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Title: Half an Hour
Author: Barrie, James Matthew (1860-1937)
Date of first performance: 1913
Date of first publication: 1928
Edition used as base for this ebook:
   London: Hodder and Stoughton, undated
   [Shall We Join the Ladies? And Other One-Act Plays]
Date first posted: 24 October 2011
Date last updated: 24 October 2011
Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #876

This ebook was produced by: Delphine Lettau
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team
at http://www.pgdpcanada.net






HALF AN HOUR


_Mr. Garson, who is a financier, and his young wife, the lovely Lady
Lilian, are in their mansion near Park Lane, but they are not at home
this evening to the public eye; they are in the midst of a brawl which,
it may be hoped, does not show them at their best. There is such a
stirring time before them, and only half an hour for it, that we must
not keep them waiting. Indeed they have so much to do that we challenge
them to do it._

LADY LILIAN (_a frozen flower_). Why don't you strike me, Richard? I am
a woman, and there is no one within call.

GARSON. A woman! You useless thing, that is just what you are not.

     (_It is evidently his honest if mistaken opinion, and he pushes her
     from him so roughly that she lies on the couch as she fell, in a
     touching but perhaps rather impertinent little heap._)

LILIAN (_who, though a dear woman to some, has a genius for putting her
finger on the raw of those she does not favour_). How strong you are,
husband mine! No wonder I love you! Now as I have told you why I love
you, won't you tell me why you love me?

     (_He fumes inarticulately while she takes off her hat and coat,
     perhaps in search of that homey feeling._)

How you have ruffled me! (_She considers her frock._) You know, I can't
make up my mind whether green is really my colour. What do you think?
Which colour do you like best to knock me about in, Richard?

GARSON (_with his fists clenched though they are not upraised_). You
take care!

LILIAN (_as he stamps the floor_). Do you mind telling me what all this
scene has been about?

GARSON. You have me there. But how does it matter what it is that sets a
pair like you and me saying what we think of each other?

LILIAN. True. But we knew what we thought of each other before.

GARSON. We did. And I've said to that father of yours----

LILIAN. By the way, I never heard how much you paid Pops for me?

GARSON. One way or another, a good twenty thousand.

LILIAN. I can't help feeling proud.

GARSON. If I could have got you for half I wouldn't have had you.

LILIAN. How like you to say that, Richard! Still, there are other
pretties for whom you could have had the satisfaction of paying more.
There must have been some--dear reason--why you flung the handkerchief
to me?

GARSON. Your rotten old families, all so poor and so well turned out.
The come-on look in the melting eyes of you, and the disdain of you. I
suppose they went to my head. You were the worst, so I chose you.

LILIAN (_clapping her hands_). I won!

GARSON. Oh, you didn't need to come to me unless you liked.

LILIAN (_shivering_). I admit that. It was your money that brought me.

GARSON. Quite so.

LILIAN (_with a sincerity that makes us hopeful of her_). I'm sorry,
Richard, for both of us.

GARSON. Pooh!

LILIAN. You must at least allow that I never pretended it was anything
but your wealth that drew me.

GARSON. I never wanted it to be anything else.

LILIAN. How like you again! Perhaps that is even some little
excuse--though not very much--for me.

GARSON (_sneering_). Soft sawder!

LILIAN. I dare say. (_Surveying the man with curiosity_). Why don't we
end it?

GARSON (_bellowing_). Do you know whom you are talking to? With my name
in the City----

LILIAN. Of course. But if you won't, Richard, has it never struck you
that some day I----

GARSON (_grinning_). Never!

LILIAN. You have a mighty faith in me.

GARSON. Mighty.

LILIAN. May I ask why?

     (_He comes up to her and taps her bodice._)

GARSON. In this expensive little breast you know why. (_In case there
should be any misunderstanding he slaps his pocket._)

LILIAN. I see.

GARSON. Tragic lot yours, isn't it?

LILIAN. More tragic than you understand.

GARSON. Bought when you were too young to know what you were doing!

LILIAN. Not so young but that I should have known.

GARSON. Such a rare exquisite creature, too, as you know yourself to
be.

LILIAN (_with abnegation_). As I know I am not. But as I long to be. As
I think I could be.

GARSON. As you think you could be, had you married a better man.

LILIAN. Mock me, you have some right, but it may be truer than you
think.

GARSON. It is what they tell you, I don't doubt.

LILIAN. Who tell me?

GARSON. The live-on-papa cubs.

