and child. (HER VOICE IS LOW, SO THAT MARGARET SHAN’T HEAR HER, BUT VEHEMENT.)
(jenny RUNS IN. mrs ommaney’s FACE IS FROM HER.)
JENNY (EXCITEDLY). I see him coming.
MRS OMMANEY. Ah!
JENNY (opening bedroom door and entering). He’s coming, Miss Margaret.
(She goes out of sight, MRS. OMMANEY stares at entrance, waving to him to come quickly. She is gloating. The door has been left open and MARGARET can be heard again.)
MARGARET. He is coming, baby! Paul is coming; I am so happy, I could dance. Look, look!
(She is heard and seen dancing and humming a nursery song. MRS. OMMANEY gloats over this, rubbing her hands together with glee, stopping now and again to wave to PAUL to come in, and then pointing at bedroom. Presently MARGARET ceases. MRS. OMMANEY is now staring at bedroom door. A vacant look comes into her face; she looks about her as if uncertain where she is; her eyes identify nothing as they roam about the room. She is frightened. She sees door of bedroom, and a gleam of intelligence comes back. She moves arms again as if conducting dancing and hums MARGARET’S song, then sinks into chair and now stares straight before her, muttering, as if in fear, to herself. She begins to shake; the shaking becomes more violent, until her arms are striking the sides of the chair and her feet are rattling on the floor. When it lessens and stops, her face is now foolish but sweet; she simpers to herself amiably. Enter JENNY, MRS. OMMANEY looks at her sweetly but without recognition.)
JENNY. Oh, ma’am! (Shrinks.)
MRS. OMMANEY (puzzled). Who are YOU?
JENNY (CALLING). Miss Margaret.
(Enter MARGARET. She sees mrs ommaney’s condition and shrinks.)
Oh, Miss Margaret, she IS — the same as that other time.
MRS OMMANEY (TO MARGARET). Miss Margaret! Is that your name?
MARGARET. Poor woman!
MRS OMMANEY (SWEETLY). Poor woman? I remember.
(LOOKS SOFTLY AT MARGARET.) It was my wedding day and you were there; I was so happy, but you, poor woman.
MARGARET. Jenny, she is confusing me with herself.
JENNY (TO mrs ommaney). Come and lie down.
MRS OMMANEY. I was in my wedding gown but you —
(PROUDLY) He preferred me, you know.
(MARGARET sits tearfully.)
Don’t cry, pretty dear. (GOING PITYINGLY TO HER) Shall I let you see my love’s portrait? It is on this locket — (ON HER NECK) — I can’t open it.
JENNY. Come and see baby.
MRS OMANNEY (VACANTLY). Baby? (LOOKING AT BEDROOM)
So that’s your baby! And you look such a good one!
(GIGGLING) Miss Margaret! (BECOMING SWEET AGAIN AS SHE SEES MARGARET IS DISTRESSED) I won’t tell. But you mustn’t call yourself Miss Margaret. Call yourself Mrs. Margaret — then no one will know. (NODS AS IF THIS WERE A CLEVER IDEA.)
(A knock at door.)
MARGARET (starting). Paul!
MRS OMMANEY. We are to be married and I am not dressed yet.
(Exit into bedroom hurriedly with JENNY, MARGARET meets PAUL as he enters.)
PAUL (in high spirits). Margaret, it is all arranged.
MARGARET (clinging to him). I thought you were never coming.
PAUL. Lady Janet detained me. She stayed last night at Old Keep but is on her way home now.
MARGARET. You have seen auntie?
PAUL. I left her in the postoffice but I had to tell her you were visiting your old nurse. (DOLEFULLY) And, of course, she said she must see you.
MARGARET. But, Paul, this is not nurse’s house. Mrs. Ommaney is here —
PAUL. What! (He is like one turned to stone!)
MARGARET. And, poor lady, she —
JENNY (calling excitedly). Miss Margaret!
MARGARET. Oh!
(Enter mrs ommaney; she has flung a gay shawl over her shoulders and enters simpering over her appearance. She takes Paul’s presence as a matter of course, jenny stands at bedroom door.)
MRS OMMANEY. Naughty man, where are the flowers?
(Displaying herself in shawl) How do you like it? It is my wedding gown. Is the cab at the door? (Trips to window.)
PAUL. My God!
MARGARET. It is heartrending.
PAUL. What does it mean?
MARGARET. She has been like this, it seems, more than once before. She has been ill, Paul, and that and the great sorrow that has come into her life have affected her brain at times.
JENNY. Oh, sir, she was quite sensible just a minute since.
PAUL. But I can’t —
MARGARET. Humour her, Paul — I will explain afterwards.
JENNY. Come and rest, ma’am — come. (TRYING TO TAKE MRS. OMMANEY TO SOFA.)
MRS. OMMANEY. Rest — when I am going to be married?
MARGARET (GOING TO HER). You ARE married now. The cab has brought you back.
MRS. OMMANEY (to PAUL). Am I?
(MARGARET signs to him to agree.)
PAUL. Yes.
MRS. ommaney (gleefully as a child). I am married! (With grand dignity to jenny) DO YOU KNOW WHO I am? I am Mrs. Margaret.
(JENNY TRIES TO TAKE HER TO SOFA.)
MARGARET (TO PAUL). Don’t you see, Paul, she has confused me with herself.
MRS. OMMANEY (holding out her arms to PAUL). You — I want you.
MARGARET (TO PAUL). Yes, humour her. She thinks you are her husband.
PAUL. You will lie down, won’t you?
(paul HELPS MRS. ommaney TO SOFA, WHERE SHE SITS. EXIT jenny INTO BEDROOM.)
MRS OMMANEY (WITH CHILDISH WONDER). Those skinny arms, are they mine? How tiny the wrist has grown, how thin the fingers. (TO PAUL, PLAINTIVELY) You will never weary of me again? When I bore you, you won’t say it, will you? You will say instead, ‘Poor little thin fingers, poor little pretty ways, all gone, all gone!’ MARGARET (PUTTING HAND ON Paul’s SHOULDER). Paul, I begin to think he is not dead. I believe he deserted her!
PAUL. No — not that!
MRS. OMMANEY (striking MARGARET’S arm off PAUL). Hands off!
MARGARET. Did he desert you?
MRS OMMANEY (LOOKING UP). Where is it — the letter? I left it on the mantelpiece — long, long ago.
PAUL (EAGERLY). Yes, tell her what was in the letter!
MRS OMMANEY (CONFIDENTIALLY). I said in it that I was leaving him because I had ceased to care for him. (GIGGLES.)
MARGARET. You left him!
(mrs ommaney NODS AS IF SHE HAD DONE A CLEVER THING.)
PAUL (EAGERLY). You see, Margaret, he was not so bad as you thought.
MARGARET. But why did you leave him?
MRS OMMANEY (WAILING). Because I loved him so!
(PAUL at back of sofa is much startled.)
He! he! he! He hated the life, I bored him, he hungered to be free —
MARGARET. Did he say that?
(paul IS MORE AND MORE