The scene is again COKESON'S room, at a few minutes to ten of a
March morning, two years later. The doors are all open.
SWEEDLE, now blessed with a sprouting moustache, is getting the
offices ready. He arranges papers on COKESON'S table; then goes
to a covered washstand, raises the lid, and looks at himself in
the mirror. While he is gazing his full RUTH HONEYWILL comes in
through the outer office and stands in the doorway. There seems
a kind of exultation and excitement behind her habitual
impassivity.
SWEEDLE. [Suddenly seeing her, and dropping the lid of the washstand
with a bang] Hello! It's you!
RUTH. Yes.
SWEEDLE. There's only me here! They don't waste their time hurrying
down in the morning. Why, it must be two years since we had the
pleasure of seeing you. [Nervously] What have you been doing with
yourself?
RUTH. [Sardonically] Living.
SWEEDLE. [Impressed] If you want to see him [he points to COKESON'S
chair], he'll be here directly--never misses--not much. [Delicately]
I hope our friend's back from the country. His time's been up these
three months, if I remember. [RUTH nods] I was awful sorry about
that. The governor made a mistake--if you ask me.
RUTH. He did.
SWEEDLE. He ought to have given him a chanst. And, I say, the judge
ought to ha' let him go after that. They've forgot what human
nature's like. Whereas we know. [RUTH gives him a honeyed smile]
SWEEDLE. They come down on you like a cartload of bricks, flatten
you out, and when you don't swell up again they complain of it. I
know 'em--seen a lot of that sort of thing in my time. [He shakes
his head in the plenitude of wisdom] Why, only the other day the
governor----
But COKESON has come in through the outer office; brisk with
east wind, and decidedly greyer.
COKESON. [Drawing off his coat and gloves] Why! it's you! [Then
motioning SWEEDLE out, and closing the door] Quite a stranger! Must
be two years. D'you want to see me? I can give you a minute. Sit
down! Family well?
RUTH. Yes. I'm not living where I was.
COKESON. [Eyeing her askance] I hope things are more comfortable at
home.
RUTH. I couldn't stay with Honeywill, after all.
COKESON. You haven't done anything rash, I hope. I should be sorry
if you'd done anything rash.
RUTH. I've kept the children with me.
COKESON. [Beginning to feel that things are not so jolly as ha had
hoped] Well, I'm glad to have seen you. You've not heard from the
young man, I suppose, since he came out?
RUTH. Yes, I ran across him yesterday.
COKESON. I hope he's well.
RUTH. [With sudden fierceness] He can't get anything to do. It's
dreadful to see him. He's just skin and bone.
COKESON. [With genuine concern] Dear me! I'm sorry to hear that.
[On his guard again] Didn't they find him a place when his time was
up?
RUTH. He was only there three weeks. It got out.
COKESON. I'm sure I don't know what I can do for you. I don't like
to be snubby.
RUTH. I can't bear his being like that.
COKESON. [Scanning her not unprosperous figure] I know his relations
aren't very forthy about him. Perhaps you can do something for him,
till he finds his feet.
RUTH. Not now. I could have--but not now.
COKESON. I don't understand.
RUTH. [Proudly] I've seen him again--that's all over.
COKESON. [Staring at her--disturbed] I'm a family man--I don't want
to hear anything unpleasant. Excuse me--I'm very busy.
RUTH. I'd have gone home to my people in the country long ago, but
they've never got over me marrying Honeywill. I never was waywise,
Mr. Cokeson, but I'm proud. I was only a girl, you see, when I
married him. I thought the world of him, of course... he used
to come travelling to our farm.
COKESON. [Regretfully] I did hope you'd have got on better, after
you saw me.
RUTH. He used me worse than ever. He couldn't break my nerve, but I
lost my health; and then he began knocking the children about. I
couldn't stand that. I wouldn't go back now, if he were dying.
COKESON. [Who has risen and is shifting about as though dodging a
stream of lava] We mustn't be violent, must we?
RUTH. [Smouldering] A man that can't behave better than that--
[There is silence]
COKESON. [Fascinated in spite of himself] Then there you were! And
what did you do then?