LILIAN (_shrugging her shoulders_). If I were to let them tell me what
they would like to say----

GARSON (_possibly with some penetration_). You do, my pet, and when they
have finished you tell them they mustn't say it; and your lip trembles
and one sad tear sits on your sweet eyes, the same little tear that
comes when you have overdrawn your bank account.

LILIAN. How you read me!

GARSON. I think so. I think I know the stuff you are made of. I wouldn't
try heroics, Lilian; you can't live up to them.

LILIAN. I haven't the courage, I suppose?

GARSON. You have the pluck that let the French Jack-a-dandies go
tripping to the guillotine; and perhaps my breed hasn't. But when it
comes to living you've got to live on us, my girl.

LILIAN (_rising and facing him_). Oh, if--if----

GARSON. If--if you were to show me! I am not nervous. In the end you
will always be true to Number One. I have thought you out.

LILIAN (_on fire_). If I did?

GARSON. If you did--if you tried to play any game on me----

     (_He takes grip of her by the wrist._)

LILIAN (_in her earlier manner_). Would it be the knife, Richard, or
Desdemona's pillow?

GARSON. If you brought any shame on me, before I put you to the door I
would--I would break you!

LILIAN. If I did it I wouldn't be here to break.

GARSON. By the powers, it would be as well for you.

LILIAN. Unless you wish to do the breaking now, please let go my wrist.

     (_He throws it from him, and their colloquy ends with these
     terrible words:_)

GARSON. Dinner at half-past, I suppose?

LILIAN. I suppose so.

     (_When she is alone we see some great resolution struggling into
     life in her and adorning her. It means among other things, we may
     conclude, that she does not purpose joining him at dinner. She
     writes a brief letter, puts her wedding-ring in the envelope and
     deposits the explosive in the nearest drawer of his desk. On top
     of it she throws all the jewellery she is wearing and closes the
     drawer. She puts on her hat and coat, and after a last look in a
     glass at the face she is leaving behind her--the only face of her
     that_ GARSON _knows--she leaves his house_.


     _Two hundred yards away is a mews, where odd brainy
     people--afterwards sorry for themselves--have here and there made
     romantic homes, all tiny but not all over the garages that have
     supplanted stables. This one where_ HUGH PATON _lodges is a
     complete house, and we find him in a snug room, though it is only
     reached by a brief ladder which he frequently jumps. At present the
     room is in disorder, the fire extinguished by the masses of paper
     he has dumped on it, and he himself is tousled and in disarray. He
     has not quite finished an extensive packing, and has reached the
     point of wondering whether he should reopen that bulging bag to put
     those old football boots in it, or leave them for the good of the
     house. He is whistling gaily, with broken intervals in which his
     pipe is in his mouth, and he has a very honest face._

     _To him enters with a rush the little daughter of the house, whose
     heart he has won by lifting his hat to her in the mews. She has
     walked with more dignity ever since, and she is twelve._)


SUSIE. You will be stamping at me, sir, but there is a lady, and though
I told her you were just putting on your muffler to start for Egypt, up
she would come.

     (_Up she does come, and she is_ LILIAN. _When_ SUSIE _sees how
     these two look at each other she knows all, and indeed more, and
     out of respect for Love she goes down the ladder on her tiptoes_.)

HUGH (_surprised, but with outstretched arms_). You! Oh, my dear!

     (_She will not let him embrace her yet._)

LILIAN (_the soft-eyed, the tremulous_). No, Hugh. Please listen to me
first. You see I have changed my mind, and come after all. Yes, I am
here to go with you, if you will have me still. But oh, my Hugh, let
there be no mistake. Don't have me, dear, if you would rather--rather
not.

     (_He clasps her to him, and of course she was sure he would._)

It isn't really a shock to you, is it? Hugh, you don't despise me in
your heart for coming?

HUGH. Dear, my dear!

LILIAN (_merely playing with the idea_). You are so fond of
Egypt--perhaps it would be lovelier for you to go back to it alone.

     (_We are sorry she says this, for she has put it into our own
     heads. They are about the same age, but as they sit there on one of
     his trunks he looks younger._)

HUGH (_who is far from agreeing with us_). Egypt, without you? Horrible!

LILIAN. Was it seeming horrible before I came up the ladder?

HUGH (_abashed_). Inconceivable if it wasn't.

LILIAN. You were able to smoke.

HUGH. Mechanically. (_He remembers guiltily that he was even
whistling._) Lilian, that man packing wasn't me. I only began to be
again when you lit up the doorway. Tell me, what made you change your
mind so suddenly?

