Part 13 (2/2)

PHYLLIS. (_Stands by_ MADGE, _takes paper and reads_) That does seem cruel, doesn't it?

GRICE. Why do people want to keep the news to themselves? (_Takes paper away from_ PHYLLIS _and comes down_ C. _He reads_) Whew!

(_Stands ruminating_) Well, well, well, well! (_Holds paper to him_.)

TARVER. (_Seated in chair below fender. Plaintively_) Will somebody kindly tell _me_ what's happened?

GRICE. Always thinking of yourself, Tarver. (_Reads slowly and impressively_) ”On October the 11th--of wounds--at Berbera, Somaliland--Colonel Smith.”

TARVER. (_Feeling that he must say something_) On October the 11th--that is tough, isn't it?

FARADAY. Yes, it's hard. I've been inquiring about rooms at the Club.

I didn't expect this.

PHYLLIS. (_At head of table_) It's more terribly and cruelly hard on Celia than it would be upon _any other woman_.

GRICE. (_Putting paper on table_) Why?

PHYLLIS. Because---- (_Breaks off_.) Don't you remember the night when she told us of her engagement eight months ago. She said then that her betrothal would make an extraordinary difference in her life.

(_READY Doorbell_.)

EVELYN. Then she wasn't happy. Now she is.

MADGE. And when she is, this blow falls without even a telegram to break the force of it.

PHYLLIS. It is too horrible. Nothing but an announcement in the Times sent by post.

(NOTE: _The voices in each succeeding line should descend in scale_.)

MADGE. On October the 11th----

TARVER. Of wounds----

FARADAY. At Berbera----

EVELYN. Somaliland----

GRICE. Colonel Smith----

TARVER. (_Rising and coming_ L. _to stool below table_) By Jove! If Celia withdraws from the _contest_, I'm done.

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