MONSIEUR D’OR
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
=A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.= With portrait. Edition
limited to three hundred copies, printed from type, and a large paper
edition of thirty copies.
Regular Edition $ 4.00 _net._
Large Paper Edition 10.00 _net._
=EARLY REVIEWS OF ENGLISH POETS.= With Introduction and Notes.
Regular Edition $1.20 _net._
Library Edition 2.00 _net._
=THE NAME OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.= A Study in Orthography.
Regular Edition $1.00 _net._
MONSIEUR D’OR
A DRAMATIC FANTASY
BY
JOHN LOUIS HANEY
[Illustration: A black laurel wreath encircling a central torch with a
flame, tied at the base with a ribbon bow.]
PHILADELPHIA
THE EGERTON PRESS
1910
This edition is limited to two hundred and fifty copies printed from
type and numbered.
No. ——
Copyright, 1910
By JOHN LOUIS HANEY
All rights, including presentation and translation, are reserved.
Application concerning public performances should be made to
The Egerton Press, 934 North Eleventh Street, Philadelphia.
PRESS OF
THE NEW ERA PRINTING COMPANY
LANCASTER, PA.
TO
=My Parents=
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold,
Molten, graven, hammered, and rolled;
Heavy to get, and light to hold;
Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold,
Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled;
Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old
To the very verge of the churchyard mould;
Price of many a crime untold;
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Good or bad a thousand fold!
—Thomas Hood
THE CHARACTERS
The Prolog
ROBERT DORR
SIDNEY HASTINGS
JACK NORGATE
BILLY FANSHAWE
PERCY MIDDLETON
HAROLD WESTBROOK
Mrs. SARA KEENE
ELEANOR RICHMOND, her niece
MARIAN WINTHROP
MARGARET THURBER
ROSE LOWELL
GERTRUDE PASTON
Scene I
MONSIEUR D’OR
RAOUL LEHMANN
FRÉDÉRIC LEHMANN, his brother
M. BERTINE, their secretary
M. ALBERT
M. LORRAINE
ADRIENNE COURTEAUX
CÉLESTE BERGÈRE
M. FRÉMIET
Scene II
MONSIEUR D’OR
ADOLPHE LEMAIRE
JEAN MOREAU
HENRI VAUX
HÉLÈNE VAUX, his daughter
Mme. CYPRIENNE DACIER
Mme. LUCETTE CLARY
BAPTISTE, a servant
Scene III
MONSIEUR D’OR
SIR MORTIMER MUIRHEAD
Mr. GILBERT, his secretary
BARON GRAEFFLINGEN
Herr LOBEN, his secretary
MARQUIS PALLOT
COUNT ANDRIEV
CLAIRE LASALLE, a stenographer
Scene IV
MONSIEUR D’OR
Dr. MIRSKY
RAMANAND, an Oriental
CYRIL, a boy
EDITH PACKARD, a nurse
Epilog
ROBERT DORR
Mr. MATHEWS
ELEANOR RICHMOND
Mr. HANSON, her secretary
The forty characters may be distributed among thirteen players. See note
on page 10.
THE PROLOG
A terrace adjoining the Dorr Villa at Lenox.
SCENE I
The office of Lehmann Frères, St. Gallen.
SCENE II
The music room of the Chateau D’Or, near Versailles.
SCENE III
A private parlor in the Hotel Royal, Interlaken.
SCENE IV
A chamber in a Balkan palace.
THE EPILOG
A parlor in the Hotel Orient, Port Said.
Fifteen years elapse between the Prolog and the Epilog.
NOTE
The forty characters may be distributed among thirteen players as
follows:
Prol. Sc. I Sc. II Sc. III Sc. IV Epil.
DORR D’OR D’OR D’OR D’OR DORR
WESTBROOK R. LEHMANN LEMAIRE MUIRHEAD RAMANAND
HASTINGS F. LEHMANN MOREAU GILBERT MIRSKY HANSON
FANSHAWE BERTINE LOBEN MATHEWS
NORGATE ALBERT BAPTISTE PALLOT
MIDDLETON FRÉMIET ANDRIEV
LORRAINE VAUX GRAEFFLINGEN
MRS. KEENE
ELEANOR ADRIENNE HÉLÈNE CLAIRE EDITH ELEANOR
MARIAN CÉLESTE
MARGARET CYPRIENNE
GERTRUDE LUCETTE
ROSE CYRIL
MONSIEUR D’OR
THE PROLOG
[_A handsome terrace adjoining the ball room of the Dorr Villa. Wide
marble steps in the rear lead to a higher tesselated walk with marble
balustrades. As it is night there is only a dim vista of the beautiful
gardens beyond. On the right there is a similar approach by marble steps
to the higher level. The ball room is reached by steps on the left. Its
glass doors and deep windows are draped with exquisite lace curtains.
