The Mousetrap

TREVES. (Crossing to the doorL.) One has to go with the times, Camilla. (He opens the door.)

LADYTRESSILIAN. I feel very tired. I shall rest before lunch. (She turns to Nevile.) But you must behave yourself, Nevile. With or without reason, Kay is jealous. (She emphasizes her following words by banging her stick on the carpet.) I will not have these discordant scenes in my house. (She peaks offL.) Ah, Mary—I shall lie down on the library sofa. (Lady Tressilian exits L. Treves closes the door.)

NEVILE. (Sitting on the chaise.) She speaks to me as though I were six.

TREVES. (Moving upR. C. and standing with his back to the audience.) At her age, she doubtless feels you are six.

NEVILE. (Recovering his temper with an effort.) Yes, I suppose so. It must be ghastly to be old.

TREVES. (After a slight pause, turning.) It has its compensations, I assure you. (Dryly.) There is no longer any question of emotional involvements.

NEVILE. (Grinning.) That’s certainly something. (He rises and moves above the chaise to the French windows.) I suppose I’d better go and make my peace with Kay. I really can’t see, though, why she has to fly off the handle like this. Audrey might very well be jealous of her, but I can’t see why she should be jealous of Audrey. Can you? (Nevile grins and exits by the French windows. Treves thoughtfully strokes his chin for a moment or two, then goes to the wastepaper basket, takes out the pieces of the torn photograph and turns to the bureau to put the pieces into a pigeon-hole. Audrey enters L., looking round rather cautiously for Nevile. She carries a magazine.)

AUDREY. (Crossing to the coffee table, surprised.) What are you doing with my photograph? (She puts the magazine on the table.)

TREVES. (Turning and holding out the pieces of the photograph.) It seems to have been torn.

AUDREY. Who tore it?

TREVES. Mrs. Barrett, I suppose—that is the name of the woman in the cloth cap who cleans this room? I thought I would put it in here until it can be mended. (Treves’ eyes meet Audrey’s for a moment, then he puts the pieces of the photograph in the bureau.)

AUDREY. It wasn’t Mrs. Barrett, was it?

TREVES. I have no information—but I should think probably not.

AUDREY. Was it Kay?

TREVES. I told you—I have no information. (There is a pause, during which Audrey crosses to R. of the armchair R.)

AUDREY. Oh, dear, this is all very uncomfortable.

TREVES. Why did you come here, my dear?

AUDREY. I suppose because I always come here at this time. (She crosses and stands below the armchairL. C.)

TREVES. But with Nevile coming here, wouldn’t it have been better to have postponed your visit?

AUDREY. I couldn’t do that. I have a job, you know. I have to earn my living. I have two weeks’ holiday and once that is arranged I can’t alter it.

TREVES. An interesting job?

AUDREY. Not particularly, but it pays quite well.

TREVES. (Moving toR. of the coffee table.) But, my dear Audrey, Nevile is a very well-to-do man. Under the terms of your divorce he has to make suitable provision for you.

AUDREY. I have never taken a penny from Nevile. I never shall.

TREVES. Quite so. Quite so. Several of my clients have taken that point of view. It has been my duty to dissuade them. In the end, you know, one must be guided by common sense. You have hardly any money of your own, I know. It is only just and right that you should be provided for suitably by Nevile, who can well afford it. Who were your solicitors, because I could . . .

AUDREY. (Sitting in the armchairL. C.) It’s nothing to do with solicitors. I won’t take anything from Nevile—anything at all.

TREVES. (Eyeing her thoughtfully.) I see—you feel strongly—very strongly.

AUDREY. If you like to put it that way, yes.