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stitch of a new hemall with the swiftness of one well…
accustomed。 Then； as if hearing a sound behind him； he gets up
quickly and slips behind the screen。 MRS。 MEGAN； attracted by
the cessation of voices； has opened the door； and is creeping
from the model's room towards the fire。 She has almost reached
it before she takes in the torpid crimson figure of old TIMSON。
She halts and puts her hand to her chesta queer figure in the
firelight； garbed in the canary…coloured bath gown and rabbit's…
wool slippers； her black matted hair straggling down on her
neck。 Having quite digested the fact that the old man is in a
sort of stupor； MRS。 MEGAN goes close to the fire； and sits on
the little stool； smiling sideways at old TIMSON。 FERRAND；
coming quietly up behind； examines her from above； drooping his
long nose as if enquiring with it as to her condition in life；
then he steps back a yard or two。
FERRAND。 ＇Gently。＇ 'Pardon； Ma'moiselle'。
MRS。 MEGAN。 ＇Springing to her feet。＇ Oh！
FERRAND。 All right； all right！ We are brave gents！
TIMSON。 ＇Faintly roused。＇ 'Old up； there！
FERRAND。 Trust in me； Ma'moiselle！
＇MRS。 MEGAN responds by drawing away。＇
FERRAND。 ＇Gently。＇ We must be good comrades。 This asylumit is
better than a doss…'ouse。
＇He pushes the stool over towards her； and seats himself。
Somewhat reassured； MRS。 MEGAN again sits down。＇
MRS。 MEGAN。 You frightened me。
TIMSON。 ＇Unexpectedly…in a drowsy tone。＇ Purple foreigners！
FERRAND。 Pay no attention； Ma'moiselle。 He is a philosopher。
MRS。 MEGAN。 Oh！ I thought 'e was boozed。
＇They both look at TIMSON＇
FERRAND。 It is the same…veree 'armless。
MRS。 MEGAN。 What's that he's got on 'im？
FERRAND。 It is a coronation robe。 Have no fear； Ma'moiselle。 Veree
docile potentate。
MRS。 MEGAN。 I wouldn't be afraid of him。 ＇Challenging FERRAND。＇ I'm
afraid o' you。
FERRAND。 It is because you do not know me； Ma'moiselle。 You are
wrong； it is always the unknown you should love。
MRS。 MEGAN。 I don't like the way you…speaks to me。
FERRAND。 Ah！ You are a Princess in disguise？
MRS。 MEGAN。 No fear！
FERRAND。 No？ What is it then you do to make face against the
necessities of life？ A living？
MRS。 MEGAN。 Sells flowers。
FERRAND。 ＇Rolling his eyes。＇ It is not a career。
MRS。 MEGAN。 ＇With a touch of devilry。＇ You don't know what I do。
FERRAND。 Ma'moiselle； whatever you do is charming。
＇MRS。 MEGAN looks at him； and slowly smiles。＇
MRS。 MEGAN。 You're a foreigner。
FERRAND。 It is true。
MRS。 MEGAN。 What do you do for a livin'？
FERRAND。 I am an interpreter。
MRS。 MEGAN。 You ain't very busy； are you？
FERRAND。 ＇With dignity。＇ At present I am resting。
MRS。 MEGAN。 ＇Looking at him and smiling。＇ How did you and 'im come
here？
FERRAND。 Ma'moiselle； we would ask you the same question。
MRS。 MEGAN。 The gentleman let me。 'E's funny。
FERRAND。 'C'est un ange' ＇At MRS。 MEGAN's blank stare he
interprets。＇ An angel！
MRS。 MEGAN。 Me luck's out…that's why I come。
FERRAND。 ＇Rising。＇ Ah！ Ma'moiselle！ Luck！ There is the little
God who dominates us all。 Look at this old！ ＇He points to TIMSON。＇
He is finished。 In his day that old would be doing good business。
He could afford himself＇He maker a sign of drinking。＇Then come
the motor cars。 All goeshe has nothing left； only 'is 'abits of a
'cocher'！ Luck！
TIMSON。 ＇With a vague gesturedrowsily。＇ Kick the foreign beggars
