160 MR. GRANVILLE BARKER AND AN ALIBI of tenderness, of ripeness and clear faith, which seems to flush the faces of the characters with the colour of the finest climax in the world — the infallible finale we call Dawn : — Jessica. Phil ... I sometimes think I'd sooner have been married to your father. Philip. Why? Jessica. If you went on as he did instead of as you do ... I should be sorry ... I should despise you . . . but it would string me up and add to my self-respect enormously ! {Then a little appealingly) But it's when you're inhuman, Phil . . . that I'm ever so little tempted. . . . Philip (contrite at once). I know I am. (Then he gets up and stands looking into the fire^ and what he says is heartfelt.) But I do so hate that farmyard world of sex — men and women always treating each other in this unfriendly way — that I'm afraid it hardens me a bit. Jessica (from her side, gently, tcith just a look at him). I hate it too — but I happen to love you, Phil. They smile to each other. Philip. Yes, my dear. If you'd kindly come over here . . . I should like to kiss you. Jessica. I won't. You can come over to me. Philip. Will you meet me half-way ? They meet half-way and kiss as husband and wife can. They stand together, looking into the fire. Philip. Do you know the sort of world I want to live in ? Jessica. Should I like it ? Philip. Hasn't Humanity come of age at last ? Jessica. Has it ? Philip. Mayn't we hope so ? Finery sits so well on children. And they strut and make love so absurdly . . . even their quarrel- ling is all in good faith and innocence. But I don't see why we men and women should not find all happiness — and beauty too — in soberer purposes. And with each other — why not always some touch of the tranquil understanding which is yours and mine, dear, at the best of moments ? Jessica (happily). Do you mean when we sometimes suddenly want to shake hands ?
