Complete Poems and Plays (96 page)

So perhaps I laid the foundation of your fortunes!

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
And perhaps at the same time of your own?

I seem to remember, it was only a year or so

Before your name appeared in very large letters

In Shaftesbury Avenue.

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
                 Yes, I had my art.

Don’t you remember what a hit I made

With a number called
It’s
Not
Too
Late
For
You
To
Love
Me
?

I couldn’t have put the feeling into it I did

But for what I’d gone through. Did you hear me sing it?

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
Yes, I heard you sing it.

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
                                                And what did you feel?

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
Nothing at all. I remember my surprise

At finding that I felt nothing at all.

I thought, perhaps, what a lucky escape

It had been, for both of us.

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
                      That ‘both of us’

Was an afterthought, Richard. A lucky escape

You thought, for you. You felt no embarrassment?

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
Why should I feel embarrassment? My conscience was clear.

A brief infatuation, ended in the only way possible

To our mutual satisfaction.

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
                       Your conscience was clear.

I’ve very seldom heard people mention their consciences

Except to observe that their consciences were clear.

You got out of a tangle for a large cash payment

And no publicity. So your conscience was clear.

At bottom, I believe you’re still the same silly Richard

You always were. You wanted to pose

As a man of the world. And now you’re posing

As what? I presume, as an elder statesman;

And the difference between being an elder statesman

And posing successfully as an elder statesman

Is practically negligible. And you look the part.

Whatever part you’ve played, I must say you’ve always looked it.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
I’ve no longer any part to play, Maisie.

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
There’ll always be some sort of part for you

Right to the end. You’ll still be playing a part

In your obituary, whoever writes it.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON.
Considering how long ago it was when you knew me

And considering the brevity of our acquaintance,

You’re surprisingly confident, I must say,

About your understanding of my character.

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
I’ve followed your progress year by year, Richard.

And although it’s true that our acquaintance was brief,

Our relations were intense enough, I think,

To have given me one or two insights into you.

No, Richard, don’t imagine that I’m still in love with you;

And you needn’t think I idolise your memory.

It’s simply that I feel that we belong together …

Now, don’t get alarmed. But you touched my soul —

Pawed it, perhaps, and the touch still lingers.

And I’ve touched yours.

It’s frightening to think that we’re still together

And more frightening to think that we may
always
be together.

There’s a phrase I seem to remember reading somewhere:

Where
their
fires
are
not
quenched.
Do you know what I do?

I read your letters every night.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
                       My letters!

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
Have you forgotten that you wrote me letters?

Oh, not very many. Only a few worth keeping.

Only a few. But very beautiful!

It was Effie said, when the break came,

‘They’ll be worth a fortune to you, Maisie.’

They would have figured at the trial, I suppose,

If there had been a trial. Don’t you remember them?

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
Vaguely. Were they very passionate?

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
They were very loving. Would you like to read them?

I’m afraid I can’t show you the originals;

They’re in my lawyer’s safe. But I have photostats

Which are quite as good, I’m told. And I like to read them

In your own handwriting.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
                 And have you shown these letters

To many people?

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
       Only a few friends.

Effie said: ‘If he becomes a famous man

And you should be in want, you could have these letters auctioned.’

Yes, I’ll bring the photostats tomorrow morning,

And read them to you.

— Oh, there’s Mrs. Piggott!

She’s bearing down on us. Isn’t she frightful!

She never stops talking. Can you bear it?

If I go at once, perhaps she’ll take the hint

And leave us alone tomorrow.

Good morning, Mrs. Piggott!

Isn’t it a glorious morning!

[
Enter
M
RS.
P
IGGOTT
]

M
RS.
P
IGGOTT
.
Good morning, Mrs. Carghill!

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
                                                   Dear Mrs. Piggott!

It seems to me that you never sit still:

You simply sacrifice yourself for us.

M
RS.
P
IGGOTT
.
It’s the breath of life to me, Mrs. Carghill,

Attending to my guests. I like to feel they
need
me!

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
You do look after us well, Mrs. Piggott:

You’re so considerate — and so understanding.

M
RS.
P
IGGOTT
.
But I ought to introduce you. You’ve been talking to Lord Claverton,

The famous Lord Claverton. This is Mrs. Carghill.

Two of our very nicest guests!

I just came to see that Lord Claverton was comfortable:

We can’t allow him to tire himself with talking.

What he needs is
rest
! You’re not going, Mrs. Carghill?

M
RS.
C
ARGHILL
.
Oh, I knew that Lord Claverton had come for a rest cure,

And it struck me that he might find it a strain

To have to cope with both of us at once.

Besides, I ought to do my breathing exercises.

[
Exit
]

M
RS.
P
IGGOTT
.
As a matter of fact, I flew to your rescue

(That’s why I’ve brought your morning tipple myself

Instead of leaving it, as usual, to Nurse)

When I saw that Mrs. Carghill had caught you.

You wouldn’t know that name, but you might remember her

As Maisie Montjoy in revue.

She was well-known at one time. I’m afraid her name

Means nothing at all to the younger generation,

But you and I should remember her, Lord Claverton.

That tune she was humming,
It’s
Not
Too
Late
For
You
To
Love
Me,

Everybody was singing it once. A charming person,

I dare say, but not quite your sort or mine.

I suspected that she wanted to meet you, so I thought

That I’d
take the first opportunity of hinting —

Tactfully, of course — that you should not be disturbed.

Well, she’s gone now. If she bothers you again

Just let me know. I’m afraid it’s the penalty

Of being famous.

[
Enter
Monica]

Oh, Miss Claverton-Ferry!

I didn’t see you coming. Now I must fly.

[
Exit
]

M
ONICA
.
I saw Mrs. Piggott bothering you again

So I hurried to your rescue. You look tired, Father.

She ought to know better. But I’m all the more distressed

Because I have some … not very good news for you.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
Oh, indeed. What’s the matter?

M
ONICA
.
                                                                     I didn’t get far.

I met Michael in the drive. He says he must see you.

I’m afraid that something unpleasant has happened.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
Was he driving his car?

M
ONICA
.
                                                         No, he was walking.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
I hope he’s not had another accident.

You know, after that last escapade of his,

I’ve lived in terror of his running over somebody.

M
ONICA
.
Why, Father, should you be afraid of that?

This shows how bad your nerves have been.

He only ran into a tree.

L
ORD
C
LAVERTON
.
             Yes, a tree.