RUTH. [With a shrug] Tried the same as when I left him before...,
making skirts... cheap things. It was the best I could get, but I
never made more than ten shillings a week, buying my own cotton and
working all day; I hardly ever got to bed till past twelve. I kept
at it for nine months. [Fiercely] Well, I'm not fit for that; I
wasn't made for it. I'd rather die.
COKESON. My dear woman! We mustn't talk like that.
RUTH. It was starvation for the children too--after what they'd
always had. I soon got not to care. I used to be too tired. [She is
silent]
COKESON. [With fearful curiosity] Why, what happened then?
RUTH. [With a laugh] My employer happened then--he's happened ever
since.
COKESON. Dear! Oh dear! I never came across a thing like this.
RUTH. [Dully] He's treated me all right. But I've done with that.
[Suddenly her lips begin to quiver, and she hides them with the back
of her hand] I never thought I'd see him again, you see. It was just
a chance I met him by Hyde Park. We went in there and sat down, and
he told me all about himself. Oh! Mr. Cokeson, give him another
chance.
COKESON. [Greatly disturbed] Then you've both lost your livings!
What a horrible position!
RUTH. If he could only get here--where there's nothing to find out
about him!
COKESON. We can't have anything derogative to the firm.
RUTH. I've no one else to go to.
COKESON. I'll speak to the partners, but I don't think they'll take
him, under the circumstances. I don't really.
RUTH. He came with me; he's down there in the street. [She points to
the window.]
COKESON. [On his dignity] He shouldn't have done that until he's
sent for. [Then softening at the look on her face] We've got a
vacancy, as it happens, but I can't promise anything.
RUTH. It would be the saving of him.
COKESON. Well, I'll do what I can, but I'm not sanguine. Now tell
him that I don't want him till I see how things are. Leave your
address? [Repeating her] 83 Mullingar Street? [He notes it on
blotting-paper] Good-morning.
RUTH. Thank you.
She moves towards the door, turns as if to speak, but does not,
and goes away.
COKESON. [Wiping his head and forehead with a large white cotton
handkerchief] What a business! [Then looking amongst his papers, he
sounds his bell. SWEEDLE answers it]
COKESON. Was that young Richards coming here to-day after the
clerk's place?
SWEEDLE. Yes.
COKESON. Well, keep him in the air; I don't want to see him yet.
SWEEDLE. What shall I tell him, sir?
COKESON. [With asperity] invent something. Use your brains. Don't
stump him off altogether.
SWEEDLE. Shall I tell him that we've got illness, sir?
COKESON. No! Nothing untrue. Say I'm not here to-day.
SWEEDLE. Yes, sir. Keep him hankering?
COKESON. Exactly. And look here. You remember Falder? I may be
having him round to see me. Now, treat him like you'd have him treat
you in a similar position.
SWEEDLE. I naturally should do.
COKESON. That's right. When a man's down never hit 'im. 'Tisn't
necessary. Give him a hand up. That's a metaphor I recommend to you
in life. It's sound policy.
SWEEDLE. Do you think the governors will take him on again, sir?
COKESON. Can't say anything about that. [At the sound of some one
having entered the outer office] Who's there?
SWEEDLE. [Going to the door and looking] It's Falder, sir.
COKESON. [Vexed] Dear me! That's very naughty of her. Tell him to
call again. I don't want----
He breaks off as FALDER comes in. FALDER is thin, pale, older,
his eyes have grown more restless. His clothes are very worn
and loose.
SWEEDLE, nodding cheerfully, withdraws.
COKESON. Glad to see you. You're rather previous. [Trying to keep
things pleasant] Shake hands! She's striking while the iron's hot.
[He wipes his forehead] I don't blame her. She's anxious.
FALDER timidly takes COKESON's hand and glances towards the
partners' door.
COKESON. No--not yet! Sit down! [FALDER sits in the chair at the
aide of COKESON's table, on which he places his cap] Now you are
here I'd like you to give me a little account of yourself. [Looking
at him over his spectacles] How's your health?
