MARGARET: I couldn’t have married him. But he was very strong, and good-looking ... and going back to the front. They knew what they were going back to, and they laughed. He was the first man younger than I was who told me that he loved me; and on his last night in England, as if he was my child, I wanted to give him everything he asked for. And he asked for me and--I was glad. GWEN: I’m glad you were. Did he stop at your flat? MARGARET: We went to an hotel. We had dinner in the West End. Across the little table--with a shaded light on it--I kept catching him looking at me.... One evening when nothing mattered but our happiness. Then he went back to France, and I went home and told my man--and my life smashed. GWEN: Didn’t he understand? MARGARET: Oh yes, he understood. We went to the Queen’s Hall the night I told him, and when we got home talked till five in the morning; it didn’t smash all at once--it just made a difference. GWEN: I don’t understand. MARGARET: Nor do I--altogether. _He_ had an affair soon afterwards. You see, he’d given up everything of that sort for me, and I didn’t ... so he didn’t ... it broke up our life together. Freedom’s a devastating thing ... a few hours I shall never forget, and a year of hell afterwards, and I’ve never really made up my mind whether I’m glad or sorry.... (_To FRANKIE_) Do you disapprove of me very much? FRANKIE: Disapprove? No. But I don’t think it’s right. GWEN (_a quick challenge_): What’s right? FRANKIE: When I marry I shall have kept myself for him, whoever he is. And I hope he will, too. MARGARET: Oh, my dear! GWEN (_alert_): Why did you say “Oh, my dear” like that? MARGARET: Another young man fell in love with me. (_She turns to FRANKIE with a smile._) I’m sorry! I know it sounds _dreadful_ saying them one after the other, quickly, like this! But there was a year of being lonely--desperately lonely. And it hurt the young man, too; so I let him take me away. [_A pause._ GWEN: ... Well? MARGARET (_to FRANKIE_): He was one of your ideal young men. FRANKIE: Yes? MARGARET: And not only innocent; ignorant. He knew his own needs, vaguely; not mine, at all. I suffered from his ignorance.... But he taught me something. GWEN: What? MARGARET: Why so many married women go on regarding love-making as horrid. GWEN: Why? MARGARET: They’re married to men who don’t know how to make love. You see, without gentleness and sensitiveness and consideration--and much that comes from knowledge, what ought to be complete harmony can be very disharmonious, what ought to be utterly satisfying to body and soul can be utterly nerve-racking and unsatisfactory.... Somebody said that a man who can’t make love is like an Orang-Utang playing the fiddle.... It wants learning--the fiddle. FRANKIE: It seems so horrid to make that part of it so important. MARGARET: I daresay it’s not so important if it’s right. It’s all-important if it’s wrong. GWEN: How?