Glancing at him, she resumes her placing of
the decanters, as JOHNNY enters by the window, and comes down to his
father by the hearth.
JOHNNY. [Privately] If you haven't begun your morning, Dad, you might
just tell me what you think of these verses.
He puts a sheet of notepaper before his father, who takes it and
begins to con over the verses thereon, while JOHNNY looks carefully
at his nails.
MR MARCH. Er--I--I like the last line awfully, Johnny.
JOHNNY. [Gloomily] What about the other eleven?
MR MARCH. [Tentatively] Well--old man, I--er--think perhaps it'd be
stronger if they were out.
JOHNNY. Good God!
He takes back the sheet of paper, clutches his brow, and crosses to
the door. As he passes FAITH, she looks up at him with eyes full of
expression. JOHNNY catches the look, jibs ever so little, and goes
out.
COOK'S VOICE. [Through the door, which is still ajar] Faith!
FAITH puts the decanters on the table, and goes quickly out.
MR MARCH. [Who has seen this little by-play--to himself--in a voice of
dismay] Oh! oh! I wonder!
CURTAIN.
ACT II
A fortnight later in the MARCH'S dining-room; a day of violent
April showers. Lunch is over and the table littered with, remains--
twelve baskets full.
MR MARCH and MARY have lingered. MR MARCH is standing by the hearth
where a fire is burning, filling a fountain pen.
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