| (0, 1) 1 | SCENE.─A room in BRANSCOMBE'S flat, London. |
| (0, 1) 2 | BRANSCOMBE, a star actor, is seen lounging in an easy chair, smoking a cigar, and reading a newspaper. |
| (0, 1) 3 | He is rather a big, handsome man, full of himself, about 40. |
| (0, 1) 4 | Enter to him ROWLAND MORLEY, about 35, a cultured Oxford Graduate─a dramatic author. |
| (Branscombe) {Rousing himself.} | |
| (Morley) Well, it will be worth the bray of an ass, and that's about all. | |
| (0, 1) 92 | BRANSCOMBE fakes a pencil and "cuts" page after page ruthlessly. |
| (Morley) I say, leave the covers. | |
| (Branscombe) Here, sit down and take notes in shorthand. | |
| (0, 1) 112 | MORLEY seats himself at the table, opens a notebook, and prepares to take notes. |
| (Branscombe) We'll give her a line or two to keep her quiet. | |
| (Branscombe) Give me a whiskey and soda and help yourself. | |
| (0, 1) 181 | Flops into an easy chair─MORLEY laughingly fans him, and hands him a whiskey and soda. |
| (Branscombe) We've done a jolly good morning's work. | |
| (Branscombe) Come in! | |
| (0, 1) 192 | Enter GERALDINE O'CONNOR, a refined, pretty, girl with delicate colouring, sad-looking, and quietly dressed. |
| (Geraldine) {Letters in her hand.} | |
| (Geraldine) Rowland! | |
| (0, 1) 197 | She shrinks back to the door, drops letters on chair. |
| (Morley) {Rising quickly, his eyes fixed on GERALDINE.} | |
| (Morley) You! | |
| (0, 1) 201 | There is a tense silence, they are both agitated. |
| (0, 1) 202 | Branscombe looks on with astonishment. |
| (Branscombe) You appear to know my Secretary, Morley? | |
| (Morley) Yes. | |
| (0, 1) 205 | A painful silence. |
| (Morley) Geraldine! | |
| (Geraldine) Don't go, please don't go! | |
| (0, 1) 240 | BRANSCOMBE turns back. |
| (Geraldine) {To MORLEY despairingly.} | |
| (Geraldine) {Rests her head on her hand, loses herself in thought.} | |
| (0, 1) 291 | BRANSCOMBE walks up and down the room, deeply moved. |
| (0, 1) 292 | MORLEY goes to GERALDINE, and tries to comfort her, but she draws away from him. |
| (Branscombe) Come, Miss─Mrs. Morley, we are both your friends, and we're going to see you through. | |
| (Branscombe) {Offers his hand.} | |
| (0, 1) 299 | GERALDINE looks up at BRANSCOMBE wonderingly. |
| (0, 1) 300 | She slowly holds out her hand, he grasps it, she bursts into tears. |
| (0, 1) 301 | The two men are deeply affected, unable for a few moments to trust themselves to speak. |
| (Morley) {Gripping BRANSCOMBE's hand.} | |
| (Branscombe) What a fool I am! | |
| (0, 1) 371 | Blows his nose to hide his emotion and tries to whistle a tune. |
| (Branscombe) {To himself.} | |
| (Branscombe) Somebody ought to be shot. | |
| (0, 1) 375 | MORLEY and GERALDINE silently move to back of stage, furtively watch BRANSCOMBE, and exchange mischievous smiles. |
| (0, 1) 376 | A laugh escapes them. |
| (Branscombe) {Swings round─stammers.} | |
| (Branscombe) You've soon got over it! | |
| (0, 1) 381 | MORLEY and GERALDINE laugh again. |
| (Branscombe) What the deuce is there to laugh about? | |
| (Morley) {Takes her in his arms.} | |
| (0, 1) 412 | CURTAIN |