LILIAN. Not suddenly. I longed to go to you, but I was his wife. Hugh,
did you hear me say I _was_ his wife? What a lovely way of putting it!

HUGH. My wife now and always.

LILIAN. The things he said to-night!

HUGH. There, there, that is all over. You wrote the letter?

LILIAN. Yes, and left it for him.

HUGH. You said in it that it was to me you were coming? I asked that of
you because I want it all to be above-board. I am not afraid of him.

LILIAN. Yes, I said in it that I was going away with you, and I put his
wedding-ring inside it. I have burned all my boats. Oh, Hugh, if it had
turned out that you would rather not!

HUGH. A nice sort of gent I'd be.

LILIAN. He thinks me a rotten, shallow creature. No, don't interrupt.
Perhaps I was so with him, dear. What was bad in each of us seemed to
call to the other.

HUGH. If yours ever calls to me I won't recognise the voice.

LILIAN. He said that in any test I would always go where my bread was
best buttered.

HUGH. He will see his mistake when he finds you have come to me. (_He
starts up_) I say! We mustn't be late. Not another word if you love me.
Try to make these catches snap, while I sit on the trunk. What are you
smiling at?

LILIAN. I have just remembered, Hugh, that there were people coming to
dinner to-night!

HUGH (_rising triumphant from his struggle with the trunk_). I have
just remembered something more important. (_With accusing finger_)
Woman, where is your trousseau?

LILIAN. I have only what you see, my dear. Here is all the riches I
bring you--four and sixpence. Please take care of my dowry for me, Hugh!

HUGH. You poor one! But what fun to buy you a trousseau at Brindisi--if
not before.

     (_He rings._)

LILIAN (_catching his gaiety_). Are you proposing to send out a servant
to get a trousseau for me?

HUGH. What a capital idea! (_As the little maid arrives_) Susie, skip
across to the nearest draper's and buy me a trousseau.

SUSIE. A what, sir?

HUGH. I can only give you ten minutes--lots of time--sure to have them
in stock--need of the age--all ready in Christmas hampers. (_Looking_
LILIAN _over_) Size five and a half by one and a quarter--hurry, old
'un, fly.

SUSIE. Whatever do he mean?

LILIAN. He only means that he wants a taxi.

SUSIE. Oh, that! Mother's gone out, and you know what father is, sir,
but I'll get it myself.

HUGH. No, you don't, Susie, not in the rain. Back in a jiffy, Lilian.

     (_He is gone, and they hear his boisterous leap of the ladder._)

SUSIE. He is just bubbling over, and all because he is going off to make
dams.

LILIAN (_asking too much_). Has he been bubbling over for long, Susie?

SUSIE (_innocently giving it_). For days and days. I used to think of
him out in Egypt in a very dirty state till I saw a picture of him, all
in laundry white, and riding on a camel.

LILIAN. The camel goes on its knees to him, Susie.

SUSIE (_heartily_). I don't wonder at it. (_She is on her own knees
giving those finishing touches to the baggage which she knows can only
come from a woman's hands._) There was a thing about him in the paper,
and it said 'The ball is at his feet.'

LILIAN. And it is. A great career.

SUSIE (_looking sometimes six and sometimes sixty_). For him. But I have
just to make ready for another lodger. That is all the great career
there is for the likes of me. (_Wistfully_) I'm thinking there is a
great career for you.

LILIAN (_smiling_). How, Susie?

SUSIE. Him. (_She rises._) I wonder would you let me see it. I have
never seen them except in shop windows.

LILIAN. What?

SUSIE. Fine you know. The thing that is on the third finger of your left
hand.

LILIAN (_showing a bare finger_). Nothing, you see.

SUSIE (_sharp_). You haven't landed him yet?

     (_She is so disappointed that_ LILIAN _is kind._)

LILIAN. All is lovely, Susie.

SUSIE (_who must have it plainer than that_). You've got him?

LILIAN. I've got him.

SUSIE. Lucky you!

LILIAN. Yes, lucky me. You mustn't grudge him to me, Susie. I haven't
always been lucky with men.

SUSIE. Men--oh, men! Most men deserves all they gets. (_She screws up
her eyes and opens them to explain._) I was just seeing you and him on
your camels.

     (_There is a knocking on the outer door._)

LILIAN. There he is.

SUSIE. I haven't got back his key. (_She knows the familiar sounds of
the mews._) It's not him. There is something wrong.

LILIAN. Quick, Susie.

     (_The child is gone for a moment, and_ LILIAN _is conscious of some
     disturbance in the passage below_.)