FALDER. I'm alive, Mr. Cokeson.
COKESON. [Preoccupied] I'm glad to hear that. About this matter.
I don't like doing anything out of the ordinary; it's not my habit.
I'm a plain man, and I want everything smooth and straight. But I
promised your friend to speak to the partners, and I always keep my
word.
FALDER. I just want a chance, Mr. Cokeson. I've paid for that job a
thousand times and more. I have, sir. No one knows. They say I
weighed more when I came out than when I went in. They couldn't
weigh me here [he touches his head] or here [he touches--his heart,
and gives a sort of laugh]. Till last night I'd have thought there
was nothing in here at all.
COKESON. [Concerned] You've not got heart disease?
FALDER. Oh! they passed me sound enough.
COKESON. But they got you a place, didn't they?
FALSER. Yes; very good people, knew all about it--very kind to me.
I thought I was going to get on first rate. But one day, all of a
sudden, the other clerks got wind of it.... I couldn't stick it, Mr.
COKESON, I couldn't, sir.
COKESON. Easy, my dear fellow, easy!
FALDER. I had one small job after that, but it didn't last.
COKESON. How was that?
FALDER. It's no good deceiving you, Mr. Cokeson. The fact is, I
seem to be struggling against a thing that's all round me. I can't
explain it: it's as if I was in a net; as fast as I cut it here, it
grows up there. I didn't act as I ought to have, about references;
but what are you to do? You must have them. And that made me
afraid, and I left. In fact, I'm--I'm afraid all the time now.
He bows his head and leans dejectedly silent over the table.
COKESON. I feel for you--I do really. Aren't your sisters going to
do anything for you?
FALDER. One's in consumption. And the other----
COKESON. Ye...es. She told me her husband wasn't quite pleased with
you.
FALDER. When I went there--they were at supper--my sister wanted to
give me a kiss--I know. But he just looked at her, and said: "What
have you come for?" Well, I pocketed my pride and I said: "Aren't
you going to give me your hand, Jim? Cis is, I know," I said. "Look
here!" he said, "that's all very well, but we'd better come to an
understanding. I've been expecting you, and I've made up my mind.
I'll give you fifteen pounds to go to Canada with." "I see," I
said--"good riddance! No, thanks; keep your fifteen pounds."
Friendship's a queer thing when you've been where I have.
COKESON. I understand. Will you take the fifteen pound from me?
[Flustered, as FALDER regards him with a queer smile] Quite without
prejudice; I meant it kindly.
FALDER. I'm not allowed to leave the country.
COKESON. Oh! ye...es--ticket-of-leave? You aren't looking the
thing.
FALDER. I've slept in the Park three nights this week. The dawns
aren't all poetry there. But meeting her--I feel a different man
this morning. I've often thought the being fond of hers the best
thing about me; it's sacred, somehow--and yet it did for me. That's
queer, isn't it?
COKESON. I'm sure we're all very sorry for you.
FALDER. That's what I've found, Mr. Cokeson. Awfully sorry for me.
[With quiet bitterness] But it doesn't do to associate with
criminals!
COKESON. Come, come, it's no use calling yourself names. That never
did a man any good. Put a face on it.
FALDER. It's easy enough to put a face on it, sir, when you're
independent. Try it when you're down like me. They talk about
giving you your deserts. Well, I think I've had just a bit over.
COKESON. [Eyeing him askance over his spectacles] I hope they haven't
made a Socialist of you.
FALDER is suddenly still, as if brooding over his past self; he
utters a peculiar laugh.
COKESON. You must give them credit for the best intentions. Really
you must. Nobody wishes you harm, I'm sure.
FALDER. I believe that, Mr. Cokeson. Nobody wishes you harm, but
they down you all the same. This feeling--[He stares round him, as
though at something closing in] It's crushing me. [With sudden
impersonality] I know it is.
