unaccountable people; and you know how you say "I can't think what she sees
in the man...." But a god can see ... and an artist. And Harlequin's a bit
of both. So when he comes along ... Uncle, the rest of it isn't a very nice
story. Will they mind?

UNCLE EDWARD. They? They'll like it all the better.

ALICE. Well, you see the husband being so dull, she wants somebody to take
her out and show her things and be attentive. And there's the Man of the
World. And things are getting rather serious. For Cousin Clown and Uncle
Pantaloon aren't any use. They're just stupid and friendly and nice, like
all one's country cousins. But just in time comes Harlequin-Mercury. He has
no wings left to his feet, because you wear off wings rather soon if you
wander about the world. And his wand hasn't any snakes left. It's just
painted white wood. And it's a good thing we've come to the jokes about the
sausages, because, now Harlequin's only a strolling player, he's sometimes
awfully hungry.

UNCLE EDWARD. Very true. Are they ready?

ALICE. I'll see.

[So she turns and sticks her head through the curtains.

Yes.

UNCLE EDWARD. Music.

[And the music begins again.