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The Débutante

           ROSALIND:Thatwasoneofthoseromantic,pre-battleaffairs.They’reallwrong.

           MRS.CONNAGE:(Hersaysaid)Atanyrate,makeusproudofyouto-night.

           ROSALIND:Don’tyouthinkI’mbeautiful?

           MRS.CONNAGE:Youknowyouare.

           (Fromdown-stairsisheardthemoanofaviolinbeingtuned,therollofadrum.MRS.CONNAGEturnsquicklytoherdaughter.)

           MRS.CONNAGE:Come!

           ROSALIND:Oneminute!

           (Hermotherleaves.ROSALINDgoestotheglasswhereshegazesatherselfwithgreatsatisfaction.Shekissesherhandandtoucheshermirroredmouthwithit.Thensheturnsoutthelightsandleavestheroom.Silenceforamoment.Afewchordsfromthepiano,thediscreetpatteroffaintdrums,therustleofnewsilk,allblendonthestaircaseoutsideanddriftinthroughthepartlyopeneddoor.Bundledfigurespassinthelightedhall.Thelaughterheardbelowbecomesdoubledandmultiplied.Thensomeonecomesin,closesthedoor,andswitchesonthelights.ItisCECELIA.Shegoestothechiffonier,looksinthedrawers,hesitatesthentothedeskwhenceshetakesthecigarette-caseandextractsone.Shelightsitandthen,puffingandblowing,walkstowardthemirror.)

           CECELIA:(Intremendouslysophisticatedaccents)Oh,yes,comingoutissuchafarcenowadays,youknow.Onereallyplaysaroundsomuchbeforeoneisseventeen,thatit’spositivelyanticlimax.(Shakinghandswithavisionarymiddle-agednobleman.)Yes,yourgraceIb’lieveI’veheardmysisterspeakofyou.Haveapuffthey’reverygood.They’rethey’reCoronas.

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