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Copyright 1998
[VITA sits by the window, occasionally struggling with Scott's Waverly, usually looking out of the window. A knock at the door.]
VITA: Come in.
IVY: [Opening door] Do you still want to show me a lesson?
VITA: Oh yes, Ivy, if you'd like me to give you one.
IVY: I've got nothing better to do.
VITA: That's very gracious of you.
IVY: S' all right.
VITA: Do you remember when we last met?
IVY: No.
VITA: It must have been a week ago. Do you remember what exercises we went through?
IVY: No.
VITA: Oh well. I suppose we'd better go through them again.
IVY: Alright.
VITA: Are you sure you want to do this?
IVY: Might as well.
VITA: Well, let's both sit at the keys.
[They do so with some Les Dawson-style awkwardness from IVY]
Good. Now, observe my fingers.
[She plays a simple bar]
Would you like to try that?
IVY: Do it again.
[VITA does so]
VITA: Now, your turn!
IVY: No, you do it again.
VITA: Very well. [She does so] Now - your turn.
[IVY shakes her head]
We've done it hundreds of times before! [Pause]
IVY: One more time.
VITA: As you wish. [She plays again] Surely now.
[IVY, staring silently at the keys, plays the tune very slowly, one key at a time. After three or four, she gets a note wrong.]
IVY: That's wrong. You'll have to show me again.
[VITA does so]
You go too fast!
[VITA plays again at an unmelodiously slow pace. IVY repeats the process, messing up about three quarters of the way through.]
VITA: Nearly.
[She does it again, completing the process. A 'Shine' like state of tension pervades this performance. Silence]
Try it again.
[IVY sighs. A pause. She repeats the procedure - no better.]
IVY: Is that all?
VITA: That's a good start. Now we're going to add some harmony and melody to the process.
[She plays the piece at a proper pace once more.]
IVY: Let me see. [She plays it slowly.]
VITA: Um - [Starts singing scales as accompaniment.] Yes, that's right. Listen.
[Plays and sings simultaneously. Turns to IVY and sings them unaccompanied.]
[Silence]
IVY: What's that?
VITA: That's the melody. Sing along. [Sings scales.]
IVY: I'm not doing that.
VITA: Let's have a little break. [Stands up and walks around]
IVY: You got any fags?
VITA: No, I'm afraid not.
IVY: Pity.[Silence]
VITA: Ivy, do you want to play the piano?
IVY: S'pose so.
VITA: Why?
IVY: Something to do.
VITA: That's true. [Silence. Vita returns to the piano.]
IVY: What are you going to do now?
VITA: Oh, when I was your age and had piano lessons, then we used to run through scales and exercises and then have a break and try a passage of music.
IVY: Well, we've had the break, let's try and play a proper piece of music.
VITA: Well, you really need to learn to read music too - have you had a look at that book I leant you, yet?
IVY: No.
VITA: It's really impossible to play anything if you can't read music.
IVY: No, it's not.
VITA: You mean, "No, it isn't", dear. And you can't be right.
IVY: No it's not. There's a man who plays the piano at The Royal Ascot every Saturday night and he doesn't read music.
VITA: That's not the same thing.
IVY: He sounds alright to me. He plays better than you do.
VITA: Oh, thank you.
IVY: You should play your stuff at The Ascot.
VITA: Perhaps.
IVY: Go on. Play me something.
VITA: Alright. [Flexes fingers.]
IVY: Play "Danny Boy."
VITA: I'm afraid that I can't.
IVY: "Daisy, Daisy."
VITA: No, I can't do that, either.
IVY: "When Father Papered The Parlour."
VITA: Look, I'm afraid that I don't know any of the songs that you do. You'll just have to endure my own limited repertoire.
[IVY shrugs. VITA plays a piece. She has a clear aptitude, but her heart isn't in it.]
IVY: Now, show me.
VITA: That would take too much time.
IVY: I've got time.
VITA: Look - the only way that you could do it would be if you put your hands under mine - so -
IVY: Alright.
