_Mrs. R._ (_ruefully_). I _can't_, Mother. We're not on speaking terms
just now, you know.
_Mrs. M._ Then I _shall_. Fortunately, _I_ am on speaking terms with
him--as he will find out! (_A ring._) There he is, at last! Go, my
poor darling, leave me to bring him to a sense of his disgraceful
conduct. (_Mrs. R. retires by the back drawing-room._) How shall
I begin? Ah, poor JOHN'S phonograph! How lucky _I_ remembered it!
(_Selecting a cylinder._) There, if _anything_ can pierce his hard
heart, _that_ will!
[_Winds up machine, which breaks into a merry marriage peal as JACK
enters in evening dress._
_Jack_ (_sullenly_). Now just look here, VIOLA--(_recognising Mrs.
M._) Hullo, the Mum!
_Mrs. M._ (_raising her voice above the clamour_). Mum no longer, Sir.
Do you hear those bells?
_Jack_. _Do I hear those bells?_ Am I deaf? The whole Parish can hear
them, I should think!
_Mrs. M._ I don't care if they do. I want to touch your conscience, if
I can, and I still hope--bad as you are--that when the voices of those
bells--so long silent--rung in anticipation of such a very different
future--fall upon your ear once more, they may--
_Jack_ (_with a sardonic laugh_). "So long silent!" I like that. Sorry
to disappoint you, my dear Mamma, but that phonograph, as a domestic
stimulant, was played out long ago--it has played _me_ out often
enough! Perhaps you don't know it, but really VIOLA has rather
overdone it.
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