Part 9 (2/2)

ANABEL. You mean you want to be told?

GERALD. Yes, I want to be told.

ANABEL. That's rather mean of you. You should savvy, and let it go without saying.

GERALD. Yes, but I don't savvy.

ANABEL. Then wait till you do.

GERALD. No, I want to be told. There's a difference in you, Anabel, that puts me out, rather. You're sort of softer and sweeter--I'm not sure whether it isn't a touch of father in you. There's a little sanctified smudge on your face. Are you really a bit sanctified?

ANABEL. No, not sanctified. It's true I feel different. I feel I want a new way of life--something more dignified, more religious, if you like--anyhow, something POSITIVE.

GERALD. Is it the change of heart, Anabel?

ANABEL. Perhaps it is, Gerald.

GERALD. I'm not sure that I like it. Isn't it like a berry that decides to get very sweet, and goes soft?

ANABEL. I don't think so.

GERALD. Slightly sanctimonious. I think I liked you better before. I don't think I like you with this touch of aureole. People seem to me so horribly self-satisfied when they get a change of heart--they take such a fearful lot of credit to themselves on the strength of it.

ANABEL. I don't think I do.--Do you feel no different, Gerald?

GERALD. Radically, I can't say I do. I feel very much more INdifferent.

ANABEL. What to?

GERALD. Everything.

ANABEL. You're still angry--that's what it is.

GERALD. Oh, yes, I'm angry. But that is part of my normal state.

ANABEL. Why are you angry?

GERALD. Is there any reason why I shouldn't be angry? I'm angry because you treated me--well, so impudently, really--clearing out and leaving one to whistle to the empty walls.

ANABEL. Don't you think it was time I cleared out, when you became so violent, and really dangerous, really like a madman?

GERALD. Time or not time, you went--you disappeared and left us high and dry--and I am still angry.--But I'm not only angry about that. I'm angry with the colliers, with Labour for its low-down impudence--and I'm angry with father for being so ill--and I'm angry with mother for looking such a hopeless thing--and I'm angry with Oliver because he thinks so much---

ANABEL. And what are you angry with yourself for?

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