COKESON. [Horribly disturbed] There's nothing there! We must try
and take it quiet. I'm sure I've often had you in my prayers. Now
leave it to me. I'll use my gumption and take 'em when they're
jolly. [As he speaks the two partners come in]
COKESON [Rather disconcerted, but trying to put them all at ease]
I didn't expect you quite so soon. I've just been having a talk with
this young man. I think you'll remember him.
JAMES. [With a grave, keen look] Quite well. How are you, Falder?
WALTER. [Holding out his hand almost timidly] Very glad to see you
again, Falder.
FALDER. [Who has recovered his self-control, takes the hand] Thank
you, sir.
COKESON. Just a word, Mr. James. [To FALDER, pointing to the
clerks' office] You might go in there a minute. You know your way.
Our junior won't be coming this morning. His wife's just had a
little family.
FALDER, goes uncertainly out into the clerks' office.
COKESON. [Confidentially] I'm bound to tell you all about it. He's
quite penitent. But there's a prejudice against him. And you're not
seeing him to advantage this morning; he's under-nourished. It's
very trying to go without your dinner.
JAMES. Is that so, COKESON?
COKESON. I wanted to ask you. He's had his lesson. Now we know all
about him, and we want a clerk. There is a young fellow applying,
but I'm keeping him in the air.
JAMES. A gaol-bird in the office, COKESON? I don't see it.
WALTER. "The rolling of the chariot-wheels of Justice!" I've never
got that out of my head.
JAMES. I've nothing to reproach myself with in this affair. What's
he been doing since he came out?
COKESON. He's had one or two places, but he hasn't kept them. He's
sensitive--quite natural. Seems to fancy everybody's down on him.
JAMES. Bad sign. Don't like the fellow--never did from the first.
"Weak character"'s written all over him.
WALTER. I think we owe him a leg up.
JAMES. He brought it all on himself.
WALTER. The doctrine of full responsibility doesn't quite hold in
these days.
JAMES. [Rather grimly] You'll find it safer to hold it for all
that, my boy.
WALTER. For oneself, yes--not for other people, thanks.
JAMES. Well! I don't want to be hard.
COKESON. I'm glad to hear you say that. He seems to see something
[spreading his arms] round him. 'Tisn't healthy.
JAMES. What about that woman he was mixed up with? I saw some one
uncommonly like her outside as we came in.
COKESON. That! Well, I can't keep anything from you. He has met
her.
JAMES. Is she with her husband?
COKESON. No.
JAMES. Falder living with her, I suppose?
COKESON. [Desperately trying to retain the new-found jollity] I
don't know that of my own knowledge. 'Tisn't my business.
JAMES. It's our business, if we're going to engage him, COKESON.
COKESON. [Reluctantly] I ought to tell you, perhaps. I've had the
party here this morning.
JAMES. I thought so. [To WALTER] No, my dear boy, it won't do. Too
shady altogether!
COKESON. The two things together make it very awkward for you--I see
that.
WALTER. [Tentatively] I don't quite know what we have to do with
his private life.
JAMES. No, no! He must make a clean sheet of it, or he can't come
here.
WALTER. Poor devil!
COKESON. Will you--have him in? [And as JAMES nods] I think I can
get him to see reason.
JAMES. [Grimly] You can leave that to me, COKESON.
WALTER. [To JAMES, in a low voice, while COKESON is summoning
FALDER] His whole future may depend on what we do, dad.
FALDER comes in. He has pulled himself together, and presents a
steady front.
JAMES. Now look here, Falder. My son and I want to give you another
chance; but there are two things I must say to you. In the first
place: It's no good coming here as a victim. If you've any notion
that you've been unjustly treated--get rid of it. You can't play
fast and loose with morality and hope to go scot-free. If Society
didn't take care of itself, nobody would--the sooner you realise that
the better.
FALDER. Yes, sir; but--may I say something?
JAMES. Well?
FALDER. I had a lot of time to think it over in prison. [He stops]
COKESON. [Encouraging him] I'm sure you did.
FALDER. There were all sorts there. And what I mean, sir, is, that
if we'd been treated differently the first time, and put under
somebody that could look after us a bit, and not put in prison, not a
quarter of us would ever have got there.