Palms and other exotic plants are placed appropriately about the
terrace; large, gaudy Japanese lanterns are strung overhead at various
points. At each side of the terrace there is, in front of a bank of
potted plants, a large marble bench provided with silk cushions. The
orchestra in the ball room is playing a delightful Viennese waltz as the
curtain rises. During the earlier part of the scene recurrent noise of
laughter and chatter is heard from the dancers and their shadows are
reflected on the curtains of the room. As the various couples emerge
from the ball room or enter from the rear they engage in mutual
conversation as they promenade without regard for the others. The
characters all suggest superabundant wealth and a marked air of
flippancy in the consciousness of their social preeminence. A few
moments after the rising of the curtain_ SIDNEY HASTINGS _and_ MARIAN
WINTHROP _enter from the ball room_.]
MARIAN. So the court granted her the custody of the children?
SIDNEY. And he is forbidden to marry again during her life time.
MARIAN. She gets alimony, of course?
SIDNEY. Fifty thousand a year.
MARIAN. Poor Mabel! She’ll spend that in three months. I really believe
the dear girl will have to make up with him or find some one else who is
willing to take her with the youngsters. There’s three of them, you
know, Sid—and large families are not fashionable now. She’ll never
manage to scrape along on fifty thousand. Why, he used to give her that
in jewels every year!
SIDNEY. I believe you’re right, Marian. It seems a bit hard, doesn’t it?
MARIAN. Mabel would have done better if she had gone to Reno. They’re
specialists out there, you know—they would have given her a square deal.
[_They pass up the steps at the right and return slowly by the upper
walk to the ball room. Meanwhile_ BILLY FANSHAWE _and_ MARGARET THURBER
_enter direct from the ball room_.]
BILLY. Yes, the whole story is in the New York papers this evening. Shot
himself through the mouth and didn’t live a minute. I felt sorry for the
poor devil! Did you know him?
MARGARET. I knew his wife—she was Susie Caxton—one of the Amherst
Caxtons. Lucky there’s no children. Why did he do it, Billy?
BILLY. I suppose he couldn’t stand the pace his particular Amherst
Caxton was setting for him. He was only a bank clerk, you know, and
trying to keep up with people who spent as much in a week as he earned
in a year.
MARGARET. I thought he had an important position at the bank.
BILLY. My dear Margaret, how innocent you are! His position was
important enough, but they didn’t pay him more than they had to. He
tried the stock-market to help him out and before he knew it he was
juggling the deposit slips like a professional crook. The warrant was
out for his arrest and he knew it. That’s why he turned the gun upon
himself.
MARGARET. Poor little Susie! She gave up Charlie Decker, who is worth at
least ten millions, to marry that man. I suppose we’ve seen the last of
her. [_During the latter part of the conversation_ PERCY MIDDLETON _and_
ROSE LOWELL _have entered from the ball room and have walked across the
back of the stage, so that they now pass_ BILLY _and_ MARGARET _at the
right and proceed along the front while the other two sit on the bench
at the right side and converse_.]
ROSE. You shouldn’t associate with that woman, Percy—she’s a notorious
character.
PERCY. She’s not so bad. You girls are simply jealous. Besides, there’s
always a lot of reporters and johnnies hanging around her dressing-room.
There’s no chance to get really intimate. She seems to think a lot of
me, though—you ought to hear her call me ‘mon cher Pairsee’—she’s not
strong on English, you know.
ROSE. I don’t know.
PERCY. Well, that’s why I’m telling you. The other night I said to her,
‘Natalie, your tongue can’t speak English, but your eyes can speak every
language there is in the world.’ [BILLY _and_ MARGARET _rise from the
bench and return to the ball room by the upper walk_.]
ROSE. That was rather neatly put, Percy.
PERCY. [_Flattered._] Wasn’t it? The reporters wanted to write it up for
the papers, but I called them off. Natalie doesn’t like notoriety. She’s
not such a bad one, Rose, when you get to know her. Of course, she likes
a bird and a bottle after the show and she gets a bit lively at times,
but she doesn’t lose her self-control. She’s a thoroughbred. She’s not
like that Margaret Thurber we passed just now. At the Decker dance last
week that girl just stowed away champagne till she fell off her chair.
