out. Sorel Sitting down. I wish I were sitting on a lovely South Sea island, with masses of palm trees and coconuts and turtles⁠— Judith It would be divine, wouldn’t it? Sorel I wonder where everybody is? Judith Still reading. I wonder.⁠ ⁠… Mary Saunders has got another failure. Sorel She must be used to it by now. Simon comes downstairs with a rush. Simon Kissing Judith. Good morning, darling.⁠—Look! He shows her a newly completed sketch. Judith Simon! How lovely! When did you do it? Simon This morning⁠—I woke early. Sorel Rising and craning over Judith’s shoulder. Let’s see. Simon Over the other shoulder. I’m going to alter Helen’s face; it’s too pink. Sorel Laughing. It’s exactly like her. Judith What a clever son I have! Simon Now then, Mother! Judith It’s too wonderful⁠—when I think of you both in your perambulators.⁠ ⁠… Oh dear, it makes me cry! She sniffs. Sorel I don’t believe you ever saw us in our perambulators. Judith I don’t believe I did. David comes downstairs. David Hilariously. It’s finished! Judith What, dear? David The Sinful Woman. Judith How splendid. Read it to us now. David I’ve got the last chapter here. Judith Go on, then. Sandy rushes in from the front door. On seeing everyone, he halts. Sandy Good morning. He bolts upstairs two at a time. Judith I seem to know that boy’s face. David Preparing to read. Listen. You remember when Violet was taken ill in Paris? Judith Yes, dear.⁠—Marmalade, Simon. David Well, I’ll go on from there. Judith Do, dear. David Reading. “Paris in spring, with the Champs Élysées alive and dancing in the sunlight; lightly dressed children like gay painted butterflies⁠—” Simon Whispering to Sorel. What’s happened to the barometer? Sorel Sibilantly. I don’t know. David Damn the barometer! Judith Don’t get cross, dear. David Why can’t you keep quiet, Simon, or go away! Simon Sorry, Father. David Well, don’t interrupt again.⁠ ⁠… Reading. “… gay painted butterflies; the streets were thronged with hurrying vehicles, the thin peek-peek of taxi-hooters⁠—” Sorel I love “peek-peek.” David Ignoring her. “⁠—seemed to merge in with the other vivid noises weaving a vast pattern of sound which was Paris. Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano, swept out of the Rue St.-Honoré into the Place de la Concorde⁠—” Judith She couldn’t have. David Why? Judith The Rue St.-Honoré doesn’t lead into the Place de la Concorde. David Yes, it does. Sorel You’re thinking of the Rue Boissy d’Anglas, Father. David I’m not thinking of anything of the sort. Judith David darling, don’t be obstinate. David Hotly. Do you think I don’t know Paris as well as you do? Simon Never mind. Father’s probably right. Sorel He isn’t right⁠—he’s wrong! David Go on with your food, Sorel. Judith Don’t be testy, David: it’s a sign of age. David Firmly. “Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano, swept out of the Rue St.-Honoré into the Place de la Concorde⁠—” Judith That sounds absolutely ridiculous. Why don’t you alter it? David It isn’t ridiculous; it’s perfectly right. Judith Very well, then; get a map, and I’ll show you. Simon We haven’t got a map. David Putting his MS. down. Now, look here, Judith⁠—here’s the Rue Royale⁠—He arranges the butter-dish and marmalade-pot.⁠—here’s the Crillon Hotel, and here’s the Rue St.-Honoré⁠— Judith It isn’t⁠—it’s the Boissy d’Anglas. David That runs parallel with the Rue de Rivoli. Judith You’ve got it all muddled. David Loudly. I have not got it all muddled. Judith Don’t shout. You have. Simon Why not let