[They play the piece as well as one might expect, and then analyse the performance until MRS. S. bursts in]
MRS. S: Cease this racket at once! What on earth do you call this?
VITA: It's Ivy's piano lesson, mother.
MRS. S: Well, it's not like any lesson that I've seen before.
VITA: Sorry.
MRS. S: So you should be. It would be bad enough any time, but especially with these dreadful farmers being here too. How must they imagine that we carry on? Like a Moroccan Market at closing time.
VITA: We were just being silly. It won't happen again.
MRS. S: I should hope not! If this is what your lesson consists of, then I don't want to see another one!
VITA: Sorry, mother.
MRS. S: Do you understand me?
VITA: Yes.
MRS. S: Good. God knows that I don't expect much in the way of my children's behaviour, but I might expect them to have a litte in the way of decorum in my own house.
VITA: I didn't mean to upset you, mother.
MRS. S: No, I dare say so. Go and have tea with your sister in the drawing room.
VITA: Oh, is George here?
MRS. S: Yes. That is what I just said. We have the rare privilege of a visit from her.
VITA: Oh good.
[Exit Vita to The Drawing Room]
MRS. S: Now, what were you doing with my daughter?
IVY: I was playing the piano.
MRS. S: No, you weren't. You can't play it, can you?
IVY: No, I'm learning off of her.
MRS. S: Well, I won't allow you to anymore. How did all of this start, anyway?
IVY: Well, I was in the room and she was playing the piano and I said that's nice and she said can you play so I -
MRS. S: Enough of your prattle! What on earth were you doing in this room, anyway?
[IVY tries to explain until Herbert enters]
HERBERT: Hello, Mother. Is everything alright?
MRS. S: Just listen to what I have to endure in the way of staff these days. What were you doing in this room?
IVY: I was dusting.
MRS. S: You shouldn't have been here in the first place! It's not in your provenance. You were loitering, weren't you?
IVY: I was what?
MRS. S: Lurking! You shouldn't have been in here.
IVY: I had nothing to do, so I thought I'd work in here.
HERBERT: That's a very industrious attitude and it does you credit, Ivy.
IVY: Ta.
MRS. S: Don't be so wet, Herbert! When you're not engaged up here, you go to your quarters. Do you understand?
IVY: Yeah.
MRS. S: What are you going to say to me?
IVY: Nothing?
MRS. S: I think that you are, young lady.
IVY: I can't thing of nothing. [Silence]
HERBERT: I think that mother wants you to say sorry to her, Ivy.
IVY: Oh, right. [Pause] Sorry.
HERBERT: Good. Well, if that's all settled, then we -
MRS. S: No, I'm not finished, Herbert. What were you doing in the room with Vita?
IVY: Well, she came in and started playing the piano. [Pause] So?
MRS. S: When you are in a room and one of the family comes in, then you leave, unless we ask you to stay. Do you understand?
IVY: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I see.
MRS. S: Don't speak to me like that.
IVY: Sorry, Mrs Sutherland.
HERBERT: That's better. Shall we go, Mother?
MRS. S: I don't know what you consider normal behaviour in the slum where you come from. But if you don't buck up your ideas soon, you'll be going back there.
HERBERT: Mother!
IVY: We've only got one room in Bermondsey.
HERBERT: [Whispers] Mother, you've upset her now!
MRS. S: For Christ's sake, Herbert, stop whispering - it's our house after all. I'm glad if the little wretch is upset. She upsets me - breaking plates, not cleaning up properly, banging doors, being surly and stupid -
HERBERT: I really think that you're being a little harsh. She is only a child.
MRS. S: Oh, no! I'm sure tht she know a few East End tricks that would make any decent woman blush.
IVY: That's not fair! You don't know nuffink about who I am.
MRS. S: Don't you answer back to me! Speak when you're spoken to! And you can keep away from her, Herbert - you're not as grown up as you think you are and she's a bad influence on you.
HERBERT: I understand, Mother. I'll only be living here for a week more, anyway.
MRS. S: Surely you're not going to Bongo-Bongo Land already?
