Ten minutes later. WESSON is smoking. Enter BARBARA, dressed, with her hat on.
BARBARA: Here I am, then!
WESSON: Are you going straight to Gardone, to the Monte Baldo?
BARBARA: No — I’m going to the Hotel Cervo.
WESSON: But you can’t — she knows us, the landlady — and thinks we’re man and wife. You can’t make that mess. If you’re going, go straight to Frederick to-night — I’ll see you there.
BARBARA: I’m not going to Frederick to-night — I’m not going to Gardone — I’m going to the Hotel Cervo.
WESSON: How much money have you got?
BARBARA: None.
WESSON: Then I won’t give you any.
BARBARA: Don’t you trouble — I wouldn’t take any of your money.
WESSON: Have you got your night-things in the handbag?
BARBARA: Yes.
WESSON: Some soap — some hankies?
BARBARA: No — forgotten ‘em.
WESSON: You would.
Exit — comes running back in a moment, puts the things in her bag.
BARBARA: Thank you.
WESSON: And your box I’ll pack to-morrow. The things you said were mine I shall put in.
BARBARA: You needn’t.
WESSON: I shall. I’ve never given you anything, so you’ve nothing to return.
BARBARA: No — you were always stingy.
WESSON: Very well — Frederick isn’t.
BARBARA: I suppose it’s having been brought up so poor, you can’t help it.
WESSON: We won’t discuss me now, nor my bringing-up.
BARBARA: Oh, alright!
WESSON: I consider I owe you, of money you had, about eleven pounds. I’ll be stingy and keep one of them. Here’s ten out of the forty we’d got.
BARBARA: I shan’t have them.
WESSON: You can’t go without any money.
BARBARA: Yes, I can.
WESSON: No, you can’t. If you don’t have these ten pounds, I’ll post them to Frederick to you.
BARBARA: Alright.
WESSON (feeling in his pocket): Well, have ten lire, at any rate.
BARBARA: No, I won’t have anything.
WESSON: You ought to be murdered for your obstinacy.
BARBARA: Not twice in one night.
WESSON: Very well, then — I will come with you down the village, since you’re frightened of the men.
BARBARA: You needn’t — I’m not frightened.
WESSON: No — you’re too damned high and mighty to possess a single one of the human virtues or vices, you are! (A silence.) Do you want to go, really?
BARBARA: Yes.
WESSON: Liar! — Liar! — you are showing off! (Snatches the handbag and flings it into the kitchen.) Fool’s idiotic theatrical game. Take that hat off.
BARBARA: You’re giving your orders.
WESSON: Alright. (Seizes the hat, flings it through the door.)
BARBARA (flashing): What are you doing?
WESSON: Stopping you being a fool. Take your coat off.
BARBARA: I shall take my coat off when I please. Indeed, you needn’t show off, for the minute I want to walk out of this house I shall walk out, and you nor anybody else will prevent me.
WESSON (taking up his position with his back to the door): Alright — you want to walk out now, and see!
BARBARA: If I want to —
WESSON: Want to, then —
BARBARA (with a laugh of scorn): Ha — you stop me! (Marches up to him with her breast high. He stands immovable.) Come out! (He shakes his head.) Come out!
WESSON: I told you I wouldn’t.
BARBARA: Won’t you?
Seizes him. He grapples with her. They struggle. He forces her backward, flings her with a smash on to the couch.
WESSON: You shan’t! (Goes and locks the door — stands at a loss.)
BARBARA (recovering): It’s very heroic — but I go to-morrow, whether or not.
WESSON: You’ll pass the night in this room then. (He sits down — there is silence for some minutes — at last he looks up, speaks falteringly.) You don’t want to leave me, do you, Barbara? (No answer.) You don’t want to? (Silence.) Well, whether you think you do or not, I shall never believe you want to leave me, not really — so there! (A silence.)
BARBARA: A woman couldn’t want to leave such a wonder as you, you think.
WESSON: You can’t want to leave me.
BARBARA: Why not?
WESSON (sulkily): Because I don’t believe you can. (There is a silence.)
BARBARA (with difficulty): A sort of faith performance!
He looks at her steadily, rises, goes and sits beside her.
WESSON: Barbican!
BARBARA (dropping her head on his shoulder with a cry): It’s so hard on him, Giacomo.
WESSON (putting his arms round her): Never mind, he’ll suffer at first, then he’ll get better.
BARBARA (crying): He won’t.
WESSON: He will — he shall — he shall! And you’ll see he will. He’ll be alright in the end. You were too big a mouthful for him to swallow, and he was choking.
BARBARA: But I make him suffer so.
WESSON (kissing and kissing her): No — it’s my fault. You don’t want to leave me, do you?
BARBARA: I don’t know what to do.
WESSON: Stay with me, Barbican, my darling, and we’ll manage that he’s alright.
BARBARA: It’s not fair when a man goes loving you so much when you don’t love him — it makes you feel as if you’d have to go back to him.
WESSON: You can’t go back to him — it would be wrong. His love isn’t living for you.
BARBARA: It isn’t, is it, Giacomo?
WESSON: No — kiss me, Barbara, will you? (She kisses him.) I love you, Barbara.
BARBARA: Do you really love me?
WESSON: Malheureusement.
BARBARA: He says that.
WESSON: And I don’t mean it. I’m glad I love you, even if you torture me into hell.
BARBARA: But do you love me an awful lot?
WESSON: More than enough.
BARBARA: Really?
WESSON: Truly.
BARBARA: But if he dies, I shall torment the life out of you.
WESSON: You’ll do that anyway.
BARBARA (looking up — taking his face between her hands): Shall I? — No! — Say no — say I am a joy to you.
WESSON: You are a living joy to me, you are — especially this evening.
BARBARA (laughs): No — but am I really?
WESSON: Yes.
BARBARA: Kiss me — kiss me — and love me — love me a fearful lot — love me a fearful lot.
WESSON: I do. And to-morrow you’ll just say to Frederick, “I can’t come back — divorce me if you love me.” You’ll say it, won’t you? (kissing her.)
BARBARA: Yes.
WESSON: If it kills him — it won’t kill him — but you’ll say it?
BARBARA (hiding her face): Must I, Giacomo?
WESSON: Yes.
BARBARA: Then I s’ll have to — oh dear! But you’ll love me — love me a lot. (She clings to him wildly.)
WESSON: I do — and I will.
BARBARA: Love me a fearful lot!
CURTAIN