Peter. No, we won't. I can't ask you to marry me yet because I am not rich. I'm merely prospering. But I ask you to wait. Give me a year--no, six months. I can offer you a home in London then. It won't be worthy of you, but we shan't stagnate. May I come to you in six months' time to get your answer to the question I haven't yet the right to ask?
Peter. No. Rut I know six months of Midlandton are longer than six years here. You badly want to live in London now. You'll want it worse then. Don't think of me as I was. That's buried. Think of me as I am and as I'm going to be. (_Electric bell rings right._) That's probably your brother.
Glad (_half sorry, but on the whole relieved_). Yes. Don't keep him waiting.
Peter (_moving right, and stopping_). Before I open the door won't you tell me what I want to know? It's all for you--all my ambitions. I only want position for you to grace it, money for you to spend. Give me six happy months of hope.
Glad, (_with a low laugh_). Will hoping make you happy?
Glad (_sincerely_). Then by all means hope.
Peter. That's all I want. (_He looks at her humbly. She extends her hand impulsively. Peter kisses it reverently._)
Glad. You're very absurd. Now let my brother in.
[_Peter crosses and opens door right, leaving it half open, as he goes through and opens outside door._
Peter (_heard off right, in surprised voice_). Hullo!
Ned. (_off right, less loudly_). Good evening.
[_Peter appears outside door right, pulling it to him._
Peter (_off_). Leave your coats here. Excuse me. I'll--I'll just close this door and keep the cold out till you're ready.
[_He enters rapidly, opening the door as little as possible, and closing it quickly, putting his back to it. The manouvre is not, however, executed fast enough to prevent Jones peering over his shoulder as he enters._
Peter (_standing against the door_). It's not your brother.
Glad, (_dryly_). I gathered that. I'd better go without him.
Peter (_agitated_). You can't. That's the only way out. They'd see you.
Peter. Yes. Let them get a glimpse of you, and God only knows what tale will be over Midlandton.
Glad, (_agreeing_). Yes. They mus'n't see me. On no account. (_She crosses to left, Peter nods approvingly._) Peter. My mother's there. I'll get rid of them quickly. Glad. Remember, I'm trusting you.