[Harlequin has called to Clown and Pantaloon. And, like conspirators,
they stand there and most elaborately they weave a plot. It's a most
difficult plot to follow. It involves a dark night and tiptoes and a
signal given. It involves, too, a cloak and a skirt and a bonnet for
Clown; and this attracts him so much he can attend to little else.

ALICE. Do you guess what's going to happen? Uncle, they've forgotten the
lights. Oh, this is the bit I love.

UNCLE EDWARD. [In a hoarse whisper.] St! George!

[Suddenly on the little stage day becomes night. What had George to do
with it?

[In a hoarse whisper still.] Bring 'em round a bit ... the number two
steels.

[And the moon, obediently turning, floods the little stage. Indeed it
is pretty. Uncle Edward can't contain himself. And he has given it away
anyhow.

Romantic, isn't it? And just the colour moonlight ought to be.

[The music tells us this is real romance. Dark figures are flitting
among the trees. Who are they? Gelsomino, Harlequin, Pantaloon. The Man
of the World, wrapped dramatically in a great black cloak, arrives.
"Arrives" is poor. He approaches. Pantaloon totters down to him. "Wait,
and your love will come." He waits and his love comes, waddling most
amazingly and wrapped in the tablecloth. We are sure it's Clown, and
who wouldn't be? But the Man of the World--for a real Man of the