to tell me, Bob?
BOB (looking away). What would there be?
MISS FARRINGDON. I'm a wise old woman, they say, and I don't talk.
BOB. I don't think you can help me. Er--thanks very much.
MISS FARRINGDON (quite naturally, as she turns towards the door). If you don't mind giving me your arm.
(As they get to the door they are met by GERALD and PAMELA coming in.)
GERALD. Hullo, Bob, we were just coming back for you.
MISS FARRINGDON. Thoughtful Gerald.
GERALD. Pamela's idea. She thought that the elder members of the family could discuss life more freely unhampered by the younger generation.
PAMELA. What I really said was, "Where's Bob?"
GERALD. Well, it's the same thing.
MISS FARRINGDON. Bob is looking after me, thank you very much. [They go out together.]
GERALD (after watching them go, to PAMELA). Stay here a bit. There are too many people and dogs and things outside. Come and sit on the sofa and I'll tell you all the news. (He takes her hand and they go to the sofa together.) What ages you've been away!
PAMELA. An hour and a half. And it need not have been that if you'd come with me.
GERALD (taking her hand). If I had come with you, I would have held your hand all the way.
PAMELA. I shouldn't have minded.
GERALD. But just think what would have happened: You would have had to have driven with one hand down all the hills; we should have had a smash-up before we got halfway; a well-known society beauty and a promising young gentleman in the Foreign Office would have been maimed for life; and Bob would have to have walked here carrying his portmanteau. Besides, I love you going away from me when you come back. You've only got to come into the room, and the sun seems to shine.
PAMELA. The sun always shines on Gerald.
GERALD. Does it? That's a different sort of sunshine. Not the gentle caressing September afternoon sunshine which you wear all round you. (She is looking at him lovingly and happily as he says this, but she withdraws into herself quickly as he pulls himself up and says with a sudden change of tone) Dear me, I'm getting quite poetical, and two minutes ago I was talking to Wentworth about fetlocks.
PAMELA (getting up). Oh, Gerald, Gerald!
GERALD (getting up and smiling at her). Oh, Pamela, Pamela!
PAMELA. I wonder how much you really want me.
GERALD. I'll show you when we're married. I don't think I could even begin to tell you now.
PAMELA (wistfully). Couldn't you try?
(GERALD catches hold of her suddenly, and holding her tightly to him, kisses her again and again.)
GERALD. There!
PAMELA (releasing herself). Oh, Gerald, my darling, you frighten me sometimes.
GERALD. Did I frighten you then?
PAMELA (happily). Oh, no, no, no, no! (Earnestly) Always want me very much, Gerald. Always be in need of me. Don't be too successful without me. However much the sun shines on you, let me make it gentler and more caressing for you.
GERALD. It is so, darling. Didn't I say so?
PAMELA. Ah, but I want such a lot of telling.
GERALD (laughing happily as he goes over to the table by the fireplace and takes a cigarette). Who was the fellow who threw something into the sea because he was frightened by his own luck? What shall I throw? (Looking at a presentation clock on the mantelpiece) That's rather asking for it. In a way it would be killing two birds with one stone. Oh, Lord, I am lucky!
PAMELA (coming to him and taking his arm). As long as you don't throw me.
GERALD. Pamela, you're talking rubbish. I talk a good deal myself, but I do keep within the bounds. Let's go and chatter to Bob about contangos. I don't know what they are, but they sound extraordinarily sober.
PAMELA (gently). Poor old Bob!
GERALD (quickly). Why _poor_ old Bob?
PAMELA. He's worried about something. I tried to get him to tell me as we came from the station, but he wouldn't.
GERALD. Poor old Bob! I suppose things are going up--or down, or something. Brokerage one-eighth--that's what's worrying him, I expect.
PAMELA. I think he wants to talk to you about it. Be nice to him, darling, won't you?
GERALD (surprised). Nice to him?
PAMELA. You know what I mean--sympathetic. I know it's a difficult relationship--brothers.
GERALD. All relationships are difficult. But after you, he's the person I love best in the world. (With a laugh) But I don't propose to fall on his neck and tell him so.
PAMELA (smiling). I know you will help him if you can.
GERALD. Of course I will, though I don't quite see how. (Hopefully) Perhaps he's only slicing his drives again.
PAMELA. Oh, I love you, Gerald. (Wonderingly) _Do_ I love you, or am I only just charmed by you?
GERALD. You said you loved me once. You can't go back on that.
PAMELA. Then I love you. And make a century for me on Monday.
GERALD. Well, I'll try. Of course the bowler may be in love too. But even if I get out first ball, I can say, "Well, anyhow, Pamela loves me."
PAMELA. Oh, I think I hope you get out first ball.
GERALD. Baby Pamela.
PAMELA. And on Thursday we shall be alone together here, and you've promised to take me out in the boat for the day.
GERALD. You mean you've promised to let me.
PAMELA. What happy days there are in the world!
[Enter BOB from the garden.]
GERALD. Hullo, Bob. Tea? (He moves towards the door.)
BOB. Cigarettes. (He goes over to the fireplace and fills his cigarette case.)
GERALD. Still, I expect tea's nearly ready.
PAMELA (going towards door R. at the back). I'll join you; I'm not going out without a sunshade again. [Exit.]
(There is an awkward silence.)
BOB (to GERALD). I say!
GERALD (turning round). Hullo!
BOB. Just wait a moment.
(GERALD comes back slowly.)
GERALD. I warn you those are rotten cigarettes. (Holds out his own case)
BOB (taking one). Thanks. (Awkwardly) You're so confoundedly difficult to get hold of nowadays. Never less than half-a-dozen all round you.
GERALD