SUSIE (_reappearing, terrified_). Oh, miss!

LILIAN. Tell me.

SUSIE. They are carrying him into his bedroom.

LILIAN. Not Mr. Paton? Speak!

SUSIE. It's him! He was run over.

     (_She disappears again, but the tramp of feet is heard through the
     open door. A grave man comes up the ladder. He is wearing an
     overcoat and muffler and he closes the door._)

DR. BRODIE. Poor lady! I suppose you----

LILIAN. Tell me!

DR. BRODIE. He was run over by a motor bus. It is very serious.

LILIAN. Tell me!

DR. BRODIE. I must tell you. He is dead.

LILIAN. No, he isn't.

DR. BRODIE. He died as they picked him up.

LILIAN. It isn't true.

DR. BRODIE. A Mr. Paton, they tell me. I don't know him. I am a doctor
and I happened to be passing. He only spoke one word.

LILIAN. My name?

DR. BRODIE. The word was Egypt.

LILIAN. He is going there. He had gone out for a taxi. So you see it
can't be true.

DR. BRODIE. It is true, alas. (_He gets her into a chair._) Mrs. Paton,
I want to help you in any way possible. There seems to be no one in the
house but a very useless man and a child. If you can give me the address
of any male relative----

LILIAN (_starting up._) You mustn't bring anyone here.

DR. BRODIE. Just to help you with--I don't quite--Excuse me, are you
Mrs. Paton? (_The pitiful look she gives him makes him avert his
troubled eyes._) I am sure you will understand that I have no wish to
intrude. But someone must communicate with the relatives. And of course
an inquiry----

LILIAN. You mean, I have no right to be here?

DR. BRODIE. I don't know whether you have a right or not. But you must
know. (_As she shrinks from him_) Pardon me, I won't disturb you any
longer.

LILIAN. Don't go. What am I to do?

DR. BRODIE. If it is well for him to have it publicly known that you
were here you will of course remain; but if it would not be well for
him, my advice to you--as you ask for it, unhappy lady, is to go at
once.

LILIAN (_throwing out her arms_). Where am I to go?

DR. BRODIE. I know nothing of the circumstances. I am only telling you
what I think might be best for him.

LILIAN (_dry-eyed_). Is there to be no thought of what would be best for
me?

DR. BRODIE (_gently_). Might it not be best for you also?

LILIAN. I have nowhere to go--nowhere.

     (_Perhaps he does not quite believe her, but if his manner hardens
     it is only to gain his point._)

DR. BRODIE. Better that I should know nothing.

LILIAN. I am not what you think me.

DR. BRODIE. No one is. But prove it, madam, by going.

LILIAN. What is to become of me? (_He shakes his head._) I loved him--I
risked everything for him--I am lost.

DR. BRODIE. Those who risk all and lose have to face the consequences.

LILIAN. I was going with him.

     (_He might say, "You can go with him still, unfortunate one, if you
     choose," but of course he does not. Instead he opens the door
     respectfully. She bows, gives him a pitiful smile of thanks and
     goes away._


     _Let us return to_ GARSON'S _house and see how his little dinner is
     faring_.

     _As_ MR. GARSON _enters the room in evening dress, his bad temper
     removed with his clothes, he meets his butler_.)

GARSON. Have I time to write a note, Withers?

WITHERS. It is two minutes short of the half-hour, sir.

GARSON (_going to his desk_). Her ladyship not down yet?

WITHERS. I believe not, sir.

GARSON. She isn't usually late. I didn't hear her in her room.

WITHERS. Shall I send up to inquire, sir?

GARSON. Oh, no, she will be down directly, no doubt.

     (_He sits at a desk and unlocks a drawer with his keys. It is the
     fatal drawer. Stretching out his hand for some papers he knows
     to be there, it encounters something metallic, which he draws
     out. Without rising he feels for further jewellery, but there
     is evidently no more. He has recognised his find but has no
     suspicions, and is sitting there chuckling over it when_ WITHERS
     _announces two guests_, MR. _and_ MRS. REDDING, _both exuding
     opulence_.)

REDDING. You seem to be having a little joke all to yourself, Garson.

GARSON. Ah, welcome both.

MRS. REDDING. But the joke?

     (_For reply their host holds up the jewels._)

REDDING. My eye! No joke for the party that footed the bill.

GARSON. I put my hand into that drawer for some papers, and it found
these instead.

REDDING. All I can say is "Halves."

MRS. REDDING. Silly man, they are Lady Lilian's. I know them quite well.

