NORWOOD. You know my name?

DENNIS. Oh yes, I've heard a good deal about you, Mr. Cyril Norwood.

NORWOOD (stiffly). I don't think I've had the pleasure of--er----

DENNIS (winningly). Oh, but I'm sure you must have heard a good deal about _me_.

NORWOOD. Good G.o.d, you don't mean----

DENNIS. I do, indeed. (With a bow) Dennis Camberley, the missing husband. (Pleadingly) You _have_ heard about me, _haven't_ you?

NORWOOD. I--er--Mr. Camberley, yes, of course. So you're back?

DENNIS. Yes, I'm back. Sometimes they don't come back, Mr. Norwood, and sometimes--they do. . . . Even after four years. . . . But you _did_ talk about me sometimes?

NORWOOD. How did you know my name?

DENNIS. A little bird told me about you.

NORWOOD (turning away in anger). Pooh!

DENNIS. One of those little Eastern birds, which sit on the backs of crocodiles, searching for--well, let us say, breakfast. He said to me one morning: "Talking of parasites," he said, "do you know Mr. Cyril Norwood?" he said, "because I could tell you an interesting story about him," he said, "if you care to--"

NORWOOD (wheeling round furiously). Look here, sir, we'd better have it out quite plainly. I don't want any veiled insults and sneers from you. I admit that an unfortunate situation has arisen, but we must look facts in the face. You may be Mrs. Camberley's husband, but she has not seen you for four years, and--well, she and I love each other.

There you have it. What are you going to do?

DENNIS (anxiously). You don't feel that I have neglected her, Mr.

Norwood? You see, I couldn't come home for week-ends very well, and--

NORWOOD. What are you going to do?

DENNIS (pleasantly). Well, what do you suggest?

NORWOOD (taken aback). Really, sir, I--er--

DENNIS. You see, I feel so out of it all. I've been leading such a nasty, uncivilised life for the last four years, I really hardly know what is--what is being done. Now _you_ have been mixing in Society . . .

making munitions . . .

NORWOOD (stiffly). I have been engaged on important work for the Government of a confidential nature--

DENNIS. You, as I was saying, have been mixing in Society, engaged on important work for the Government of a confidential nature----

NORWOOD. It was my great regret that I had no opportunity of enlisting----

DENNIS. With no opportunity, as I was about to say, of enlisting, but with many opportunities, fortunately, of making love to my wife.

NORWOOD. Now look here, Mr. Camberley, I've already told you----

DENNIS (soothing him). But, my dear Mr. Norwood, I'm only doing what you said. I'm looking facts in the face. (Surprised) You aren't ashamed of having made love to my wife, are you?

NORWOOD (impatiently). What are you going to do? That's all that matters between you and me. What are you going to do?

DENNIS. Well, that was what I was going to ask you. You're so much more in the swim than I am. (Earnestly) What _is_ being done in Society just now? You must have heard a good deal of gossip about it.

All your friends, who were also engaged on important work of a confidential nature, with no opportunity of enlisting--don't they tell you their own experiences? What _have_ the husbands been doing lately when they came back from the front?

NORWOOD (advancing on him angrily). Now, once and for all, sir----

(KATE comes in, with a hat in each hand, calling to NORWOOD as she comes.)

KATE. Oh, Cyril--which of these two hats--(she sees her husband)--Dennis!

DENNIS (looking at her steadfastly). How are _you_, Kate?

KATE (stammering). You've--you've come back? (She puts the hats down.)

DENNIS. I've come back. As I was telling Mr. Norwood.

KATE (looking from one to the other). You--?

DENNIS (smiling). Oh, we're quite old friends.

NORWOOD (going to her). I've told him, Kate.

(He takes her hands, and tries to look defiantly at DENNIS, though he is not feeling like that at all.)

KATE (looking anxiously at DENNIS). What are you going to do?

(She can hardly make him out. He is different from the husband who left her four years ago.)

DENNIS. Well, that's what Cyril keeps asking me. (to NORWOOD) You don't mind my calling you Cyril?--such an old friend of my wife's--

KATE (unable to make him out). Dennis! (She is frightened.)

NORWOOD (soothingly). It's all right, dear.

DENNIS. Do let's sit down and talk it over in a friendly way.

KATE (going to him). Dennis, can you ever forgive me? We never ought to have got married--we knew each other so little--you had to go away so soon--I--I was going to write and tell you--oh, I wish--

DENNIS. That's all right, Kate. (He will not let her come too close to him. He steps back and looks at her from head to feet) You've altered.

KATE. That's just it, Dennis. I'm not the girl who--

DENNIS. You've grown four years younger and four years prettier.

KATE (dropping her eyes). Have I?

DENNIS. Yes. . . . You do your hair a new way.