Part 25

GEOFFREY. You must be enjoying yourself just now.

ELIZABETH. (Makes a moue.) They insist on my being agreeable.

ANNYS. It’s so good for her. Teaches her self-control.

LAMB. I gather from Mrs. Spender, that in the perfect world there will be no men at all.

ELIZABETH. Oh, yes, they will be there. But in their proper place.

ST. HERBERT. That’s why you didn’t notice them.

(The DEPUTATION reaches the door. The sound of voices is heard.)

PHOEBE. She’s getting on very well. If she isn’t careful, she’ll end up by being a flirt.

(The DEPUTATION enters, guided by SIGSBY. Its number is five, two men and three women. Eventually they group themselves—some standing, some sitting—each side of GEOFFREY. The others gather round ANNYS, who keeps her seat at the opposite side of the table.)

SIGSBY. (Talking as he enters.) Exactly what I’ve always maintained.

HOPPER. It would make the husband quite an interesting person.

SIGSBY. (Cheerfully.) That’s the idea. Here we are, guv’nor. This is Mr. Chilvers.

(GEOFFREY bows, the DEPUTATION also. SIGSBY introduces a remarkably boyish-looking man, dressed in knickerbockers.)

SIGSBY. This is Mr. Peekin, who has kindly consented to act as spokesman. (To the DEPUTATION, generally.) Will you have some tea?

MISS BORLASSE. (A thick-set, masculine-featured lady, with short hair and heavy eyebrows. Her deep, decisive tone settles the question.) Thank you. We have so little time.

MR. PEEKIN. We propose, Mr. Chilvers, to come to the point at once. (He is all smiles, caressing gestures.)

GEOFFREY. Excellent.

PEEKIN. If I left a baby at your door, what would you do with it?

GEOFFREY. (For a moment he is taken aback, recovers himself.) Are you thinking of doing so?

PEEKIN. It’s not impossible.

GEOFFREY. Well, it sounds perhaps inhospitable, but do you know I really think I should ask you to take it away again.

PEEKIN. Yes, but by the time you find it there, I shall have disappeared—skedaddled.

HOPPER. Good. (He rubs his hands. Smiles at the others.)

GEOFFREY. In that case I warn you that I shall hand it over to the police.

PEEKIN. (He turns to the others.) I don’t myself see what else Mr. Chilvers could be expected to do.

MISS BORLASSE. He’d be a fool not to.

GEOFFREY. Thank you. So far we seem to be in agreement. And now may I ask to what all this is leading?

PEEKIN. (He changes from the debonnair to the dramatic.) How many men, Mr. Chilvers, leave their babies every year at the door of poverty-stricken women? What are they expected to do with them?