out。
FERRAND。 A real Englishman 。 。 。 。 And look at me！ My father
was merchant of ostrich feathers in Brussels。 If I had been content
to go in his business； I would 'ave been rich。 But I was born to
roll〃rolling stone〃to voyage is stronger than myself。 Luck！ 。 。
And you； Ma'moiselle； shall I tell your fortune？ ＇He looks in her
face。＇ You were born for 'la joie de vivre'to drink the wines of
life。 'Et vous voila'！ Luck！
＇Though she does not in the least understand what he has said；
her expression changes to a sort of glee。＇
FERRAND。 Yes。 You were born loving pleasure。 Is it not？ You see；
you cannot say； No。 All of us； we have our fates。 Give me your
hand。 ＇He kneels down and takes her hand。＇ In each of us there is
that against which we cannot struggle。 Yes； yes！
＇He holds her hand； and turns it over between his own。 MRS。
MEGAN remains stolid； half fascinated； half…reluctant。
TIMSON。 ＇Flickering into consciousness。＇ Be'ave yourselves！ Yer
crimson canary birds！
＇MRS。 MEGAN would withdraw her hand； but cannot。＇
FERRAND。 Pay no attention； Ma'moiselle。 He is a Puritan。
＇TIMS0N relapses into comatosity； upsetting his glass； which
falls with a crash。＇
MRS。 MEGAN。 Let go my hand； please！
FERRAND。 ＇Relinquishing it； and staring into the fore gravely。＇
There is one thing I have never done'urt a womanthat is hardly in
my character。 ＇Then； drawing a little closer； he looks into her
face。＇ Tell me； Ma'moiselle； what is it you think of all day long？
MRS。 MEGAN。 I dunnolots； I thinks of。
FERRAND。 Shall I tell you？ ＇Her eyes remain fixed on his； the
strangeness of him preventing her from telling him to 〃get along。〃＇
He goes on in his ironic voice。＇ It is of the streetsthe lights
the facesit is of all which moves； and is warmit is of colourit
is ＇he brings his face quite close to hers＇ of Love。 That is for you
what the road is for me。 That is for you what the rum is for that
old＇He jerks his thumb back at TIMSON。 Then bending swiftly
forward to the girl。＇ See！ I kiss youAh！
＇He draws her forward off the stool。 There is a little
struggle； then she resigns her lips。 The little stool；
overturned； falls with a clatter。 They spring up； and move
apart。 The door opens and ANN enters from the house in a blue
dressing…gown； with her hair loose； and a candle held high above
her head。 Taking in the strange half…circle round the stove；
she recoils。 Then； standing her ground； calls in a voice
sharpened by fright： 〃DaddyDaddy！〃＇
TIMSON。 ＇Stirring uneasily； and struggling to his feet。） All right！
I'm comin'！
FERRAND。 Have no fear； Madame！
＇In the silence that follows； a clock begins loudly striking
twelve。 ANN remains； as if carved in atone； her eyes fastened
on the strangers。 There is the sound of someone falling
downstairs； and WELLWYN appears； also holding a candle above his
head。
ANN。 Look！
WELLWYN。 Yes； yes； my dear！ Itit happened。
ANN。 ＇With a sort of groan。＇ Oh！ Daddy！
＇In the renewed silence； the church clock ceases to chime。＇
FERRAND。 ＇Softly； in his ironic voice。＇ HE is come； Monsieur！ 'Appy
Christmas！ Bon Noel！
＇There is a sudden chime of bells。 The Stage is blotted dark。＇
Curtain。
ACT II
It is four o'clock in the afternoon of New Year's Day。 On the raised
dais MRS。 MEGAN is standing； in her rags； with bare feet and ankles；
her dark hair as if blown about； her lips parted； holding out a