HERBERT: I'm going to Abyssinia, Mother - you can remember the name if you try. Though not for three months yet.
MRS. S: Where are you going, then? A monastery?
HERBERT: No, Mother. I'm going to Bermondsey, actually.
MRS. S: What on earth for?
HERBERT: I'll be working at a mission while I learn about going to Africa. I'll be teaching children, doing a little medicine, helping run a boys' club.
IVY: You can see my brothers and sisters!
MRS. S: Ugh! Well, don't blame me if you die of typhoid or rabies or rickets or find yourself being garrotted by Chinamen! Oh, why can't I have normal children?
[Exit MRS. S. to the Drawing Room]
IVY: Herbert?
HERBERT: Yes, Ivy.
IVY: About your mum -
HERBERT: Yes, I'm afraid you'll have to forgive her for what she says, Ivy. [Pause]
IVY: What she said about me being a bad influence on you?
HERBERT: Yes. [Pause]
IVY: She might be right, you know.
HERBERT: Oh - well - really - I think that -
IVY: Come and see me alone, sometime. You might find out.
HERBERT: Oh, Ivy, you really shouldn't say such things.
IVY: Why? It's not wrong, is it?
HERBERT: Well, yes it is actually.
[IVY flirts and makes more suggestive comments to HERBERT, who becomes more flustered until ARTHUR enters]
ARTHUR: Your father wishes to see you, in his study, sir.
HERBERT: Oh, thank God for that! Oh - Thank Goodness, I mean -
[HERBERT exits swiftly to The Study]
ARTHUR: What was the matter with him?
IVY: Dunno. They're all a bit funny, here, aren't they?
ARTHUR: If you want to be a successful maid, that's not the way you should think about your employers.
IVY: How should I, then?
ARTHUR: First and foremost, they aren't people like you or I. They are masters - their existence is determined by the commands that they give us. It's only once that you've accepted that that you can start treating them as fellow persons.
IVY: But they are people - same as you and me. That glum one who teaches me the piano, for example.
ARTHUR: Yes, I've been meaning to have a word with you about that. How serious are you about learning to play?
IVY: Well, I might as well, if it's going free.
ARTHUR: And are you improving?
IVY: Yeah. Sort of.
ARTHUR: So you could play for me.
IVY: No. Not really.
ARTHUR: Then, I'd lay off it for a while, if I were you. These daughters, they want to feel that they're doing good, but they don't really have the time or the understanding to help us.
IVY: Yeah.
ARTHUR: How are you finding the countryside?
IVY: S'all right. It's a bit quiet. Sometimes I listen out and all I can hear is birds singing.
ARTHUR: It can be very calm out here.
IVY: It's boring. In Bermondsey you can always hear someone shouting about something. People there are alive.
ARTHUR: People are alive here, too.
IVY: You seen them farmers? You can't tell the difference between them and their cows.
ARTHUR: How about the young ladies at The University?
IVY: What? D' you like them?
ARTHUR: Yes, I quite enjoy there being so many civilised young ladies in town - sometimes when I walk to Englefield Green, I have to take off my hat twenty times or more.
IVY: Watch you don't go in the rain, then. I can't stand 'em, myself. All pinched and superior. You couldn't have a laugh or a sing-song with them.
ARTHUR: I don't think that's the sort of thing they're used to.
IVY: What a waste of time! Reading books and scowling at people all day long.
ARTHUR: What are you doing this afternoon?
IVY: Nothing much. They're having a tea party next door, so I've got to take a tray in and out. Then I thought I'd go for a walk to the station and see all the people going up to London.
ARTHUR: Do you miss home?
IVY: Well, it's a bit ... boring here, isn't it? Spending all day washing and cleaning and being told off. Mind you, at least I get paid for it - I dunno what their ladyships do.
ARTHUR: Well, if it ever gets you down too much, I'm sure that I could arrange a few days off for you to go to London.
IVY: Could you?
ARTHUR: Yes, Ivy. Remember that you're employed here at my trust and my discretion. That means that I look after you just as much as I look over you.
