Hay Fever

scullery like one o’clock. Sorel You haven’t forgotten to put those flowers in the Japanese room? Simon The Japanese room is essentially feminine, and entirely unsuited to the Pet of the Foreign Office. Sorel Shut up, Simon. Clara The room looks lovely, dear⁠—you needn’t worry. Just like your mother’s dressing-room on a first night. Simon How restful! Clara To Sorel. Have you told her about your boy friend? Sorel Pained. Not boy friend, Clara. Clara Going round, picking up things. Oh, well, whatever he is. Simon I think Sorel’s beginning to be ashamed of us all, Clara⁠—I don’t altogether blame her; we are very slapdash. Clara Are you going to leave that picture in the guests’ bathroom, dear? I don’t know if it’s quite the thing⁠—lots of pink, naked women rolling about in a field. Simon Severely. Nudity can be very beautiful, Clara. Clara Oh, can it! Perhaps being a dresser for so long ’as spoilt me eye for it. She goes out. Simon Clara’s looking tired. We ought to have more servants and not depend on her so much. Sorel You know we can never keep them. You’re right about us being slapdash, Simon. I wish we weren’t. Simon Does it matter? Sorel It must, I think⁠—to other people. Simon It’s not our fault⁠—it’s the way we’ve been brought up. Sorel Well, if we’re clever enough to realise that, we ought to be clever enough to change ourselves. Simon I’m not sure that I want to. Sorel We’re so awfully bad-mannered. Simon Not to people we like. Sorel The people we like put up with it because they like us. Simon What do you mean, exactly, by bad manners? Lack of social tricks and small-talk? Sorel We never attempt to look after people when they come here. Simon Why should we? It’s loathsome being looked after. Sorel Yes, but people like little attentions. We’ve never once asked anyone if they’ve slept well. Simon I consider that an impertinence, anyhow. Sorel I’m going to try to improve. Simon You’re only going on like this because you’ve got a mania for a diplomatist. You’ll soon return to normal. Sorel Earnestly. Abnormal, Simon⁠—that’s what we are. Abnormal. People stare in astonishment when we say what we consider perfectly ordinary things. I just remarked at Freda’s lunch the other day how nice it would be if someone invented something to make all our faces go up like the Chinese, because I was so bored with them going down⁠—and they all thought I was mad! Simon It’s no use worrying, darling; we see things differently, I suppose, and if people don’t like it they must lump it. Sorel Mother’s been awfully restless lately. Simon Yes, I know. Sorel Life must be terribly dull for her now, with nothing to do. Simon She’ll go back soon, I expect; people never retire from the stage for long. Sorel Father will be livid if she does. Simon That won’t matter. Enter Judith from the garden. She is carrying an armful of flowers and wearing a tea-gown, a large garden hat, gauntlet gloves and goloshes. Judith You look awfully dirty, Simon. What have you been doing? Simon Nonchalantly. Not washing very much. Judith You should, darling, really. It’s so bad for your skin to leave things about on it. She proceeds to take off her goloshes. Sorel Clara says Amy’s got toothache. Judith Poor dear! There’s some oil of cloves in my medicine cupboard. Who is Amy? Sorel The scullery-maid, I think. Judith How extraordinary! She doesn’t look Amy a bit, does she? Much more Flossie.⁠—Give me a cigarette. Sorel gives her a cigarette and lights it. Delphiniums are those stubby red flowers, aren’t they? Simon No, darling, they’re tall and blue. Judith Yes, of course. The red ones are somebody’s name⁠—asters, that’s it. I knew it was something opulent. I do hope Clara has remembered about the Japanese room. Sorel Japanese room! Judith Yes; I told her to put some flowers in it and take Simon’s flannels out of the wardrobe drawer. Sorel So did I. Judith Ominously. Why? Sorel Airily. I’ve asked Richard Greatham down for the weekend⁠—I didn’t think you’d mind. Judith Mind! How dared you do such a thing? Sorel He’s a diplomatist. Judith That makes it much worse. We must wire and put him off at once. Sorel It’s too late. Judith Well, we’ll tell Clara to say we’ve been called away. Sorel That would be extremely rude, and, anyhow, I want to see him. Judith You mean to stand there in cold blood and tell me you’ve asked a complete stranger down for the weekend, and that you want to see him! Sorel I’ve often done it before. Judith I fail to see how that helps matters. Where’s he going to sleep? Sorel The Japanese room. Judith Oh, no, he isn’t⁠—Sandy Tyrell is sleeping in it. Simon There now! What did I tell you? Sorel Sandy⁠—what? Judith Tyrell, dear. Simon Why didn’t you tell us, Mother? Judith I did. I’ve talked of nothing but Sandy Tyrell for days. I adore Sandy Tyrell. Simon You’ve never mentioned him. Sorel Who is he, Mother? Judith He’s a perfect darling, and madly in love with me⁠—at least, it isn’t me really, it’s my Celebrated Actress glamour⁠—but it gives me a divinely cosy feeling. I met him at Nora Trent’s. Sorel Mother, I wish you’d give up this sort of thing. Judith What exactly do you mean by “this sort of thing,” Sorel? Sorel You know perfectly well what I mean. Judith Are you attempting to criticise me? Sorel I should have thought you’d be above encouraging silly callow young men who are infatuated by your name. Judith That may be true, but I shall allow nobody but myself to say it. I hoped you’d grow up a good daughter to me, not a critical aunt. Sorel It’s so terribly cheap. Judith Cheap! Nonsense! What about your diplomatist? Sorel Surely that’s a little different, dear? Judith If you mean that because you happen to be a vigorous ingénue of nineteen you have the complete monopoly of any amorous adventure there may be about, I feel it my firm duty to disillusion you. Sorel But, Mother⁠— Judith Anyone would think I was eighty, the way you go on. It was a great mistake not sending you to boarding schools, and you coming back and me being your