some accidental leakage. She hates the very thought of self-advertisement.
Flora. Oh! I know. But I've always noticed she's somewhat unlucky in the matter of leakages. Your father ought to study plumbing.
Cedric. (Slightly impatient.) That's nothing. That's not what I wanted you to read. I hadn't even noticed that. Look! (Pointing to a paragraph.)
Flora. "Dissensions in the Cabinet. Extraordinary rumours."
Cedric. No, no. (Takes the paper and reads.) "The German Invasion. To-morrow, upon the conclusion of the Breslau meeting, Herr Klopstock will pack up his victorious new mono-plane and start for England. He announces his intention of trying within three weeks for the ten thousand pounds prize recently offered by the Aero Club to the first aviator who flies over Snowdon. Herr Klopstock, who has already, we understand, taken the whole of a hotel at Beddgelert for the accommodation of his staff, is convinced that his machine will rise easily to at least four thousand feet. The Kaiser has just christened the aeroplane the Black Eagle, by telegraph, and has assured the renowned aviator and ex-professor of the heartiest good wishes of himself and his house. His youngest grandchild, Prince – um – um – Fatherland – um – The news will certainly create a considerable sensation in England as it has done in Germany." I should say it would.
Flora. Why should it?
Cedric. What! The Kaiser's Black Eagle flying over the highest mountain in England, and getting ten thousand pounds for the job! It's unthinkable! How does it strike you?
Flora. It strikes me that it would have been much simpler and less expensive not to have offered the ten thousand pounds. It's altogether too tempting. Besides, it seems to me anybody ought to be able to fly over a little thing like Snowdon, seeing how they sail over the Pyrenees and all that sort of thing.
Cedric. My adorable child, don't talk like a member of the public. Henceforth you are in the know. The fogs alone make Snowdon worse than the Pyrenees. And then the Aero Club has been clever enough to ordain that the aviator is to start and land within four miles of the summit. How is a man to get off on such ground, and where is he to land without breaking wood? And then the business of finding his way! He's bound to do a lot of corkscrewing to get up, and nothing less than six thousand feet would be safe.
Flora. (With a gesture dismissing all that.) Well, I don't think it's quite nice of Mr. Klopstock. It ought to have occurred to him. But then, it never does seem to occur to Germans… I've often noticed that in hotels. They don't seem to perceive. (Different tone.) Will he succeed?
Cedric. He might. I don't think he would; not with his present horse-power; but he just might.
Flora. Well, most probably he won't. And then you can try in July as you originally intended, and get the money after all. Then there will have been some sense in the prize, anyway.
Cedric. It isn't the money.
Flora. Surely it isn't the mountain?
Cedric. (Following his own thought.) We've got to come out on top in this business. I must get to business in the middle of next week. It'll take a day to modify those wingtips, and another to tune her up. Oh! I shall be ready long before he is. But I'll give him a chance to get nicely installed in his hotel. I should like Herr Klopstock and his crew to admire the beautiful scenery.
Flora. (Casually.) You must be at the works next week?
Cedric. It's me or nobody! No use trying to disguise that fact, Fluff!
Flora. Perhaps in the heat of the moment you've forgotten that you happened to get married this morning, Cedric.
Cedric. I wish we hadn't happened to get married this morning. (She looks at him.) I mean, I wish we'd happened to get married a week ago. Frantic nuisance! However, there you are! It simply means we shall be fixed up a bit sooner in the flat —
Flora. But the flat won't be anything like ready by next week.
Cedric. Never mind, we'll sleep at the Grand Babylon, or in the backyard. (A little pause.) Of course as a nuisance it completely baffles description… To-day of all days… However, Fluff, as I said before with profound truth – there you are! It would never do in this world to give the German lot even a chance. The thing's too spectacular – altogether too spectacular. If it was a question of beating us quietly and for ever in technics or manufacture, the B.P. wouldn't think twice about it; but Snowdon is Snowdon, and a black eagle is a black eagle, and (comically) in short, madam, England will turn to your husband in its hour of peril. In other words, Fluff, it's up to me.
Flora. (Lightly.) I say, Cedric.
Cedric. Well?
Flora. I thought we were agreed about a full calendar month.
Cedric. (After a pause; as lightly as possible.) Do you mean you think I ought to let Snowdon slide? Do you really —
Flora. Yes, of course. Don't you?
Cedric. You aren't serious?
Flora. (Persuasively.) My dearest boy, is there any reason why I shouldn't differ from you and yet be serious?
Cedric. No, of course not. But in a case like this – if there was anybody else to take my place, I wouldn't mind. Of course Smith-James could do it if only he would use our machine – but he won't. Nothing would induce him to. So as I keep on saying – there you are!
Flora. But what does it matter? Is it because the other man's machine has been called the Black Eagle in a telegram that you —
Cedric. Yes, partly.
Flora. Oh! So that if this canvas-backed duck flies first over a lump of mud called Snowdon —
Cedric. But don't I tell you Snowdon is the highest mountain in England?
Flora. No, it isn't.
Cedric. Pardon me. Three thousand five hundred and seventy feet. The next highest is —
Flora. Well, you go and tell Lloyd George that Snowdon is the highest mountain in England, and see what you'll get.
Cedric. Wales, then. It's all the same.
Flora. (With great charm.) If you're thinking of the ten thousand pounds, I don't mind informing you, as a great secret, that I wouldn't sell a single day of my honeymoon with you for ten times ten thousand pounds. But I told you I wanted an expensive honeymoon, didn't I?
Cedric. (Shaking his head and with calm certainty.) The money doesn't influence me that much! (Snaps his fingers.) I don't wish to flatter myself, but I think I could light your cigarette with a bank note as gracefully as anybody. No —
Flora. You're pulling away at that cigar of yours, but I suppose you know it isn't lighted.
Cedric. Isn't it? (As he lights the cigar.) No! This Snowdon business. Well, it's a symbol (half to himself). I wonder how I can make you understand that.
Flora. (Fascinatingly.) Oh! Force is unnecessary, I understand that. But who was it said just now that the honeymoon was a symbol? It stands for all our married life. It's the most exciting and interesting time we shall ever have. And you can't put a honeymoon off, you know. It isn't like a box of cigars that you can keep in a cupboard and enjoy one of them every now and then when you've got a few minutes to spare. It must happen now or never. You can't postpone it. You can only kill it. (Smiles lightly.)
Cedric. (Taking hold of her, in a caressing tone.) She's tragic!
Flora. (Disengaging herself.) Oh, no!
Cedric. Now just listen to me, Fluff. I'm really thinking at least as much of you as of myself. This affair is bound to have an influence on my career.
Flora. And what about its influence on mine?
Cedric. Same thing. I suppose our interests are identical.
Flora. My poor simple boy, do you really believe that?
Cedric. Well, dash it, aren't you my wife?
Flora. So far as I'm concerned, it would be more correct to say that