IVY: Oh, Thanks, Arf!
ARTHUR: That's quite alright. Now we both have duties to attend to. Oh - and Ivy -
IVY: Yeah?
ARTHUR: Please ensure that you never refer to me as "Arf" in company.
IVY: Yes, SIR.
[IVY and ARTHUR exit to the Stairwell, where they stay until ARTHUR is called to the Study]
[MOLLY and NELL enter the nursery with all the hauteur and deportment that
their argument with the farmers has given them. Once they've shut the door,
they revert to their more common selves.]
MOLLY: Oh, Nell! Oh, Nell! We're in so much trouble, now. What are we going to do?
NELL: No, we aren't.
MOLLY: Yes, we are!
NELL: You call this trouble? I know trouble. Trouble is two of you and a dozen men. If you can't use your wits to come out of that in control and in profit, then being in a nice big house like this is as dangerous as a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.
MOLLY: Yes, but we might be arrested.
NELL: Well, we might - but we've been arrested before.
MOLLY: But not for stealing things from rich people.
NELL: Well then, you can pretend to be a pathetic fallen woman, in that instance.
MOLLY: I feel like a pathetic fallen woman at the moment.
NELL: Oh, for Christ's sake -
MOLLY: Don't take the Lord's Name in vain!
NELL: For the King's sake, then! Act like a victim and you'll become one. Anyway, calm down. We haven't been arrested yet.
MOLLY: Nobody's raised an alarm. So what do we do now?
NELL: We get out. An aptitude test for you, Molly. How?
MOLLY: Er ... Well, I imagine that we could still persuade that farmer to take us to his home.
NELL: Maybe, baby doll. But too much trouble. Do you know what I'm thinking?
MOLLY: I hope that it's nice.
NELL: It's very nice. I think that we should go out of that window.
MOLLY: But people will see us!
NELL: Perhaps. So?
MOLLY: They'll ask us what we're doing here.
NELL: Not if we run fast enough. If anyone asks us, we're respectable ladies who took a short cut. When we realised where we were, we decided to run so as not to get in anyone's way for too long.
MOLLY: Well, alright. So long as we leave the candlesticks and the watch here. If we get caught with them, then we'll be in trouble.
NELL: No - if we get caught with them - we hand them back. We didn't realise that we weren't supposed to take them.
MOLLY: I know that you think that I'm the soppy tart, but even I don't find that convincing.
NELL: It's not supposed to be - if we flash our thighs and loll our tongues
provocatively, they won't make any trouble.
MOLLY: Your faith in our sexual allure is almost all-encompassing. What happens if a woman catches us, for example?
NELL: She'd let us go. Home Counties people gossip like no-one else - largely because there's nothing else to do in a place like Egham. "Prostitutes arrested in distinguished peoples' house" - How's that going to sound?
MOLLY: Even so, I won't take the treasure with me. It's stealing; and the Bible tells us that that's a terrible sin.
NELL: You weren't treating the Bible with much respect half an hour ago.
MOLLY: Oh, no. Don't remind me. I've done a terrible thing.
NELL: No, you haven't. If we don't take our swag with us, then think what we've done. Gone all the way from the East End to Surrey for no reward other than to engage in satanic sexual rituals for a man simultaneously inadequate and demanding. There's nothing so humiliating as being left out of pocket for exerting yourself.
MOLLY: No! Turning your back on Jesus is the only true crime.
NELL: Well, pray for forgiveness, if you have to. Then, look, I'll tell you what. If it makes you feel better, I'll take all the treasure home and I won't share any of the money we get for it with you.
MOLLY: No - you go, Nell - but I shall stay here and throw myself upon God's mercy.
NELL: If you do that, I won't ever set eyes on you again.
Don't be a fool, Molly. Help me with this window
[MOLLY does so.]
MOLLY: I mean what I say, Nell.
NELL: Have a think about it while you're taking the train home with me, instead.
MOLLY: No.
NELL: Oh, Jesus! Look - you've got a choice - to be left to the dogs by God, or to stay in the race, courtesy of money.
