The Honeymoon. Bennett Arnold

The Honeymoon - Bennett Arnold


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pockets of ratepayers of various important towns in less than a year. And when that's gone I can always get more at about the same rate, as you know.

      Flora. Cedric! There is to be no flying during our honeymoon?

      Cedric. Certainly not!

      Flora. And it is to last a full month, naturally.

      Cedric. A full calendar month – with no address for letters.

      Flora. (Sigh of ecstatic anticipation.) Two or three days, you said, here?

      Cedric. Yes, don't you think it's enough?

      Flora. Oh! quite. We shall be gone before anybody's had time to guess – (breaking off). Dearest, don't you think we came into the hotel rather well?

      Cedric. Fine. No one could suspect that we hadn't been born married. I was proud of both of us.

(Enter Gaston, R.)

      Gaston. Shall I clear the table? (Beginning to do so before receiving permission.)

      Flora. Yes. (Flora and Cedric rise.)

      Gaston. (With a cheerful air, quite unconscious of his impudent manner.) I suppose you stay here long time?

      Flora. (Determined to snub the waiter.) Really!

      Cedric. Why?

      Gaston. Oh! honeymoon. Dull place. Fresh married English people demand generally dull place.

      (Flora collapses and exit hurriedly into the garden, L. Cedric, with more leisurely dignity, lights a cigarette and is about to follow her when he stops and turns.)

      Cedric. By the way, I don't think we shall stay long.

      Gaston. (After looking at Flora in the garden, impartially and cheerfully.) It is strange how English people have shame of being married. One would say it was a crime in England. A young man and young lady in English hotel – they like better that one should think they not married. It is different in Switzerland. In Switzerland we are proud. We tell all the world. Why not?

      Cedric. So you come from Switzerland?

      Gaston. Oh, yes. I am not English (eagerly.) Geneva. My father is a fabricant, a —

      Cedric. Manufacturer.

      Gaston. Yes, manufacturer of door-mats. My father makes door-mats for all the hotels in Switzerland. Very big! Very important! He says – I must go into the hotel business. He will buy me a hotel. I learn everything. We do that in Switzerland. We are scientifique. I have been in the kitchens. Now I am waiter. No shame. Nobody could guess I am a gentleman.

      Cedric. You mustn't be too hard on yourself, my friend. And so you've come to England?

      Gaston. My father says, Go to England. Study the English caractère in England. Very valuable. When I come to London I could not speak English – no!

      Cedric. When was that? Last week?

      Gaston. No. It is a year, nearly. But I had at once a situation, the first day, at the Grand Babylon Hotel.

      Cedric. Rather awkward, wasn't it, not knowing English?

      Gaston. Yes. That fatigues one – to hear a strange language all the day.

      Cedric. I meant for the customers.

      Gaston. (Nonchalant gesture.) They are now well habituated. Many of them learn French or German, it saves time. English people are so practical. They are not logique, but they are practical. Now to-day I speak German, Italian, as perfectly as English.

      Cedric. Remarkable! But surely a man of your enormous ability is wasted in a sleepy place like this… Perhaps you find it amusing, though.

      Gaston. (Shakes his head. Passionately.) Dull! It is for my health that I am here. Sleepy! Ah, my God! (Disdainfully.) But all England sleeps… But next month I go to Germany. I shall have done England.

      Cedric. You like Germany.

      Gaston. Ah! What a country! What organisation! What science! Never sleeps! Always conquers! (Patronisingly.) Do you think in your business the Germans will not conquer, at the end?

      Cedric. My business?

      Gaston. Yes. Aeroplanes.

      Cedric. So you know that?

      Gaston. I know everything… Look at anileen!

      Cedric. Anileen?

      Gaston. Yes. Anileen – colours.

      Cedric. Ah! You mean aniline dyes.

      Gaston. Yes, I said so.

      Cedric. What about them?

      Gaston. What about them? England invented them. Germany has taken them from you – all. That is science. All German now. So with aeroplanes. England and France – proud, very proud. But at the end, you will see … at the end.

      Cedric. Oh!

      Gaston. And soon.

      Cedric. I say, if it isn't a rude question, how did you guess that we were – er – on our honeymoon? It might be useful for me to know.

      Gaston. Ah, now – again! I read, I study. I alone in this sleepy place. By example, no afternoon newspapers – none – came into this place till I ordered one at the railway. I insisted. "The Piccadilly Gazette" – you know – Thackeray – "written by gentlemen for gentlemen." I read it every day. Ah! And is it not afraid of Germany!

      Cedric. Do you mean there's something about my marriage in the "Piccadilly Gazette"?

      Gaston. Yes. Do you want to read it?

      Cedric. Well, I should rather like to see it, if I'm not interfering with your studies.

      Gaston. (Taking paper out of his pocket.) There! (Stands waiting in a suggestive attitude.)

      Cedric. (Accepting paper.) Thanks! (Looks at him and gives him a tip.)

      Gaston. (Pocketing the coin.) Thanks!.. And you will see about Klopstock too. (Picking up tray.)

      Cedric. What about Klopstock?

      Gaston. He comes to England soon as he has flyed at Breslau. Ah! You will see! (Exit R. with tray.)

      (Cedric sits down with paper, and begins to read.)

      Cedric. (Quietly.) Oh!

      (He drops the end of his cigarette into a flower-pot; then takes a cigar from his case, cuts it, puts it in his mouth, and produces a matchbox, but does not light it.)

      Cedric. Oh, indeed!

      (He goes to the window, and taps on one of the closed panes. After a moment Flora appears at the open part of the window. Cedric, with a motion of the hand, indicates that he wishes her to enter.)

      Flora. (Off, in a conspiratorial whisper.) Has the reader of hearts quite gone? (Cedric nods.) Come out. (Cedric beckons her inwards with his finger.)

(Enter Flora, L.)

      Flora. Oh, Cedric! What a blow! We're the honeymoon couple now of Pixton-on-Sea. How did he guess?

      Cedric. (Scarcely listening to her.) Fluff, read this (hands her paper with his finger on a particular paragraph). Top of second column.

      Flora. (Reads.) "We are informed that Mr. Cedric Haslam, the celebrated aviator (Cedric shows surprise) was married privately this morning at Chelmsford to Mrs. Flora Lloyd, widow of the late Mr. Artemus Lloyd, stockbroker, who at one time was a well-known figure in the Kaffir Circus. Mr. and Mrs. Reach Haslam, the bridegroom's parents, and his brother, Mr. Charles Haslam, were present. The happy pair are spending the first part of the honeymoon at Pixton-on-Sea. By a curious coincidence, Mrs. Reach Haslam's new novel, 'The Wiving of the Chancellor,' appears on the very day of the marriage of her eldest son." (Shaking her head.) Only one thing is possible. Flight. Immediate flight! And plenty of it! Cedric, I suppose this is your dear mother's doing?

      Cedric.


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