JAMES. [Shaking his head] I'm afraid I've very grave doubts of that,
Falder.
FALDER. [With a gleam of malice] Yes, sir, so I found.
JAMES. My good fellow, don't forget that you began it.
FALDER. I never wanted to do wrong.
JAMES. Perhaps not. But you did.
FALDER. [With all the bitterness of his past suffering] It's knocked
me out of time. [Pulling himself up] That is, I mean, I'm not what
I was.
JAMES. This isn't encouraging for us, Falder.
COKESON. He's putting it awkwardly, Mr. James.
FALDER. [Throwing over his caution from the intensity of his
feeling] I mean it, Mr. Cokeson.
JAMES. Now, lay aside all those thoughts, Falder, and look to the
future.
FALDER. [Almost eagerly] Yes, sir, but you don't understand what
prison is. It's here it gets you.
He grips his chest.
COKESON. [In a whisper to James] I told you he wanted nourishment.
WALTER. Yes, but, my dear fellow, that'll pass away. Time's
merciful.
FALDER. [With his face twitching] I hope so, sir.
JAMES. [Much more gently] Now, my boy, what you've got to do is to
put all the past behind you and build yourself up a steady
reputation. And that brings me to the second thing. This woman you
were mixed up with you must give us your word, you know, to have done
with that. There's no chance of your keeping straight if you're
going to begin your future with such a relationship.
FALDER. [Looking from one to the other with a hunted expression] But
sir... but sir... it's the one thing I looked forward to
all that time. And she too... I couldn't find her before last
night.
During this and what follows COKESON becomes more and more
uneasy.
JAMES. This is painful, Falder. But you must see for yourself that
it's impossible for a firm like this to close its eyes to everything.
Give us this proof of your resolve to keep straight, and you can come
back--not otherwise.
FALDER. [After staring at JAMES, suddenly stiffens himself] I
couldn't give her up. I couldn't! Oh, sir!
I'm all she's got to look to. And I'm sure she's all I've got.
JAMES. I'm very sorry, Falder, but I must be firm. It's for the
benefit of you both in the long run. No good can come of this
connection. It was the cause of all your disaster.
FALDER. But sir, it means-having gone through all that-getting
broken up--my nerves are in an awful state--for nothing. I did it
for her.
JAMES. Come! If she's anything of a woman she'll see it for
herself. She won't want to drag you down further. If there were a
prospect of your being able to marry her--it might be another thing.
FALDER. It's not my fault, sir, that she couldn't get rid of him
--she would have if she could. That's been the whole trouble from
the beginning. [Looking suddenly at WALTER]... If anybody
would help her! It's only money wants now, I'm sure.
COKESON. [Breaking in, as WALTER hesitates, and is about to speak] I
don't think we need consider that--it's rather far-fetched.
FALDER. [To WALTER, appealing] He must have given her full cause
since; she could prove that he drove her to leave him.
WALTER. I'm inclined to do what you say, Falder, if it can be
managed.
FALDER. Oh, sir!
He goes to the window and looks down into the street.
COKESON. [Hurriedly] You don't take me, Mr. Walter. I have my
reasons.
FALDER. [From the window] She's down there, sir. Will you see her?
I can beckon to her from here.
WALTER hesitates, and looks from COKESON to JAMES.
JAMES. [With a sharp nod] Yes, let her come.
FALDER beckons from the window.
COKESON. [In a low fluster to JAMES and WALTER] No, Mr. James.
She's not been quite what she ought to ha' been, while this young
man's been away. She's lost her chance. We can't consult how to
swindle the Law.
FALDER has come from the window. The three men look at him in a
sort of awed silence.
FALDER. [With instinctive apprehension of some change--looking from
one to the other] There's been nothing between us, sir, to prevent
it.... What I said at the trial was true. And last night we
only just sat in the Park.
SWEEDLE comes in from the outer office.
COKESON. What is it?
SWEEDLE. Mrs. Honeywill. [There is silence]
JAMES. Show her in.
