The Second Mrs. Tanqueray by Arthur W. Pinero

Author:Arthur W. Pinero
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Remarried people -- Drama, Upper class -- England -- Drama, Prostitutes -- England -- Public opinion -- Drama, Tragedies, Prostitutes -- England -- Drama, Prostitutes -- Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Drama, Women -- Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Drama, Marriage -- Drama
Publisher: Standard Ebooks
Published: 2019-03-14T15:41:55+00:00

Act III

The draw­ing-room at “Higher­coombe.” Fa­cing the spec­tator are two large French win­dows, sheltered by a ver­andah, lead­ing into the garden; on the right is a door open­ing into a small hall. The fire­place, with a large mir­ror above it, is on the left-hand side of the room, and higher up in the same wall are double doors re­cessed. The room is richly fur­nished, and everything be­tokens taste and lux­ury. The win­dows are open, and there is moon­light in the garden.

Lady Or­reyed, a pretty, af­fected doll of a wo­man with a min­cing voice and flaxen hair, is sit­ting on the ot­to­man, her head rest­ing against the drum, and her eyes closed. Paula, look­ing pale, worn, and thor­oughly un­happy, is sit­ting at a table. Both are in sump­tu­ous din­ner-gowns.

Lady Or­reyed Open­ing her eyes. Well, I never! I dropped off! Feel­ing her hair. Just fancy! Where are the men?

Paula Icily. Out­side, smoking.

A Ser­vant enters with cof­fee, which he hands to Lady Or­reyed. Sir Ge­orge Or­reyed comes in by the win­dow. He is a man of about thirty-five, with a low fore­head, a re­ced­ing chin, a vacu­ous ex­pres­sion, and an omin­ous red­ness about the nose.

Lady Or­reyed Tak­ing cof­fee. Here’s Dodo.

Sir Ge­orge I say, the flies un­der the ver­andah make you swear. The Ser­vant hands cof­fee to Paula, who de­clines it, then to Sir Ge­orge, who takes a cup. Hi! wait a bit! He looks at the tray search­ingly, then puts back his cup. Never mind. Quietly to Lady Or­reyed. I say, they’re doo­ced sparin’ with their li­queur, ain’t they?

The Ser­vant goes out at win­dow.

Paula To Sir Ge­orge. Won’t you take cof­fee, Ge­orge?

Sir Ge­orge No, thanks. It’s get­tin’ near time for a whisky and po­tass. Ap­proach­ing Paula, re­gard­ing Lady Or­reyed ad­mir­ingly. I say, Birdie looks rip­pin’ to­night, don’t she?

Paula Your wife?

Sir Ge­orge Yaas—Birdie.

Paula Rip­pin’?

Sir Ge­orge Yaas.

Paula Quite—quite rip­pin’.

He moves round to the settee. Paula watches him with dis­taste, then rises and walks away. Sir Ge­orge falls asleep on the settee.

Lady Or­reyed Paula love, I fan­cied you and Aubrey were a little more friendly at din­ner. You haven’t made it up, have you?

Paula We? Oh, no. We speak be­fore oth­ers, that’s all.

Lady Or­reyed And how long do you in­tend to carry on this game, dear?

Paula Turn­ing away im­pa­tiently. I really can’t tell you.

Lady Or­reyed Sit down, old girl; don’t be so fid­gety. Paula sits on the up­per seat of the ot­to­man with her back to Lady Or­reyed. Of course, it’s my duty, as an old friend, to give you a good talk­ing-to—Paula glares at her sud­denly and fiercely—but really I’ve found one gets so many smacks in the face through in­ter­fer­ing in mat­ri­mo­nial squabbles that I’ve de­term­ined to drop it.

Paula I think you’re wise.

Lady Or­reyed However, I must say that I do wish you’d look at mar­riage in a more sol­emn light—just as I do, in fact. It is such a beau­ti­ful thing—mar­riage, and if people in our po­s­i­tion don’t re­spect it, and set a good ex­ample by liv­ing hap­pily with their hus­bands, what can

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