wants it!

MRS MARCH. Johnny must come down to earth.

COOK. Ah! I remember how he used to fall down when he was little--he
would go about with his head in the air. But he always picked himself up
like a little man.

MARY. Listen!

They all listen. The distant sounds of a concertina being played
with fury drift in through the open door.

COOK. Don't it sound 'eavenly!

The concertina utters a long wail.

CURTAIN.

ACT III

The MARCH'S dining-room on the same evening at the end of a perfunctory
dinner. MRS MARCH sits at the dining-table with her back to the windows,
MARY opposite the hearth, and MR MARCH with his back to it. JOHNNY is
not present. Silence and gloom.

MR MARCH. We always seem to be eating.

MRS MARCH. You've eaten nothing.

MR MARCH. [Pouring himself out a liqueur glass of brandy but not
drinking it] It's humiliating to think we can't exist without.
[Relapses into gloom.]

MRS MARCH. Mary, pass him the walnuts.

MARY. I was thinking of taking them up to Johnny.

MR MARCH. [Looking at his watch] He's been there six hours; even he
can't live on faith.

MRS MARCH. If Johnny wants to make a martyr of himself, I can't help it.

MARY. How many days are you going to let him sit up there, Mother?

MR MARCH. [Glancing at MRS MARCH] I never in my life knew anything so
ridiculous.

MRS MARCH. Give me a little glass of brandy, Geof.

MR MARCH. Good! That's the first step towards seeing reason.

He pours brandy into a liqueur glass from the decanter which stands
between them. MRS MARCH puts the brandy to her lips and makes a
little face, then swallows it down manfully. MARY gets up with the
walnuts and goes. Silence. Gloom.

MRS MARCH. Horrid stuff!

MR MARCH. Haven't you begun to see that your policy's hopeless, Joan?
Come! Tell the girl she can stay. If we make Johnny feel victorious--we
can deal with him. It's just personal pride--the curse of this world.
Both you and Johnny are as stubborn as mules.

MRS MARCH. Human nature is stubborn, Geof. That's what you easy--going
people never see.

MR MARCH gets up, vexed, and goes to the fireplace.

MR MARCH. [Turning] Well! This goes further than you think. It
involves Johnny's affection and respect for you.

MRS MARCH nervously refills the little brandy glass, and again
empties it, with a grimacing shudder.

MR M