MOLLY: Then it must be Jesus!
NELL: I won't let you back again, you know.
MOLLY: I'll pray for you, Nell.
NELL: You'll be praying in the gutter, if you do. I'm going now.
[She stays on the ledge.]
Come with me.
MOLLY: No, the Lord is my shepherd.
NELL: Look, at least take this watch. You can sell it for a few guineas and stay somewhere respectable until you make up your mind.
[Silence]
I'll leave it for you, alright?
[MOLLY can react to the NELL kerfuffle until HARLEY arrives.]
[Enter HARLEY, in a rage; GEORGE following behind, concerned. MOLLY hides behind the piano. Neither GEORGE or HARLEY notice her.]
GEORGE: Harley? Harley? Are you not feeling well?
HARLEY: I feel superb, sister. I've never felt more alive.
GEORGE: You don't have to be sarcastic with me.
HARLEY: Yes. Sorry.
GEORGE: That's alright.
HARLEY: I'm not being sarcastic, actually. Rage is a visceral emotion.
GEORGE: You have to harness it and use it, big time.
[HARLEY hits the piano. MOLLY cowers.]
GEORGE: That's not what I meant.
HARLEY: No, no, no.
GEORGE: What's provoked you?
HARLEY: Oh ... Father's plans for my glittering future.
GEORGE: What did he want you to do?
HARLEY: Disappear, in one way or another.
GEORGE: He wouldn't want that - he wants you to achieve something.
HARLEY: Within his own limited parameters. Anyway, my life is already full of
achievements.
GEORGE: Yes, I can imagine.
HARLEY: Would you like to hear about them?
GEORGE: Certainly not! You're my big brother, I don't want you to hurt me.
HARLEY: That's kind of you. It's a pity my exploits do have a kind of poetry about them. I could write a book about it.
GEORGE: The age of decadence has passed. Go to Paris.
HARLEY: You see. Even you want me to go away.
GEORGE: What's Daddy told you?
HARLEY: To go to Tonga.
GEORGE: Tonga!?
HARLEY: I'd heard of being sent to Coventry, but this is ridiculous!
GEORGE: What did he want you to do there?
HARLEY: Be paid to lie low. Die of some tropical disease, I expect.
GEORGE: Don't be so hard on him. You'll die of an exotic disease in London soon, if you don't change.
HARLEY: You won't be surprised to hear that I refused his generous offer.
GEORGE: But, he's always making proposals to you. Surely this one can't have made you so much more angry?
HARLEY: Well, Tonga is about as extreme as you can get. Maybe, he'll suggest that I go the moon, next. No, he didn't just make me an offer, he gave me an ultimatum.
GEORGE: To stop behaving as you do?
HARLEY: No, I think that he's given up on that. To give up seeing him and coming here.
GEORGE: But you hardly do that, anyway. The rest of us would visit you.
HARLEY: Mother? Little Miss Straight-laced and the Boy Missionary? Hmm.
GEORGE: You must learn to hold your sarcastic tongue.
HARLEY: Bit late for that now.
GEORGE: I'd visit you. I'd see that you were alright. You're too hard on the family. I could persuade them to see you.
HARLEY: Well, it wasn't just that. He wants me to stop being his son.
GEORGE: But you are his son.
HARLEY: He'll pay me to change my name and lose my rights as the eldest Sutherland. But if I remain Harley Sutherland, he won't give me a farthing, ever again.
GEORGE: What will you do?
HARLEY: Perhaps I shall take your earlier advice and beg for centimes in Paris, to pay for Absinthe, like a character in Zola.
GEORGE: Don't say such upsetting things! I won't let it happen! It's not Christian, for one thing, to cast out one's own son. I'll get Herbert to talk to him.
HARLEY: No! Please! I'd rather be a penniless vagrant than having him putting forth a pious and spurious case for my defence.
GEORGE: You won't be helped, will you?
HARLEY: I'm sure that something will come up.
GEORGE: Oooh. My brother, my brother, what's happening to you?
