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World Without End The Characters Peter Worth Garrick Peel Romola Charrington Carlos Duval Faber Fleece Finley, the butler Darius Eyre Iris, Peter’s niece David Cross Mrs. Cross Robert Cross Act 1 The setting is Romola Charrington’s country home in England, a lovely old English house—mellowed by age and tradition. It is placed to the right of stage, with a brick terrace stretching out onto lawn. A huge tree grows in the center of the garden with masses of ®owers. Garden chairs are scattered about, and cooling drinks are on a table. To left of stage a boxhedge grows. Upstage stands an old stone wall with an iron gate in the center. Rolling country and clouds are seen beyond. It is about ¤ve o’clock of a hot summer’s afternoon after a glorious day. Through the act, shades change to twilight and then dark. Peter Worth and Garrick Peel are lounging back, talking languidly. Peter Worth is a man about 42 —tall and handsome with astrikinglystrong face. He has dark hair touched with gray. Garrick Peel is about seven years his junior. Distinctly the horsey, sporting type. His hair is blond. He seems vivacious and gay and rather a “busybody”—whereas Peter Worth impresses one as serious and reserved. As the curtain rises, Garrick Peel yawns, stretches, then leans over to table, pouring out whiskey and soda into a glass. Garrick Peel: Won’t you have a drink? It’s really been a beastly hot day. Peter Worth: No, thanks—I never drink, you know, never seemed to have added that virtue to my many others—I’ll have that lemonade , though, if you will just reach it over. (Garrick Peel leans over and passes lemonade.) Peter Worth: It’s remarkable how it cools off in the evenings 119 Library of Congress Copyright, January 12, 1925. Registration number 70039. down here after such a hot day—must have been a scorcher in town. Glad I was not there. Garrick Peel: Gad, it was!—I damn near burned up. When I got Mrs. Charrington’s wire asking me down, I put on all the reserved strength that had not melted away—jumped into a taxi, ®ew to the train, and just got the last one out. Lucky, I call myself. Hadn’t expected a dream and a snore in the country, much less a drink in such a garden. Peter Worth: This little garden really is enchanting at this time of evening, full of poetry and shadow. It’s the time of day I like most. I love the view from here. (Laughs.) You know I’ve always maintained this is a fairy garden. Garrick Peel: (Tilts his chair back, also laughs.) So I’ve always understood, or rather not so much about the fairy garden as the fairy princess who lives here. Peter Worth: I think one might easily call Romola a fairy princess —the kind one dreamed of as a child. Since her illness she even looks more ethereal and unreal. She really ought not to stay here. She should be on the continent in the mountains—(Sighs.) but one can’t do anything with her. She’s very headstrong. Garrick Peel: I was sorry to hear of her illness, although she does not look as ill as I thought she would. A tri®e nervous and keyed up perhaps. Peter Worth: She does too much. Garrick Peel: (After a pause in which he drinks) It’s curious to¤nd oneself in England after having been away so long. Peter Worth: Let me see, how long have you been away? Garrick Peel: Ten years. Ten years last May. Peter Worth: Is it possible? Heavens, it only seems yesterday when we had that farewell dinner. Garrick Peel: That’s the way time goes—at least for those at home. To us, out there in India, it doesn’t go quite so quickly. It seems to me forty years instead of ten. One gets so out of touch with things—for instance; I never knew Mrs. Cross (Corrects his slip.) Mrs. Charrington, had remarried. Oh, I heard a number of things about her, but never that. When did she remarry? Peter Worth: She didn’t. After her divorce she merely took back her maiden name of Charrington. Garrick Peel: Oh. So that’s it. And the gossip that I heard—was that true? Peter Worth: How should I know? I don’t know what you heard. World Without...

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