BANNAL. [sulkily] Oh, very well.  Sorry I spoke, I’m sure.

TROTTER.    |   Shaw--  |
|           | [beginning again
VAUGHAN.    |   Shaw—­  | simultaneously]
|           |
GUNN.       |   Shaw--  |

They are cut short by the entry of Fanny through the curtains.  She is almost in tears.

FANNY. [coming between Trotter and Gunn] I’m so sorry, gentlemen.  And it was such a success when I read it to the Cambridge Fabian Society!

TROTTER.  Miss O’Dowda:  I was about to tell these gentlemen what I guessed before the curtain rose:  that you are the author of the play. [General amazement and consternation].

FANNY.  And you all think it beastly.  You hate it.  You think I’m a conceited idiot, and that I shall never be able to write anything decent.

She is almost weeping.  A wave of sympathy carries away the critics.

VAUGHAN.  No, no.  Why, I was just saying that it must have been written by Pinero.  Didnt I, Gunn?

FANNY. [enormously flattered] Really?

TROTTER.  I thought Pinero was much too popular for the Cambridge
Fabian Society.

FANNY.  Oh yes, of course; but still—­Oh, did you really say that, Mr
Vaughan?

GUNN.  I owe you an apology, Miss O’Dowda.  I said it was by Barker.

FANNY. [radiant] Granville Barker!  Oh, you couldnt really have thought it so fine as that.

BANNAL. I said Bernard Shaw.

FANNY.  Oh, of course it would be a little like Bernard Shaw.  The
Fabian touch, you know.

BANNAL. [coming to her encouragingly] A jolly good little play, Miss O’Dowda.  Mind:  I dont say it’s like one of Shakespear’s—­Hamlet or The Lady of Lyons, you know—­but still, a firstrate little bit of work. [He shakes her hand].

GUNN. [following Bannal’s example] I also, Miss O’Dowda.  Capital. 
Charming. [He shakes hands].

VAUGHAN [with maudlin solemnity] Only be true to yourself, Miss O’Dowda.  Keep serious.  Give up making silly jokes.  Sustain the note of passion.  And youll do great things.

FANNY.  You think I have a future?

TROTTER.  You have a past, Miss O’Dowda.

FANNY. [looking apprehensively at her father] Sh-sh-sh!

THE COUNT.  A past!  What do you mean, Mr Trotter?

TROTTER. [to Fanny] You cant deceive me.  That bit about the police was real.  Youre a Suffraget, Miss O’Dowda.  You were on that Deputation.

THE COUNT.  Fanny:  is this true?

FANNY.  It is.  I did a month with Lady Constance Lytton; and I’m prouder of it than I ever was of anything or ever shall be again.

TROTTER.  Is that any reason why you should stuff naughty plays down my throat?

FANNY.  Yes:  itll teach you what it feels like to be forcibly fed.

THE COUNT.  She will never return to Venice.  I feel now as I felt when the Campanile fell.