He's getting so cross. And he says ... "Do, for Heaven's sake, let me read in peace." You know!

[But, with a flash of his wand, Harlequin strikes the book.

There! He has magicked the book all empty.

[And, sure enough, we see Gelsomino turn the empty pages in despair. It is the simplest of tricks. Then Harlequin points to where the Man of the World woos Columbine with those eyes of his, those greedy eyes. But Gelsomino will not see.

He's out of temper now, so he pretends he doesn't care.

[Harlequin points to the rose that Gelsomino so lightly let fall. The Man of the World is pressing it to his lips.

He points to the rose because that's a--that's a...! Oh, what's the word, Uncle?

UNCLE EDWARD. Symbol.

ALICE. Thank you ... Symbol of Columbine's true wifely love for him. And what the pointing says is: Are you going to throw that away, too? Don't be a silly fool!

[The Man of the World is taking his leave. The rose is at her lips now.

And what he says is To-night ... just like that. Only I can't say it. Which means he'll come back to-night and carry her off and love her ever so. And he might, what's more, if it wasn't for...! But you'll see.

[Suddenly Gelsomino goes to Columbine and demands the rose, imperiously, with a gesture not to be denied.

That means he says he's her husband, and can't he have it if he likes? And she won't give it him now. And she's quite right. I wouldn't either. Nor would any woman. Look!

[And Columbine has torn the rose in pieces and flung them on the ground, and flung herself off. And then Gelsomino flings himself down in self-reproachful despair. But all this flinging shows a lover's quarrel, and there's life and hope in that. But Alice is young and stern.

Serve him right! And if it wasn't for Harlequin ....

UNCLE EDWARD. Hush!

[Harlequin has called to Clown and Pantaloon. And, like conspirators, they stand there and most elaborately they weave a plot. It's a most difficult plot to follow. It involves a dark night and tiptoes and a signal given. It involves, too, a cloak and a skirt and a bonnet for Clown; and this attracts him so much he can attend to little else.

ALICE. Do you guess what's going to happen? Uncle, they've forgotten the lights. Oh, this is the bit I love.

UNCLE EDWARD. [In a hoa.r.s.e whisper.] St! George!

[Suddenly on the little stage day becomes night. What had George to do with it?

[In a hoa.r.s.e whisper still.] Bring 'em round a bit ... the number two steels.

[And the moon, obediently turning, floods the little stage. Indeed it is pretty. Uncle Edward can't contain himself. And he has given it away anyhow.

Romantic, isn't it? And just the colour moonlight ought to be.

[The music tells us this is real romance. Dark figures are flitting among the trees. Who are they? Gelsomino, Harlequin, Pantaloon. The Man of the World, wrapped dramatically in a great black cloak, arrives.

"Arrives" is poor. He approaches. Pantaloon totters down to him. "Wait, and your love will come." He waits and his love comes, waddling most amazingly and wrapped in the tablecloth. We are sure it's Clown, and who wouldn't be? But the Man of the World--for a real Man of the World--is strangely deceived. He kneels to her adoringly; he rises and would embrace her pa.s.sionately.

ALICE. "Love of my life," he says. "Let us away!"

[Harlequin waves his wand. The tablecloth has gone. It is Clown indeed, clownish and undoubted.

Yes, it's Clown, it's Clown, it's Clown! And Clown says:--"Whither away, fair sir?" And the Man of the World just withers.

[He grinds his teeth, does the Man of the World (if there is anything in the orchestra that will do it). And he goes, defeated. "Exit, baffled, the Man of the World."

Alice is breathless.

Harlequin and Gelsomino are alone now, and Harlequin wraps Gelsomino, all trembling as he is, in the cloak which the Man of the World dropped there.

They wait. Then comes poor Columbine creeping in, timid and ashamed. She half-dreads from the stern cloaked figure. She turns to her home to kiss her hand to it. But Harlequin with his wand lures her forward. And she goes, she goes. Then the wand is waved again, and the cloak is off. It is her husband; and she shrinks, this time in terror. He stands like a stone.

She waits for a blow--for a curse. But suddenly he kneels among the petals of the forgotten rose. Is it he begging forgiveness of her? She has no thought for that; only that she always loved him. She bends to him, he takes her hands. He rises and she lifts her face. Their lips join.

Alice and Uncle Edward draw the curtains.

There! That's how they get back among the G.o.ds.

We don't travel to the next Scene too quickly. Alice has gone back to her little chair, and there she sits silent, her chin cupped in her hand, her eyes dreamy. Uncle Edward clears his throat noisily several times. Then he puts on his spectacles and looks at her.

UNCLE EDWARD. Wool-gathering?

ALICE. I love a love story. And she's such a darling, and always, all through the ages, all through what Clown calls the longest weekend on record, she falls in love and falls in love ...and falls in love.

UNCLE EDWARD. Come, now, it's only storytelling. Don't let it get on your mind. Here, I want to speak to you.

[Alice most obediently goes over to him, and he whispers to her.

ALICE. [By no means in a whisper.] But perhaps George is busy with the next scene.

UNCLE EDWARD. Never you mind.

[Away she goes and through the curtains, leaving Uncle Edward to fill his pipe. But she's back almost at once and full of smiles.

UNCLE EDWARD. [Anxiously.] Well, what did he say?

ALICE. He said:--"I was thinking of having one myself, Miss Whistler."

[And there follows her through the curtains a hand and arm holding a foaming pint of beer, which she takes across to her Uncle. The beer goes the way of all beer.

UNCLE EDWARD. [After wiping his mouth, most politely, with the cheerfullest looking handkerchief you ever saw.] On the warm side. Go on with your bit.

[Alice takes her talking place again, feet together, hands behind her.

Then a long breath.

ALICE. So the years went by. And they acted in Italy, and they acted in France, and they acted in England. Which is where we've got to now, in about seventeen hundred and something. All sorts of odd people got added to the company, and dropped out again on the journeys. In France they found Pierrot. But, being a Frenchman, he hated travelling; so they left him there. n.o.body knows who Pierrot was ... at least I don't.

UNCLE EDWARD. My dear, if we start on what we don't know, we'll be here all night ... and the next.