Now Natalie would know better than that; she’s—
ROSE. See here, I don’t want to hear any more about that vulgar chorus
girl—
PERCY. Oh! you’re just jealous—like the rest of them. Maybe Natalie
wouldn’t get a fit if she saw me out here in the dark with you. I
believe she’d scratch your eyes out. She’s a spunky little filly—she’s a
real thoroughbred. You’ve got to treat her right. [_As they pass off
right to the garden_, JACK NORGATE _and_ GERTRUDE PASTON _stroll along
the rear terrace from the left and come down by the central steps_.]
GERTRUDE. There’s Rose Lowell with that silly Percy Middleton. I don’t
see how she can tolerate the fellow.
JACK. That’s no enigma. He’s worth three or four millions, whereas the
Lowells are not rich.
GERTRUDE. It’s cruel of you, dear, to say that. Rose isn’t the sort of
girl to marry for money.
JACK. Why, Gertie, she must marry for money, whether it’s cruel or not
to say so. I’m sorry there’s nothing more promising than Percy on her
matrimonial horizon. Shall we sit down a while? [_They take seats on the
bench at the right._]
GERTRUDE. He’s a disgusting creature, Jack. I wish the Dorrs wouldn’t
invite him to their affairs.
JACK. Have you heard of his escapade with Mrs. Vansant?
GERTRUDE. Ah! that impudent Vansant woman! What has she been doing to
Percy?
JACK. They gave her charge of a booth at the charity bazaar and when
trade grew slack she announced that she would auction off a dozen kisses
among the men. Just then Percy came along and bid fifty dollars for the
entire dozen. That silenced the rest and she had to accept Percy’s bid.
He promptly paid the money, took one kiss, and notified her that he
reserved the rest for future delivery.
GERTRUDE. What did Mrs. Vansant say to that?
JACK. Oh! she was game! She told Percy that she was ready whenever he
was. I presume he will collect those kisses one at a time whenever he
can make himself sufficiently conspicuous in doing it.
GERTRUDE. How disgusting! Buying and selling kisses!
JACK. You’re right, dearest! Kisses were not meant to be sold. [_He
looks around towards the ball room to make sure that they are alone,
then kisses her passionately. Meanwhile_ PERCY _and_ ROSE _have
re-entered from the right just in time for the tender scene. It is too
late to retreat, so they tiptoe awkwardly and hurriedly across the back
of the terrace to the ball room._]
GERTRUDE. [_Freeing herself._] How imprudent, Jack. Somebody might have
seen us.
JACK. Now don’t scold me, Gertie. I made sure that we were alone;
besides, I don’t often get a chance—
GERTRUDE. [_Curtly._] Won’t you take me back to the ball room? [_They
rise and walk towards the left._]
JACK. You’re not angry, I hope? We were talking of kisses, dear, and I
simply couldn’t help it.
GERTRUDE. We were talking of Percy Middleton’s buying the kisses of that
odious grass-widow.
JACK. I’ll admit that I did wrong, and I’m very, very sorry. Does that
satisfy you? [_After a pause._] Now let’s kiss and make up.
GERTRUDE. [_Smiling._] Another kiss! Jack, you’re incorrigible. [_She
kisses him tenderly._] You dear boy! Will it always be like this?
JACK. [_Taking her in his arms._] Always—forever—and so on for eternity.
We shall be all in all to each other and the rest of the world will be
as nothing to us. Just you and I—we two alone—
GERTRUDE. Dear Jack! I am so happy! [_They enter the ball room. From the
rear_ HAROLD WESTBROOK _and_ ELEANOR RICHMOND _come slowly down the
central steps; her demeanor is serious, his is somewhat depressed. They
seat themselves on the bench at the left side._]
ELEANOR. How soon do you leave?
HAROLD. In a few days. The ranch is a large one and I’m needed out
there. I had no intention of asking you so soon, Eleanor—I’m afraid
fortune has been against me, but it was my last chance to see you
alone—I had to speak!
ELEANOR. [_With sympathy._] I am heartily sorry it cannot be otherwise,
but our decisions in the real crises of life seem often not to rest with
ourselves.
HAROLD. Have you no hope to offer me? No chance that some day you may be
willing to join me in the West, to work out our destinies together in
the great world beyond the plains?
ELEANOR. No, I feel sure it can never be—but I hope we shall remain good
friends. I want to hear from you, Harold, and I shall pray for your
happiness in your new home. I shall always remember that you have paid
me the sincerest tribute that a true man can offer a woman. You have put
a consecrated seal upon our friendship. No matter what our lot may be in
the days to come, we must never forget this night.