RUTH comes slowly in, and stands stoically with FALDER on one
side and the three men on the other. No one speaks. COKESON
turns to his table, bending over his papers as though the burden
of the situation were forcing him back into his accustomed
groove.
JAMES. [Sharply] Shut the door there. [SWEEDLE shuts the door]
We've asked you to come up because there are certain facts to be
faced in this matter. I understand you have only just met Falder
again.
RUTH. Yes--only yesterday.
JAMES. He's told us about himself, and we're very sorry for him.
I've promised to take him back here if he'll make a fresh start.
[Looking steadily at RUTH] This is a matter that requires courage,
ma'am.
RUTH, who is looking at FALDER, begins to twist her hands in front of
her as though prescient of disaster.
FALDER. Mr. Walter How is good enough to say that he'll help us to
get you a divorce.
RUTH flashes a startled glance at JAMES and WALTER.
JAMES. I don't think that's practicable, Falder.
FALDER. But, Sir----!
JAMES. [Steadily] Now, Mrs. Honeywill. You're fond of him.
RUTH. Yes, Sir; I love him.
She looks miserably at FALDER.
JAMES. Then you don't want to stand in his way, do you?
RUTH. [In a faint voice] I could take care of him.
JAMES. The best way you can take care of him will be to give him up.
FALDER. Nothing shall make me give you up. You can get a divorce.
There's been nothing between us, has there?
RUTH. [Mournfully shaking her head-without looking at him] No.
FALDER. We'll keep apart till it's over, sir; if you'll only help
us--we promise.
JAMES. [To RUTH] You see the thing plainly, don't you? You see
what I mean?
RUTH. [Just above a whisper] Yes.
COKESON. [To himself] There's a dear woman.
JAMES. The situation is impossible.
RUTH. Must I, Sir?
JAMES. [Forcing himself to look at her] I put it to you, ma'am. His
future is in your hands.
RUTH. [Miserably] I want to do the best for him.
JAMES. [A little huskily] That's right, that's right!
FALDER. I don't understand. You're not going to give me up--after
all this? There's something--[Starting forward to JAMES] Sir, I
swear solemnly there's been nothing between us.
JAMES. I believe you, Falder. Come, my lad, be as plucky as she is.
FALDER. Just now you were going to help us. [He starts at RUTH, who
is standing absolutely still; his face and hands twitch and quiver as
the truth dawns on him] What is it? You've not been--
WALTER. Father!
JAMES. [Hurriedly] There, there! That'll do, that'll do! I'll
give you your chance, Falder. Don't let me know what you do with
yourselves, that's all.
FALDER. [As if he has not heard] Ruth?
RUTH looks at him; and FALDER covers his face with his hands.
There is silence.
COKESON. [Suddenly] There's some one out there. [To RUTH] Go in
here. You'll feel better by yourself for a minute.
He points to the clerks' room and moves towards the outer
office. FALDER does not move. RUTH puts out her hand timidly.
He shrinks back from the touch. She turns and goes miserably
into the clerks' room. With a brusque movement he follows,
seizing her by the shoulder just inside the doorway. COKESON
shuts the door.
JAMES. [Pointing to the outer office] Get rid of that, whoever it
is.
SWEEDLE. [Opening the office door, in a scared voice]
Detective-Sergeant blister.
The detective enters, and closes the door behind him.
WISTER. Sorry to disturb you, sir. A clerk you had here, two years
and a half ago: I arrested him in, this room.
JAMES. What about him?
WISTER. I thought perhaps I might get his whereabouts from you.
[There is an awkward silence]
COKESON. [Pleasantly, coming to the rescue] We're not responsible
for his movements; you know that.
JAMES. What do you want with him?
WISTER. He's failed to report himself this last four weeks.
WALTER. How d'you mean?
WISTER. Ticket-of-leave won't be up for another six months, sir.
WALTER. Has he to keep in touch with the police till then?
WISTER. We're bound to know where he sleeps every night. I dare say
we shouldn't interfere, sir, even though he hasn't reported himself.
But we've just heard there's a serious matter of obtaining employment
with a forged reference. What with the two things together--we must
have him.