GARSON. The joke, Redding, is that I now see why my wife is late for
dinner.

MRS. REDDING. It is we who are early; but tell us.

GARSON. She must have shoved them in there--(_with a certain pride_) her
set are more careless than ours--and then forgotten where she put them.
I bet she is searching high and low for them at this moment.

MRS. REDDING (_who would like to say that her set can be fashionably
careless also_). The poor dear! But suppose some servant, the awful man
who winds the clocks----

GARSON. Oh, they were safe enough. She had happened to find the drawer
unlocked but she had the sense to shut it, and all these drawers lock
when they shut. (_He shuts the drawer and it clicks, perhaps an effort
to tell its master something._) I have the only key. (_He puts the
jewels into his pocket and greets another guest._)

WITHERS. Dr. Brodie.

GARSON. Very pleased to see you, Brodie, in my little place.

DR. BRODIE. Thank you, Garson. (_He presumes that_ MRS. REDDING _is his
hostess_) Lady Lilian, I am----

GARSON. No, no, that isn't Lady Lilian.

MRS. REDDING (_archly_). Would that it were, Dr. Brodie!

REDDING (_equally ready_). Oh, come!

GARSON. Dr. Brodie--Mrs. Redding. You have met at the club, Redding.

REDDING. To be sure.

GARSON. I forgot you don't know my wife, Brodie. She will be down in a
moment. I must apologise for her being late.

MRS. REDDING. Don't fuss, Mr. Garson. Dr. Brodie knows what women are.

DR. BRODIE. Not I, Mrs. Redding. But I was afraid I should be late
myself.

REDDING. Something professional?

DR. BRODIE. Accident in the street. Man knocked over by a motor
bus--killed.

GARSON. Rough luck. I can't think what is keeping Lady Lilian.

REDDING. Someone you knew, doctor?

DR. BRODIE. No, but he seems to have done good work in India. Paton is
the name.

GARSON. Paton? There was a Paton we met once at dinner who--no, Egypt
was his place.

DR. BRODIE. It was Egypt she said. Probably your man.

MRS. REDDING. Was he married?

DR. BRODIE. No, not married. (_He sighs._) Poor devil!

REDDING. Surely better in the circumstances that he wasn't married.

DR. BRODIE. Oh, much better.

MRS. REDDING. You said "poor devil."

DR. BRODIE. Did I? I was thinking of something else.

MRS. REDDING. Of the lady?

DR. BRODIE (_not delighting in her_). Did I say there was a lady?

MRS. REDDING (_smartly_). You are saying it now.

REDDING. Got you, my friend!

DR. BRODIE. Hm! (_His desire is to drop the subject._) Beast of a night,
Garson.

GARSON. Wet?

DR. BRODIE. Drizzle. The most dismal sort of London night.

MRS. REDDING. And the poor devil is out in it?

DR. BRODIE. She is out in it, right enough.

     (LADY LILIAN _is not, however, out in it. She now sweeps in from
     upstairs in a delicious evening confection. She must have dressed
     in record time, for no doubt she lost a moment trying to open that
     drawer. She must even have raced her brain, which may be conceived
     by the fanciful as descending the stairs in pursuit of her._)

GARSON. You are terribly late, Lilian.

     (_She knows at once that nothing has been discovered as yet, and
     her wits make up on her._)

LILIAN. Dear Mrs. Redding, I am so ashamed. Forgive me, kind Mr.
Redding.

REDDING (_a courtier when approached infantilely_). All I can say, Lady
Lilian, is that you were worth waiting for.

     (_Then she sees the doctor, and the recognition is mutual._)

GARSON. Brodie, my wife at last. I forget, Lilian, whether I mentioned
that Dr. Brodie had kindly promised to take pot-luck with us.

LILIAN. No, but I am so pleased, Dr. Brodie--any friend of my husband.

DR. BRODIE. Thank you, Lady Lilian.

MRS. REDDING. He has been telling us such a shocking story.

REDDING. It will spoil my dinner.

GARSON. Not quite, I hope, Redding.

REDDING. No, not quite.

     (_They have both a gift for this sort of talk, and have sunny times
     together._)

MRS. REDDING. A man killed in the street. Tell her, Dr. Brodie.

DR. BRODIE. It wouldn't interest Lady Lilian.

GARSON. Yes, by the way it would. You will remember him, Lil.

LILIAN. Someone I know?

GARSON. Paton is the name. I think it was at the Rossiters' we met him.

LILIAN. A barrister?

GARSON. No, an engineer--abroad--in a small way.

