CROCKSTEAD.  Tell me more of your friend.

ALINE.  She is outwardly hard, and a trifle bitter, but I fancy sunshine would thaw her.  There has not been much happiness in her life.

CROCKSTEAD.  Would she marry a man she did not love?

ALINE.  If she did you would not respect her?

CROCKSTEAD.  I don’t say that.  She will be your choice; and therefore deserving of confidence.  Is she handsome?

ALINE.  Well—­no.

CROCKSTEAD. [With a quick glance at her.] That’s a pity.  But we can’t have everything.

ALINE.  No.  There is one episode in her life that I feel she would like you to know—­

CROCKSTEAD.  If you are not betraying a confidence—­

ALINE. [Looking down.] No.  She loved a man, years ago, very dearly.  They were too poor to marry, but they vowed to wait.  Within six months she learned that he was engaged.

CROCKSTEAD.  Ah!

ALINE.  To a fat and wealthy widow—­

CROCKSTEAD.  The old story.

ALINE.  Who was touring through India, and had been made love to by every unmarried officer in the regiment.  She chose him.

CROCKSTEAD.  India? [He moves towards her.]

ALINE.  Yes.

CROCKSTEAD.  I have an idea that I shall like your friend. [He takes her hand in his.]

ALINE.  I shall be careful to tell her all that you said to me—­at the beginning—­

CROCKSTEAD.  It is quite possible that my remarks may not apply after all.

ALINE.  But I believe myself from what I know of you both that—­if she marries you—­it will not be—­altogether—­for your money.

CROCKSTEAD.  Listen—­they’re playing “God Save the King.”  Will you be my wife, Aline?

ALINE.  Yes—­Harry.

     [He takes her in his arms and kisses her.

CURTAIN

THE MAN ON THE KERB

A DUOLOGUE

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

JOSEPH MATTHEWS
MARY (HIS WIFE)

TIME—­The present

SCENE—­Their home in the West End

Produced at the Aldwych Theatre on March 24, 1908

THE MAN ON THE KERB

SCENE:  An underground room, bare of any furniture except two or
     three broken chairs, a tattered mattress on the stone floor and
     an old trunk.  On a packing-chest are a few pots and pans and a
     kettle.  A few sacks are spread over the floor, close to the empty
     grate; the walls are discoloured, with plentiful signs of damp
     oozing through.  Close to the door, at back, is a window, looking
     on to the area; two of the panes are broken and stuffed with
     paper.