Part 28

LAMB. One or two things I want to say to you. Goodbye for the present.

GEOFFREY. Goodbye!

PHOEBE. Goodbye, old man. (She stretches out her hand.)

GEOFFREY. Goodbye. (She shakes hands with a smile, exchanges a casual “goodbye” with ELIZABETH.)

(They go towards the door.)

(SIGSBY re-enters.)

SIGSBY. (To LAMB.) Are you going?

LAMB. Yes. I’ll see you to-morrow morning. About ten o’clock.

SIGSBY. I shall be here. (He exchanges a “good afternoon” with the others.)

(They go out. SIGSBY crosses and goes into the other room.)

ANNYS. (She has let fall the flowers on the table. She crosses to where GEOFFREY still stands by the desk, his back towards her. She stretches out her hand, touches him. He does not move.) Geoffrey!

(But still he takes no notice.)

I am so sorry. We must talk it over quietly—at home.

GEOFFREY. (He turns.) Home! I have no home. I have neither children nor wife. I keep a political opponent.

(ANNYS starts back with a cry. He crosses in front of her and seats himself at the table. The flowers are lying there; he throws them into the waste-paper basket.)

ANNYS. (She puts on her cloak, moves towards the door. Half-way she pauses, makes a movement towards him. But he will not see. Then a hard look comes into her eyes, and without another word she goes out, leaving the door open.)

(SIGSBY is heard moving in the other room.)

GEOFFREY. (He is writing.) Sigsby.

SIGSBY. Hallo!

GEOFFREY. That poster I told young Gordon I wouldn’t sanction, “The Woman spouting politics, the Man returning to a slattern’s home.”

(SIGSBY enters.)

SIGSBY. I have countermanded them.

GEOFFREY. Countermand them again. We shall want a thousand.

SIGSBY. (Can hardly believe his ears.)

GEOFFREY. (With a gesture round the room.) All of them. “A Man for Men!” “Save the Children!” “Guard your Homes!” All the damned collection. Order as many as you want.

SIGSBY. (His excitement rising.) I can go ahead. You mean it?

GEOFFREY. (He looks at him.) It’s got to be a fight! (A moment. He returns to his writing.) Telephone Hake that I shall be dining at the Reform Club.

CURTAIN.