Act IV

The same room. Nine o'clock. Nobody present. The lamps are
lighted; but the curtains are not drawn. The window stands wide open;
and strings of Chinese lanterns are glowing among the trees outside,
with the starry sky beyond. The band is playing dance-music in the
garden, drowning the sound of the sea.

The waiter enters, shewing in Crampton and McComas. Crampton looks
cowed and anxious. He sits down wearily and timidly on the ottoman.


WAITER. The ladies have gone for a turn through the grounds to see
the fancy dresses, sir. If you will be so good as to take seats,
gentlemen, I shall tell them. (He is about to go into the garden
through the window when McComas stops him.)

McCOMAS. One moment. If another gentleman comes, shew him in
without any delay: we are expecting him.

WAITER. Right, sir. What name, sir?

McCOMAS. Boon. Mr. Boon. He is a stranger to Mrs. Clandon; so he
may give you a card. If so, the name is spelt B.O.H.U.N. You will not
forget.

WAITER (smiling). You may depend on me for that, sir. My own name
is Boon, sir, though I am best known down here as Balmy Walters, sir.
By rights I should spell it with the aitch you, sir; but I think it best
not to take that liberty, sir. There is Norman blood in it, sir; and
Norman blood is not a recommendation to a waiter.

McCOMAS. Well, well: "True hearts are more than coronets, and simple
faith than Norman blood."

WAITER. That depends a good deal on one's station in life, sir. If
you were a waiter, sir, you'd find that simple faith would leave you
just as short as Norman blood. I find it best to spell myself B.
double-O.N., and to keep my wits pretty sharp about me. But I'm taking
up your time, sir. You'll excuse me, sir: your own fault for being so
affable, sir. I'll tell the ladies you're here, sir. (He goes out into
the garden through the window.)

McCOMAS. Crampton: I can depend on you, can't I?

CRAMPTON. Yes, yes. I'll be quiet. I'll be patient. I'll do my
best.

McCOMAS. Remember: I've not given you away. I've told them it was
all their fault.

CRAMPTON. You told me that it was all my fault.

McCOMAS. I told you the truth.

CRAMPTON (plaintively). If they will only be fair to me!

McCOMAS. My dear Crampton, they won't be fair to you: it's not to be
expected from them at their age. If you're going to make impossible
conditions of this kind, we may as well go back home at once.

CRAMPTON. But surely I have a right---

McCOMAS (intolerantly). You won't get your rights. Now, once for
all, Crampton, did your promises of good behavior only mean that you
won't complain if there's nothing to complain of? Because, if so---
(He