HARLEY: Nothing's changed. I'm still Harley Sutherland, and always will be - however much some might try to deny it.
GEORGE: But you taught me to ride! You taught me to shoot, mended my broken toys, brought me milk and biscuits up when I'd been sent to my room without any supper.
HARLEY: And you can look after yourself very well now.
GEORGE: But I love you. And I won't see you destroyed.
HARLEY: Destroyed is such a pejorative term. I live a life of risk and adventure.
GEORGE: But you're not happy, Big H.
HARLEY: My life is not without its pleasures. Immensely stimulating ones, in fact.
GEORGE: But they aren't pleasures.
HARLEY: You seem very sure of that.
GEORGE: Yes, real pleasure is blameless, it's good, it's wholesome. Making a meal for someone who enjoys it, being purposeful, finding genuine enjoyment in small things.
HARLEY: But we have cooks and maids to do the minor chores for us. Stop running away from the fact that you're upper class.
GEORGE: I'm not running away at all, dearest brother. But just look at mother - she can never have the simple pleasure of having cooked a meal for herself, washed her own clothes ... She'd be more occupied, if she could, and then wouldn't spend hours feeling persecuted by the servants.
HARLEY: You can't imagine what my pleasure are, can you? Oh, you know the names of my activities, but you can't actually see what could be gained through them. Powders and opiates change my world because they change my perceptions. Only if you know how to be cruel to people, then you understand real kindness -
GEORGE: Oh, don't tell me. You're wrong, that's all. It's so sad - once you had
fiancees, then you had mistresses, then you had -
HARLEY: Well - finish your sentence.
GEORGE: Prostitutes ... [Very upset]
HARLEY: [With relish] Whores, sluts, coquettes, slappers, bints -
[Whimper from MOLLY, whom neither Sutherland notices]
GEORGE: Stop it!
HARLEY: Maybe I've just gravitated to my true level.
GEORGE: It's dishonest. I'm not convinced about marriage, but I do know that a wife is engaged in a more equitable relationship that a prostitute.
HARLEY: No, it's precisely the same thing - money and ownership. Such has always been the way between men and women. Such will always be the way.
GEORGE: Well, it's up to us to change that, isn't it?
HARLEY: So, why do you avoid men?
GEORGE: I don't! Some of my best friends are male!
HARLEY: So why have you never ... ?
GEORGE: I don't know - it's never seemed appropriate, somehow. Men do like me. I'm not Vita, you know.
HARLEY: I can see that. What do you do when they like you?
GEORGE: Get to know them! Be sincere, sometimes. I can introduce them to someone else whom I know will be suitable for them. I like doing that - that really does make me happy. I'm a good matchmaker.
[Pause]
HARLEY: I can see that. But you must understand the ridiculousness of you telling me of the niceties of and the decorum that must be attached to sexual intercourse.
GEORGE: Why?
HARLEY: Well - I don't, genuinely, wish to be brutal, but - how would you know?
GEORGE: Don't patronise me, Harley. You don't need to know intimate information about me.
HARLEY: Have you even been kissed by a man yet?
GEORGE: By a man? Yes. When I was eighteen - at that stupid ball Mother insisted I have - the Duke of Croydon kissed me!
HARLEY: Did you enjoy it?
GEORGE: Not, especially. When I was eight years old I had a little rubber octopus that walked down windows when you doused it in soapy water. It was like that - not a terribly pleasant experience. [Pause]
HARLEY: I bought you that octopus! [Pause]
GEORGE: Harley - come and stay with me in Maida Vale. I can look after you.
HARLEY: What is there to do in Maida Vale? What are you greatest pleasures?
GEORGE: Well - the movement - I'm working terribly hard to organise a rally that is taking place in a fortnight. But I often go out to the theatre and Billiard Hall-
HARLEY: Any pleasures that I might share with you?
GEORGE: I like to take a walk every day, and I get the chance to attend debates and lectures occasionally. I spend time with my female comrades-
HARLEY: Is that what makes you most happy in life?
