Penelope. W. Somerset Maugham
the best thing she could do. I can tell her everything. I’ve lived in that set all my life. It’s nothing to be particularly proud about—mere accident of birth—I happen to be a gentleman. A certain family. Well, there it is, you see.
Golightly.
But do you mean to say that Penelope wired all that to you? It must have cost her a perfect fortune.
Barlow.
She put it a little more briefly, of course, but that was the gist of it.
Beadsworth.
I can’t imagine why she should send for me because a royalty is coming to luncheon with her. It was very inconvenient to get away. I had a dozen people waiting to see me, and I was obliged to slip out by the back door in order to avoid them.
Golightly.
But what are the exact words of the wire she sent you, Davenport?
Barlow.
You can see it if you like. [Taking it from his pocket and reading.] “Come at once. Archduchess Anastasia. Penelope.”
Golightly.
But d’you mean to say that you made up all that story out of those three words?
Barlow.
Penelope knew I had a certain amount of intelligence. She didn’t want to waste her money, so she just put what was essential, and left me to gather the rest.
Mrs. Golightly.
But my telegram says nothing about the Archduchess Anastasia.
Barlow.
What did Penelope say to you?
Mrs. Golightly.
[Taking out the telegram.] “Come at once! Grave scandal! Central African Mission. Penelope.”
Barlow.
But that’s absurd. You know how stupid the Post Office is. They must have made a mistake. I know that the Pomeranian Royal Family is very odd, but there are limits, and I can’t imagine the Archduchess Anastasia being mixed up in a scandal with a Central African missionary.
Beadsworth.
Well, my wire merely said: “Come at once; six and eightpence. Penelope.”
Barlow.
Six and eightpence! Why six and eightpence?
Beadsworth.
I don’t know. That is why I lost no time in coming.
Golightly.
[With a twinkle.] My impression is that the Archduchess Anastasia, instead of paying Dickie’s bill for miraculously curing her, has eloped with a missionary, and Penelope, by aid of the law [with a gesture towards Beadsworth], wants to recover the money.
Barlow.
It’s nonsense! You’re so unpractical, Charles.
Mrs. Golightly.
[To her husband.] But you had a telegram too, dear.
Golightly.
“Come at once. Decimal 7035. Penelope.”
Barlow.
How very odd.
[The door is softly opened and Penelope slips in; for a moment the others do not see her, and she stands smiling at them. Golightly catches sight of her. All the others turn.]
Golightly.
Penelope.
The Others.
Penelope.
Penelope.
[Coming forward and kissing Mrs. Golightly.] Good evening, mamma!
Barlow.
[Eagerly.] Well?
Penelope.
Well, papa. [She puts her face up for him to kiss.]
Mrs. Golightly.
[Anxiously.] Now, Penelope.
Penelope.
Oh, Mr. Beadsworth, how nice of you to come. [She shakes hands with him.] Kiss me, Uncle Davenport. [She calmly puts up her face. With some irritation he kisses her.]
Penelope.
Thank you. … Was your whisky and soda quite right? [Looking round.] And the port? Father, you haven’t touched the barley-water. You ungrateful old thing!
Mrs. Golightly.
[Exasperated.] My dear, for goodness’ sake explain.
Barlow.
Where have you been all this time?
Penelope.
I—I’ve been sitting in the consulting-room. [With a roguish smile.] I watched you all come in.
Mrs. Golightly.
[Rather injured.] Peyton said you were out.
Barlow.
Really, Penelope, I think your behaviour is outrageous.
Penelope.
You see, I thought if I saw you one after the other as you came in, I should have to make four scenes instead of one. It would have been very exhausting and not nearly so effective.
Golightly.
Are you going to make a scene?
Penelope.
[With the greatest satisfaction.] I’m going to make a dreadful scene in a minute.
Mrs. Golightly.
Now, my dear, before you go any further, for goodness’ sake tell us what you meant by your telegrams.
Penelope.
Well, you see, I wanted you all to come immediately, and I thought the best thing was to trail your ruling passions under your noses.
Mrs. Golightly.
Do you understand what she means, Charles?
Penelope.
My dear mother, it’s the simplest thing in the world. You spend your life in converting the heathen—from a distance—and I knew if I mentioned the Central African Mission you’d fly here on the wings of the wind.
Mrs. Golightly.
In point of fact I came in an omnibus. But do you mean to tell me that there has been no scandal in connection with the Central African Mission?
Penelope.
[Smiling.] I’m dreadfully sorry to disappoint you, mother.
Golightly.
And what in heaven’s name made you wire decimal 7035 to me?
Penelope.
Oh, that’s our telephone number, and I just put decimal instead of Gerrard.
Golightly.
I thought the figures were strangely familiar.
Penelope.
And there you are, you see.
Barlow.
[Chuckling.] I think it’s a capital idea. And she just flung the words six and eightpence at you, Beadsworth, and knew she’d fetch the lawyer.
Penelope.
[To Beadsworth.] You’re not cross with me, are you?
[He