LILIAN. A dark man, wasn't he?

DR. BRODIE. No, fair. Evidently if you ever knew him, Lady Lilian, you
have forgotten him.

LILIAN. One meets so many.

DR. BRODIE. Just so.

MRS. REDDING. There was a woman in it, Lady Lilian. Do get him to tell
us.

LILIAN (_boldly_). Why not?

DR. BRODIE. Very well. I assure you I pitied her when I thought she was
his wife, and still more when I found she wasn't.

GARSON. That sort of woman!

LILIAN. What sort of woman, Richard?

GARSON (_with delicacy_). Oh, come!

DR. BRODIE. She kept crying, what could she do.

GARSON. She knew what she could do!

LILIAN. What could she do, Richard?

GARSON. Pooh! They don't all get run over by motor buses, my dear.

DR. BRODIE. I thought she might find a job--women do nowadays--and live
on, true to the dead. After all, it was the test of her.

LILIAN. I suppose it was.

GARSON. What a sentimental fellow you are, Brodie! That kind can look
after themselves all right. I say, Redding, suppose she is a married
woman and has bolted back to unsuspecting No. 1!

REDDING. Lordy!

DR. BRODIE. When she left the house at my request I couldn't have
thought so despicably of her as that.

LILIAN. Is it more abject than my husband's other end for her?

DR. BRODIE. I should say, yes.

REDDING. It's quite possible, you know, Garson. Makes a pretty chump of
the husband, though.

GARSON. No doubt. And yet there is humour in it. You don't see, Brodie,
that it has its humorous side?

DR. BRODIE. Oh, yes, I do, Garson. But as I walked here I was picturing
her in dire desolation.

LILIAN. Don't you think she may be in dire desolation still?

DR. BRODIE. Thinking it over, Lady Lilian, I have come to the conclusion
that your husband is right, and that I was a sentimental fellow, wasting
my sympathy on that lady.

GARSON (_who is not unsusceptible to praise_). Exactly.

     (_Dinner is announced, and he is indicating to_ BRODIE _to take in_
     LADY LILIAN, _when_ MRS. REDDING, _the only one who has remembered
     the jewellery, touches her throat and wrists significantly. He
     gives her and her husband a private wink._)

Hullo, Lil, where are those emeralds? Didn't you get 'em out of me
specially for that frock?

     (_Only one of the company, a new acquaintance, notices his hostess
     go rigid for a moment. So her husband has found the jewels!
     Something inside her that is clamouring for utterance is about to
     betray her, when she sees a glance pass from her husband to the
     drawer. She is uncertain how much has been found out, but she
     cannot believe that if this man knows everything he could have had
     the self-control to play cat to her for so long._)

LILIAN (_taking a risk_). I took them off down here and left them for
safety in one of your drawers.

GARSON. Which drawer?

LILIAN (_crossing to it_). This one.

GARSON (_making a sign with his fingers behind his back to the
Reddings_). Best put them on; I like you in 'em.

     (_He tosses her his keys, and as she opens the drawer he has
     another gleeful moment with his accomplices._ BRODIE, _whose
     attention is confined to her, understands that somehow a crisis has
     been reached, and oddly enough he does not want her to be caught_.)

LILIAN (_turning round, aghast_). They are gone!

GARSON (_histrionically_). Gone?

LILIAN. Richard, what is to be done? My emeralds!

GARSON. Gone! The police----

LILIAN. Yes, yes!

MRS. REDDING. Mr. Garson, how can you keep it up? Don't you see she is
nearly fainting, and so should I be. Emeralds!

GARSON (_with the conqueror's good nature_). Come, come, Lil, calm
yourself. This should be a lesson to you, though. But it's all
right--just a trick I was playing on you. I found them in the drawer.

REDDING (_admiringly_). Never was such a masterpiece at a trick as
Garson!

GARSON (_producing the jewels from his pocket like a wizard_). Here they
are!

     (_He gallantly places them on her person, and even gives her a
     peck, which brings him very near to something she is holding in her
     hand beneath her handkerchief._ GARSON _takes in_ MRS. REDDING,
     _and_ REDDING _has to go without a lady. Before_ LILIAN _and_
     BRODIE _follow them she throws a letter into the fire, and as
     the little spitfire turns to ashes she puts on her finger a
     wedding-ring that she has taken out of it. She reels for a moment,
     then looks to_ BRODIE _for his commentary. He has none, but as a
     medical man he feels her pulse._)




[End of Half an Hour, by J. M. Barrie]
