East of Suez: A Play in Seven Scenes

Knox. I think he's damned lucky if he's not asked to resign.

Harry. It's cruel. His wife may be a charming and cultivated woman.

Knox. Have you ever known a half-caste that was?

Harry. I have.

Knox. Well, I've been in this country for seven years and I've never met one, male or female, that didn't give me the shivers.

Harry. I've no patience with you. You're a perfect damned fool.

Knox. [A little surprised, but quite good-humoured.] You're getting rather excited, aren't you?

Harry. [Hotly.] I hate injustice.

George. Do you think it really is injustice? The English are not an unkindly race. If they've got a down on half-castes there are probably very good grounds for it.

Harry. What are they?

Knox. We don't much like their morals, but we can't stick their manners.

George. Somehow or other they seem to inherit all the bad qualities of the two races from which they spring and none of the good ones. I'm sure there are exceptions, but on the whole the Eurasian is vulgar and noisy. He can't tell the truth if he tries.

Knox. To do him justice, he seldom tries.

George. He's as vain as a peacock. He'll cringe when he's afraid of you and he'll bully when he's not. You can never rely on him. He's crooked from the crown of his German hat to the toes of his American boots.

Knox. Straight from the shoulder. Take the count, old man.

Harry. [Frigidly.] Oughtn't you to be going?

Knox. [Smiling.] No, but I will.

Harry. I'm sorry if I was rude to you just now, old man.

Knox. Silly ass, you've broken no bones; my self-esteem, thank God, is unimpaired. [He goes out.

Harry. I say, I'm awfully glad you're back, George. You can't think how I miss you when you're away.

George. As soon as the shooting starts we'll try and get two or three days together in the country.

Harry. Yes, that would be jolly. [Calling.] Wu.

Wu. [Outside.] Ye'.

Harry. Bring tea for three.

George. Who is the third?

Harry. When you said you could come round I asked somebody I want you very much to meet.

George. Who is that?

Harry. Mrs. Rathbone … I'm going to be married to her and we want you to be our best man.

George. Harry.

Harry. [Boyishly.] I thought you'd be surprised.

George. My dear old boy, I am so glad. I hope you'll be awfully happy.

Harry. I'm awfully happy now.

George. Why have you kept it so dark?

Harry. I didn't want to say anything till it was all settled. Besides, I've only known her six weeks. I met her when I was down in Shanghai…

George. Is she a widow?

Harry. Yes, she was married to an American in the F. M. S.

George. Is she American?

Harry. Only by marriage. I'm afraid she didn't have a very happy married life.

George. Poor thing. I think I'd take a small bet that you won't beat her.

Harry. I mean to try my best to make her happy.

George. You old fool, I've never known a man who was likely to make a better husband.

Harry. I'm most awfully in love with her, George.

George. Isn't that ripping? How old is she?

Harry. Only twenty-two. She's the loveliest thing you ever saw.

George. And is she in love with you?

Harry. She says so.

George. She damned well ought to be.

Harry. I do hope you'll like her, George.

George. Of course I shall. You're not the sort of chap to fall in love with a woman who isn't nice.

[Harry walks up and down for a moment restlessly.