d.i.c.k. Don't think about it! No, no, no! I know exactly what it's like. [He strokes her arm.]

JOY. [Shrinking, in a whisper.] You mustn't.

[The music of a waltz is heard again.]

d.i.c.k. Look here, joy! It's no good, we must talk it over calmly.

JOY. You don't see! It's the--it 's the disgrace----

d.i.c.k. Oh! as to disgrace--she's your Mother, whatever she does; I'd like to see anybody say anything about her--[viciously]--I'd punch his head.

JOY. [Gulping her tears.] That does n't help.

d.i.c.k. But if she doesn't love your Father----

JOY. But she's married to him!

d.i.c.k. [Hastily.] Yes, of course, I know, marriage is awfully important; but a man understands these things.

[Joy looks at him. Seeing the impression he has made, he tries again.]

I mean, he understands better than a woman. I've often argued about moral questions with men up at Oxford.

JOY. [Catching at a straw.] But there's nothing to argue about.

d.i.c.k. [Hastily.] Of course, I believe in morals.

[They stare solemnly at each other.]

Some men don't. But I can't help seeing marriage is awfully important.

JOY. [Solemnly.] It's sacred.

d.i.c.k. Yes, I know, but there must be exceptions, Joy.

Joy. [Losing herself a little in the stress of this discussion.]

How can there be exceptions if a thing 's sacred?

d.i.c.k. [Earnestly.] All rules have exceptions; that's true, you know; it's a proverb.

JOY. It can't be true about marriage--how can it when----?

d.i.c.k. [With intense earnestness.] But look here, Joy, I know a really clever man--an author. He says that if marriage is a failure people ought to be perfectly free; it isn't everybody who believes that marriage is everything. Of course, I believe it 's sacred, but if it's a failure, I do think it seems awful--don't you?

JOY. I don't know--yes--if--[Suddenly] But it's my own Mother!

d.i.c.k. [Gravely.] I know, of course. I can't expect you to see it in your own case like this. [With desperation.] But look here, Joy, this'll show you! If a person loves a person, they have to decide, have n't they? Well, then, you see, that 's what your Mother's done.

JOY. But that does n't show me anything!

d.i.c.k. But it does. The thing is to look at it as if it was n't yourself. If it had been you and me in love, Joy, and it was wrong, like them, of course [ruefully] I know you'd have decided right.

[Fiercely.] But I swear I should have decided wrong.

[Triumphantly.] That 's why I feel I understand your Mother.

JOY. [Brushing her sleeve across her eyes.] Oh, d.i.c.k, you are so sweet--and--and--funny!

d.i.c.k. [Sliding his arm about her.] I love you, Joy, that 's why, and I 'll love you till you don't feel it any more. I will. I'll love you all day and every day; you shan't miss anything, I swear it.

It 's such a beautiful night--it 's on purpose. Look' [JOY looks; he looks at her.] But it 's not so beautiful as you.

JOY. [Bending her head.] You mustn't. I don't know--what's coming?

d.i.c.k. [Sidling closer.] Are n't your knees tired, darling? I--I can't get near you properly.

JOY. [With a sob.] Oh! d.i.c.k, you are a funny--comfort!

d.i.c.k. We'll stick together, Joy, always; nothing'll matter then.

[They struggle to their feet-the waltz sounds louder.]

You're missing it all! I can't bear you to miss the dancing. It seems so queer! Couldn't we? Just a little turn?

JOY. No, no?

d.i.c.k. Oh! try!

[He takes her gently by the waist, she shrinks back.]

JOY. [Brokenly.] No-no! Oh! d.i.c.k-to-morrow 'll be so awful.

d.i.c.k. To-morrow shan't hurt you, Joy; nothing shall ever hurt you again.

[She looks at him, and her face changes; suddenly she buries it against his shoulder.]

[They stand so just a moment in the moon light; then turning to the river move slowly out of sight. Again the hollow tree is left alone.

The music of the waltz has stopped. The voices of MISS BEECH and the COLONEL are heard approaching from the house. They appear in the opening of the wall. The COLONEL carries a pair of field gla.s.ses with which to look at the Moon.]

COLONEL. Charming to see Molly dance with Lever, their steps go so well together! I can always tell when a woman's enjoying herself, Peachey.

MISS BEECH. [Sharply.] Can you? You're very clever.

COLONEL. Wonderful, that moon! I'm going to have a look at her!

Splendid gla.s.ses these, Peachy [he screws them out], not a better pair in England. I remember in Burmah with these gla.s.ses I used to be able to tell a man from a woman at two miles and a quarter. And that's no joke, I can tell you. [But on his way to the moon, he has taken a survey of the earth to the right along the river. In a low but excited voice] I say, I say--is it one of the maids--the baggage! Why! It's d.i.c.k! By George, she's got her hair down, Peachey! It's Joy!

[MISS BEECH goes to look. He makes as though to hand the gla.s.ses to her, but puts them to his own eyes instead-- excitedly.]

It is! What about her headache? By George, they're kissing. I say, Peachey! I shall have to tell Nell!

MISS BEECH. Are you sure they're kissing? Well, that's some comfort.