HAROLD. Heaven knows, I shall never forget it. There is consolation in
the thought that you are not going entirely out of my life. Your
kindness has brought a soothing calm over my great grief. I have no
right to ask if there is another to whom you have given your heart, but
Heaven has indeed blessed that man.
ELEANOR. Heaven has blessed every man and every woman who has known true
love. If our human frailty is such that we can never comprehend the full
measure of that blessing, we should at least be thankful for whatever
glimpse of the divine vision is granted us.
HAROLD. You know best, Eleanor—your soul speaks with a clearer insight
than mine. I shall abide by your decision—and I shall worship you till
the end.
ELEANOR. Don’t say that, Harold—you will meet some one else—
HAROLD. [_Softly, but with conviction._] No, there will never be any one
else. [_They sit in silence for a few moments. The music stops._ HAROLD
_takes her hand and kisses it reverently. They rise and walk silently
into the ball room._ BILLY FANSHAWE, JACK NORGATE _and_ SIDNEY HASTINGS
_stroll in leisurely at the centre from the terrace behind the ball
room_.]
JACK. [_Looking after them._] Harold Westbrook has been very attentive
to Miss Richmond all evening.
BILLY. He’s wasting his time in that campaign. I’ll back Bobbie Dorr for
any amount to win her against the field. [SIDNEY _looks after the
retreating figures and says nothing_.] What do you think of it, Sid?
SIDNEY. Miss Richmond is altogether too fine a girl for Bobbie
Dorr—that’s my thought. [_He offers a cigarette to_ JACK, _who accepts,
then to_ BILLY.] Smoke, Billy?
BILLY. No thanks! I came out for some fresh air. Besides, smoking spoils
my appetite. I’m going to make another raid on the collation pretty
soon. It’s excellent stuff. I’ve had a couple of lobster cutlets, some
sweet breads and two of the nicest soft crabs I ever ate. The Dorrs
certainly know how to do things.
SIDNEY. [_Bitterly._] Who wouldn’t know how to do things with the income
of forty-odd millions at one’s disposal?
BILLY. Forty-odd millions! [_Whistles._] Forty-odd! Why, I’d be
satisfied with the odd! [_Explaining._] It might be seven or nine, you
know. [_In a lower voice._] I say, is that correct? Is it as much as
that?
JACK. I don’t believe that old man Dorr gathered so much out of his
Nevada mines. Of course, he piled up a lot of money, but—
SIDNEY. I grant you, there were no forty millions in his silver mines,
but you are evidently not aware of his other interests that paid him
enormously though his name was never associated with them. You may
remember that no inventory was filed by the executors—but Simpson, who
was chief counsel for the estate, told me a few things.
BILLY. [_Curiously._] What did he say, Sid?
SIDNEY. He mentioned substantial shareholdings in the Kimberley diamond
fields, in the Swiss lace and embroidery industries, in breakfast foods,
railroads, waterpower companies, automobile factories, tobacco, oil,
sugar. [_Savagely._] I declare that when Simpson got through with his
catalogue of Dorr’s interests I felt convinced that there was hardly a
human creature in civilization who didn’t pay tribute in some form to
that old octopus.
JACK. [_Looking reflectively at his cigarette._] And even the tobacco we
are smoking! Rather lucky we know the Dorrs, eh? We can get back some of
our tribute when we gather here as their guests.
BILLY. Bobbie Dorr and his aunt are certainly making the income on the
forty-odd millions circulate with startling vivacity. I’m willing to
help them. Won’t you boys come in and get another bite of something to
eat?
JACK. No, thanks.
SIDNEY. We’ll finish our cigarettes first.
BILLY. Pity you fellows smoke so much—it spoils your appetite. Well, I’m
off for another lobster cutlet and a sweetbread or two—[_He goes toward
left._] and I shall certainly have another of those delicious soft
crabs. [_Exit left._]
SIDNEY. I envy a man who can enjoy material existence as Billy does.
Why, he’s a personified stomach. I believe he’d sell his soul for a
salad!
JACK. [_Laughing._] Not much! Billy would make a better deal than that.
He would demand at least a well-selected dinner with appropriate
wines—then he might feel satisfied that he had made a real bargain.
SIDNEY. He’s a sterling good fellow just the same—I’m glad to number him
among my friends. I need a cheerful spirit like Billy about me
occasionally—I am apt to grow bitter when I let my thoughts dwell on
such men as Bobbie Dorr.
