Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 32

FRANcOISE. Just a trifle, aren't you?

MARCEL. No jealousy, dear! The day of adventures is dead and buried.

Thirty-five mortal years, a scarcity of hair, a noticeable rotundity--and married! Opportunities are fewer now!

FRANcOISE [_playfully_]. Don't lose courage, your luck may return. A minute would suffice.

MARCEL [_mournfully_]. I don't dare hope.

FRANcOISE. Married! It was never your destiny to be a proprietor, you are doomed to be a tenant.

MARCEL [_as he is about to leave, sees a letter on the table_]. Oh, a letter, and you said nothing to me about it!

FRANcOISE. I didn't see it. Jean must have brought it while you were asleep.

MARCEL. From Pa.s.sy! I know that hand! [_Aside, with surprise._] Madame Guerin--Madeleine! Well! [_Reading._] "My dear friend I lunch to-day with my aunt Madame de Monglat, at La Muette--as I used to. Come and see me before noon, I have serious things to discuss with you." [_He stops reading; aside, much pleased._] A rendezvous! And after three years!

Poor Guerin! No! It wouldn't be decent now! No!

FRANcOISE [_aside_]. He seems to be waking up!

MARCEL [_aside_]. They must have returned! Francoise was right--a minute would suffice! The dear girl!

FRANcOISE. No bad news?

MARCEL [_in spite of himself_]. On the contrary!

FRANcOISE. Oh!

MARCEL [_embarra.s.sed_]. It's from that American woman who saw my picture the other day--at Goupil's, you remember? She insists that I give it to her for ten thousand francs. I really think I'll let her have it.

Nowadays you never can tell--

FRANcOISE. I think you would be very wise to sell.

MARCEL [_handing her the letter_]. Don't you believe me?

FRANcOISE. Absolutely.

[_Marcel puts the letter in his pocket. A pause._]

MARCEL [_hesitating before he leaves; aside_]. She's a darling; a perfect little darling.

FRANcOISE. Then you're not going out?

MARCEL [_surprised_]. Do you want to send me away?

FRANcOISE. If you're going out to lunch, you had better hurry--the train leaves in a few minutes.

MARCEL [_suddenly affectionate_]. How can I hurry when you are so charming? You're adorable this morning!

FRANcOISE. D'you think so?

[_A pause._]

MARCEL [_aside_]. Curious, but every time I have a rendezvous, she is like that!

FRANcOISE. Good-by, then; I've had enough of you! If you stay you'll upset all my plans. I'd quite made up my mind to be melancholy and lonely. It's impossible to be either gay or sad with you! Run along!

MARCEL [_taking off his hat, which he had put on some moments before_].

I tell you this is my house, and this my studio. Your house is there by the garden.

FRANcOISE. Yes, it's only there that you are my husband.

MARCEL. Oh! [_Reproachfully, and with tenderness._] Tell me, Francoise, why don't you ever want to go out with me?

FRANcOISE. You know I don't like society.

MARCEL. I'm seen so much alone!

FRANcOISE. So much the better for you; you will be taken for a bachelor!

MARCEL. One might think the way you talk, that husband and wife ought never to live together.

FRANcOISE. Perhaps I'd see you oftener if we weren't married!

MARCEL. Isn't it a pleasure to you, Madame, to be in the arms of your husband?

FRANcOISE. Isn't it likewise a pleasure to be able to say, "He is free, I am not his wife, he is not my husband; I am not his duty, a millstone around his neck; I am his avocation, his love? If he leaves me, I know he is tired of me, but if he comes back, then I know he loves me"?

MARCEL. Francoise, you are an extremist!

FRANcOISE. You think so?

MARCEL. You are.

FRANcOISE. Well?

MARCEL. I know your philosophy is nothing but love. [_A pause._] You cry sometimes, don't you? When I'm not here?

FRANcOISE. Just a little.

MARCEL. I make you very unhappy! When you are sad, don't conceal it from me, Francoise; one of your tears would make me do anything in the world for you.

FRANcOISE. One, yes! But, many?

MARCEL. Don't make fun of me: I am serious. If I told you that my affection for you is as great as yours, I--

FRANcOISE. You would be lying.

MARCEL. Perhaps! But I think I adore you! Every time I leave you, I feel so lonely; I wander about like a lost soul! I think something must be happening to you. And when I come home at midnight, and open the door, I feel an exquisite sensation--Is that love? You ought to know--you are an adept!