_Mary._ Marmaduke, you are rich, you are beautiful and you are kind to me in your rather wicked way. But, alas! I cannot forget the noble figure of George--my George. [_She sobs._ _Enter_ George Jeffreys, _in the uniform of a private._ _G.J._ Mary! _M.B._ (_intervening jauntily_). Well, my man? _G.J._ (_his vocabulary strengthened by Army life_). You dash blank blighter! You ruddy plague-spot! _Mary_ (_gazing at him with horror_). Oh, George, those--clothes--don't--fit! [_Sobs heartbrokenly._ _M.B._ (_striking while the iron is hot_). Mary, you shall choose between us, here and now. _G.J._ (_yearningly_). Mary, with you to cheer me on I will win the V.C. I swear it. My beloved, come with me; there will be a separation allowance. _Mary_ (_shuddering_). Not in those trousers. I--can't. [_She swoons in_ Marmaduke's _arms._ George _raises his fist to strike_ Marmaduke. _Enter_ Sergeant Tompkins. _Sergt. T._ 'Ere, none o' that. Private Jeffreys, 'SHUN! Right--TURN! About--TURN! Left--TURN! Quick--MARCH! [_Exit_ George _to win V.C._ CURTAIN. ACT III. Marmaduke's _Mansion in Park Lane, August, 1916._ [_Enter_ Mary Beltravers (_née_ Gray), _unhappy._ _Mary._ My little dog--my only friend--I cannot find him. (_She rummages absently among the papers on her husband's desk. Suddenly she snatches up a document, reads it through and clutches at her throat._) My husband--a German ser-py! (_She turns savagely on_ Marmaduke, _who has just entered._) So this--this is the source of our wealth! Your munitions arm our enemies. You play the German game. _M.B._ (_simply_). I do. I have a birth qualification. _Mary_ (_wildly_). But I'll thwart you; I'll denounce you (_seizes telephone_). You shall rue the day you married a true daughter of England. _M.B._ (_with sinister significance_). Remember, Mary, "to love, honour and OBEY." Put down that instrument. [_With a gesture of despair she lets the receiver fall, thus driving the girl at the exchange nearly frantic. Suddenly the door is thrown open. Enter_ Captain George Jeffreys _with_ Sergeant-Major Tompkins _and squad of soldiers._ _G.J._ Marmaduke Beltravers, _né_ Heinrich Hoggenheimer, the game is up. (Marmaduke _dashes to the window. The dozen supers outside raise a howl of execration mingled with cries of "Lynch the spy!_") You see, there is no way of escape. _M.B._ (_drawing revolver_). You shall not long enjoy your triumph. I have but one cartridge, but perchance it will be enough for you. [_Pulls trigger, but finds action rather stiff._ _G.J._ Look out, Mary! These things are rather tricky in inexperienced hands. [Marmaduke _succeeds in pulling trigger. There is a violent explosion and a large hole appears in_ George's _breeches._ _G.J._ (_calmly to the baffled_ Marmaduke). Bad luck! That's my cork one. I lost the original when I got this. [_Touches V.C. pinned on his breast._