GEORGE: No. I think that what makes me more happy than anything else is -
[Silence]
HARLEY: I'm sorry, George. But I think I'd soon become restless, if I lived with you.
[HARLEY walks to the door.]
GEORGE: Oh, Harley, don't do anything that I wouldn't do!
HARLEY: Well. I won't be voting in the near future.
[Exit HARLEY to The Bedroom. GEORGE bursts into uncontrollable tears. So, but for different reasons does MOLLY. GEORGE doesn't immediately notice this, but eventually realises that she has company, and looks behind the piano]
GEORGE: Gosh! What are you doing there? Come out - don't be afraid!
[After a pause, MOLLY does so]
You've been crying!
MOLLY: So have you.
GEORGE: Are you frightened?
[MOLLY nods]
Don't be. You needn't fear me. I'm George -
[MOLLY hands HARLEY'S watch over to GEORGE]
Whose is this?
MOLLY: It belongs to your brother.
GEORGE: Which one?
MOLLY: The one who made you cry.
GEORGE: Where did you find it?
MOLLY: In his bedroom. I stole it, but I'm sorry, and I want to give it back to him.
GEORGE: In his bedroom here?
MOLLY: Yes.
GEORGE: What's your name?
MOLLY: Molly.
GEORGE: My name's Georgina, but I'd prefer it if you'd call me George. How old are you?
MOLLY: Seventeen.
GEORGE: That's awful. You poor girl.
MOLLY: He doesn't care about me.
GEORGE: I don't think that he cares about anyone, not even himself.
MOLLY: You care about him, though.
GEORGE: Of course I do. He's my brother.
MOLLY: Nobody cares about me.
GEORGE: I'm sure that's not true. You're-
MOLLY: Your brother doesn't really like women like me. I could tell by the things that he said to you. The names he used.
GEORGE: I don't imagine that those insults were directed at all personally.
MOLLY: But I've done some terrible things.
GEORGE: I'm sure that they're not as terrible as the things that have been done to you.
MOLLY: Most men tell me that I should be ashamed of myself.
GEORGE: Huh! More like they should be ashamed of themselves!
MOLLY: I don't know. I often feel ashamed of myself.
GEORGE: The important thing is that you are kind, good and fair.
MOLLY: But why should I be kind and good? No one's kind and good to me. It's easy for you to be kind and good and fair - you have money, a decent home, you're respectable! I won't ever be.
GEORGE: You're only seventeen. You still have time-
MOLLY: Yes, but I don't have the means! Why do you think I do this job?
GEORGE: You're so young, and yet so old. And so pretty.
MOLLY: What am I going to do, George?
GEORGE: Well... you can't carry on as you have been.
MOLLY: It's easy for you to say that.
GEORGE: I appreciate that. Perhaps you could come and stay with me in my flat for a week or two, Molly. You can get your feet back on the ground, and together, we can look out for other things for you to do.
MOLLY: But you're a rich woman! I could never afford the rent! I've got no money!
GEORGE: You won't need any, Molly.
MOLLY: That's very kind, but I imagine that you'll be embarrassed of me: you don't want me around.
GEORGE: I certainly would not embarrassed of you being associated with me. And you'd brighten the place up - stop me going staid.
MOLLY: But-
GEORGE: Look - you have as much right to that place as I do.
MOLLY: But-
GEORGE: Everyone should be given the same chances in life, Molly. You're still young. There's no reason why you can't make something of yourself.
MOLLY: I don't understand. Why are you being so kind?
GEORGE: I'm just being fair. Besides, it could be fun...
MOLLY: Maida Vale, did I hear you say? I'd have to get a new dress...
[They start giggling. MOLLY hugs GEORGE - an action that GEORGE is clearly not used to. GEORGE responds with an affection that surprises her, and in the process, still giggling, they bump heads. MOLLY tenderly touches GEORGE's head, and an affectionate moment passes between them as they make eye-contact...]
HERBERT and NELL can be seen walking past outside, as MOLLY and GEORGE silently contemplate their encounter...]