Again there is silence. WALTER and COKESON steal glances at
JAMES, who stands staring steadily at the detective.
COKESON. [Expansively] We're very busy at the moment. If you could
make it convenient to call again we might be able to tell you then.
JAMES. [Decisively] I'm a servant of the Law, but I dislike
peaching. In fact, I can't do such a thing. If you want him you
must find him without us.
As he speaks his eye falls on FALDER'S cap, still lying on the
table, and his face contracts.
WISTER. [Noting the gesture--quietly] Very good, sir. I ought to
warn you that, having broken the terms of his licence, he's still a
convict, and sheltering a convict.
JAMES. I shelter no one. But you mustn't come here and ask
questions which it's not my business to answer.
WISTER. [Dryly] I won't trouble you further then, gentlemen.
COKESON. I'm sorry we couldn't give you the information. You quite
understand, don't you? Good-morning!
WISTER turns to go, but instead of going to the door of the
outer office he goes to the door of the clerks' room.
COKESON. The other door.... the other door!
WISTER opens the clerks' door. RUTHS's voice is heard: "Oh,
do!" and FALDER'S: "I can't!" There is a little pause; then,
with sharp fright, RUTH says: "Who's that?"
WISTER has gone in.
The three men look aghast at the door.
WISTER [From within] Keep back, please!
He comes swiftly out with his arm twisted in FALDER'S. The
latter gives a white, staring look at the three men.
WALTER. Let him go this time, for God's sake!
WISTER. I couldn't take the responsibility, sir.
FALDER. [With a queer, desperate laugh] Good!
Flinging a look back at RUTH, he throws up his head, and goes
out through the outer office, half dragging WISTER after him.
WALTER. [With despair] That finishes him. It'll go on for ever
now.
SWEEDLE can be seen staring through the outer door. There are
sounds of footsteps descending the stone stairs; suddenly a dull
thud, a faint "My God!" in WISTER's voice.
JAMES. What's that?
SWEEDLE dashes forward. The door swings to behind him. There
is dead silence.
WALTER. [Starting forward to the inner room] The woman-she's
fainting!
He and COKESON support the fainting RUTH from the doorway of the
clerks' room.
COKESON. [Distracted] Here, my dear! There, there!
WALTER. Have you any brandy?
COKESON. I've got sherry.
WALTER. Get it, then. Quick!
He places RUTH in a chair--which JAMES has dragged forward.
COKESON. [With sherry] Here! It's good strong sherry. [They try to
force the sherry between her lips.]
There is the sound of feet, and they stop to listen.
The outer door is reopened--WISTER and SWEEDLE are seen carrying
some burden.
JAMES. [Hurrying forward] What is it?
They lay the burden doom in the outer office, out of sight, and
all but RUTH cluster round it, speaking in hushed voices.
WISTER. He jumped--neck's broken.
WALTER. Good God!
WISTER. He must have been mad to think he could give me the slip
like that. And what was it--just a few months!
WALTER. [Bitterly] Was that all?
JAMES. What a desperate thing! [Then, in a voice unlike his own]
Run for a doctor--you! [SWEEDLE rushes from the outer office] An
ambulance!
WISTER goes out. On RUTH's face an expression of fear and
horror has been seen growing, as if she dared not turn towards
the voices. She now rises and steals towards them.
WALTER. [Turning suddenly] Look!
The three men shrink back out of her way, one by one, into
COKESON'S room. RUTH drops on her knees by the body.
RUTH. [In a whisper] What is it? He's not breathing. [She
crouches over him] My dear! My pretty!
In the outer office doorway the figures of men am seen standing.
RUTH. [Leaping to her feet] No, no! No, no! He's dead!
[The figures of the men shrink back]
COKESON. [Stealing forward. In a hoarse voice] There, there, poor
dear woman!
At the sound behind her RUTH faces round at him.
COKESON. No one'll touch him now! Never again! He's safe with
gentle Jesus!
RUTH stands as though turned to stone in the doorway staring at
COKESON, who, bending humbly before her, holds out his hand as
one would to a lost dog.
The curtain falls.