A. A. Milne

The Red House Mystery and Other Novels


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a letter or two at the start there hasn't been a Pamela.

      MISS FARRINGDON. But Gerald went on being successful?

      GERALD. Oh, Aunt Tabitha, Aunt Tabitha, if ever I were going to be conceited--and I don't think I am really--you'd soon stop it, wouldn't you? I wonder if you _do_ know me as well as you think. You think I'm all outside, don't you, and inside there's nothing?

      MISS FARRINGDON. Oh, you've got brains, I'll grant you that. You're the first Farringdon that's had any. Of the men, of course.

      GERALD. Oh, brains--I don't mean brains. But you think that everything only touches me on the surface, and that nothing ever goes deep inside. You don't believe I ever loved Pamela; you don't believe I love her now. You don't believe I've got a heart at all.

      MISS FARRINGDON. Well, you've never shown it. You've shown a lot of delightful things which silly people mistake for it--but that's all.

      GERALD (curtly). No, I've never shown my heart to anybody. Some people can't. (Gently) Perhaps I'll show it to Pamela on my wedding-day.

      MISS FARRINGDON. Dear me, have I been wrong all these years? I shouldn't like to think that. (After a pause) Any more news?

      GERALD (taking his thoughts off PAMELA). Yes. Now _this_ time, Aunt Tabitha, you'll really be as pleased as I am.

      MISS FARRINGDON. I wonder.

      GERALD. Oh yes, you will, because it's about your favourite--Bob.

      MISS FARRINGDON. So Bob's my favourite? I'm learning a good many things to-day.

      GERALD. He's coming back this afternoon.

      MISS FARRINGDON. Poor Bob! I'm glad he's finished with that part of it.

      GERALD. You think he's got the worst part coming? (Smiling at her) Aunt Tabitha, have you got any influence with your nephew?

      MISS FARRINGDON. You or Bob? (GERALD smiles and shakes his head.) Oh, you mean James?

      GERALD. It seems hard to realize that one's father is anybody else's nephew, but you _are_ his aunt, and--Oh, don't let him do anything stupid about Bob.

      MISS FARRINGDON. Bob's his own master; he's old enough to look after himself.

      GERALD. Yes, but he's got in the way of being looked after by other people. I wish _you_ would look after him and tell him what to do. It's going to be difficult for him. I expect he'll want to get away from all of us for a bit. Where's he going, and what's he going to do?

      MISS FARRINGDON (after a pause). When did you say Pamela was coming here?

      GERALD. To-morrow. _She'll_ help, of course.

      MISS FARRINGDON. Gerald, you've been very nice to me always; I don't know why I've been rather unkind to you sometimes.

      GERALD. What an idea! You know I've loved our little skirmishes.

      MISS FARRINGDON. That's because you've been happy, and haven't minded one way or another. But if ever you were in trouble, Gerald, I don't think I should be unsympathetic.

      GERALD. You dear, of course you wouldn't. But why do you say that now, just when I _am_ so happy?

      MISS FARRINGDON (getting up slowly). I'm feeling rather an old woman to-day. I think I'll go and lie down.

      GERALD (jumping up). I'll ring for your maid.

      MISS FARRINGDON. No, no; I'm not going upstairs, and I don't want a maid when I've got a great big nephew. Come and tuck me up on the sofa in the drawing-room; I shall be quite happy there.

      (She puts her hand on his arm, and they go together towards the door in front of the staircase.)

      MISS FARRINGDON. Poor Gerald!

      GERALD (laughing). Why poor? [They go out together.]

      [The door on the right at the back opens quietly and BOB comes in. He stands there for a moment looking at the hall, and then speaks over his shoulder to somebody behind him.]

      BOB. It's all right, there's nobody here.

      PAMELA. I wonder where Gerald is.

      BOB. You're sure he's down here?

      PAMELA. Yes, I had a letter from him; he told me he was going to be.

      BOB (going up to her). Pamela, you can't see him alone.

      PAMELA. I must. You can see him afterwards, but I must see him alone first. Poor Gerald!

      BOB. He never really loved you.

      PAMELA. I don't think he did really, but it will hurt him.

      BOB (eagerly). Say you're not sorry for what you're doing.

      PAMELA. Aren't I doing it?

      BOB. Say you love _me_ and not Gerald. Say you really love me, and it's not just because you are sorry for me.

      PAMELA. Oh, I have so much in my heart for you, Bob. I'm glad I'm marrying you. But you must always love me, and want me as you want me now.

      BOB (seizing her is his arms). By God! you'll get that. (He kisses her fiercely.)

      PAMELA (satisfied). Oh, Bob! Oh, Bob! I'm glad I found you at last. (She goes away from him and stands looking into the fire, one hand on the mantelpiece.)

      BOB. Shall I go and look for Gerald?

      PAMELA (looking into the fire). Yes. No. He'll come.

      BOB. You won't let him talk you round?

      PAMELA (looking up at him in surprise). Oh no; I'm quite safe now.

      BOB. I can never thank you for all you've done, for all you've been to me. When we are out of this cursd country, and I have you to myself, I will try to show you. (She says nothing, and he walks restlessly about the room. He picks up a hat and says) Hullo, Tommy's here.

      PAMELA (quickly). I don't want to see him, I don't want to see anybody. We must just tell Gerald and then go.

      BOB. Anybody might come at any moment. You should have let me write as I wanted to. Or waited till he came back to London.

      PAMELA. We've given up being cowards. Perhaps you'd better try and find him. We'll only tell Gerald. If we see the others, we'll just have to make the best of it.

      BOB (moving off towards the door in front of the staircase). All right. If I find him I'll send him in here. [He goes out.]

      (PAMELA drops into a chair and remains looking at the fire. GERALD, coming down from the gallery above, suddenly catches sight of her.)

      GERALD (rushing down the stairs). Pamela! Why, Pamela! (Excitedly) Why are you--You said tomorrow. Pamela, you said--Never mind, you're here. Oh, bless you! (PAMELA has got up to meet him, and he is now standing holding her hands, and looking at her happily.) Pamela's here; all's right with the world. (He leans forward to kiss her, but she stops him.)

      PAMELA (nervously). No, no; I've something to tell you, Gerald.

      GERALD. I've got a thousand things to tell _you_.

      PAMELA. Bob's here.