JACK. I don’t see why you should feel that way about Bobbie. Of course,
he’s a child of fortune. With his good looks, his wealth, and his fair
allotment of brains he is bound to play a conspicuous part in our social
life.
SIDNEY. You know, Jack, I’m fond of growling at times and just now I’m
not above criticizing a man who is virtually my host. There’s something
I don’t like about Bobbie Dorr. I don’t envy him his great wealth nor
his social triumphs, but that insufferable air of presumption I cannot
tolerate. What was his grandfather when he started for the West half a
century ago?
JACK. Nobody in particular, I suppose.
SIDNEY. Josiah Dorr was a strong, keen-witted Yankee with no capital
except his good health and his persistent optimism. He knocked about for
a good many years before he made that lucky strike in Nevada.
JACK. And then he married and lived unhappily ever after.
SIDNEY. Not at all! Dorr married while he was still poor and with his
usual luck chose a wife who was just the right sort for him—a woman of
no pretensions, but of sound common sense; and their married life was
happy enough until the children grew up.
JACK. Bobbie’s father and his aunt Martha?
SIDNEY. Exactly. The lamented Josiah, Jr., and [_Pointing toward the
ball room._] our charming hostess. Simpson told me that young Josiah was
for many years a thorn in the flesh of his parents. He seemed to
progress from one escapade to another till he crowned his list of
indiscretions by marrying a third-rate actress whose pretty face was her
only recommendation for public attention.
JACK. I didn’t know that Bobbie’s mother was an actress.
SIDNEY. Neither did the public, though she tried hard enough to make
them think so. Of course, she gave up the stage when she became Mrs.
Josiah, Jr. She probably expected to try her histrionic talent in
melting the heart of the stern parent—but old Dorr didn’t give her a
chance. He never laid eyes on her!
JACK. Not even after Bobbie was born? That frequently makes a
difference!
SIDNEY. Old Dorr saw nothing of Bobbie till both Josiah, Jr. and his
actress-wife were dead. Then Aunt Martha took charge of Bobbie and the
boy grew up under her care. After that nothing was too good for the hope
of the family. They took him to Lausanne for his education, gave him a
thoroughly cosmopolitan training, topped off with a few semesters at
Heidelberg. He speaks four languages—but I don’t believe he has been
accused of enriching the world’s store of thought in any of them. Behold
to-night the finished product, capering in yonder ball room! When he
reaches his twenty-fifth birthday a few weeks hence he will be the happy
possessor of some forty millions.
JACK. A fellow has little excuse for being anything but the most decent
sort of chap under such conditions. Fate has been unusually kind to
Bobbie Dorr.
SIDNEY. He’s no silly offspring of superabundant wealth—Bobbie’s a
capital fellow in many respects, but I can’t quite overlook his
patronizing air, his superb confidence in the power of his riches. That
sort of thing is pardonable in a man who has created the wealth, who has
wrested it from the unyielding earth by the sweat of his brow or has won
it by the exercise of his superior wit, but it takes little genius to
inherit another man’s money.
JACK. Here he comes, Sid; we’re in for a quick change of subject.
[_Louder._] In my opinion, these gardens are among the most attractive
at Lenox. There’s that fine row of Lombardy poplars—[ROBERT DORR _enters
from the ball room. His evening attire is beyond criticism save for the
fact that he wears large gold studs in his shirt, a heavy gold fob and
several conspicuously large rings._]
DORR. Would anybody believe it? A room full of charming girls, and you
two solemn philosophers out here in the dark discussing the Lombardy
poplars. Can you find nothing better to talk about?
SIDNEY. I’m sure we’re both booked for every dance on the list. It’s a
breath of fresh air we’re after now.
DORR. Meanwhile the ladies are commenting upon your ungallant
disappearance; but you cannot elude them long. Billy Fanshawe is
bringing out a small party to view the lower gardens. Perhaps such a
trip would appeal to you?
JACK. It’s a lark! I wonder how they ever got Billy away from the
lobster cutlets and the soft crabs. [_Enter_ BILLY _left, followed by_
MRS. KEENE, MARIAN, GERTRUDE, MARGARET _and_ ROSE.]
BILLY. [_Officiously, from the top step._] All in line for a personally
conducted tour around the celebrated Dorr gardens. The small and select
party will be carefully chaperoned by Mrs. Keene and will be under the
immediate direction of Mr. William Fanshawe, the well-known cicerone,
who will explain all points of interest.
JACK. Bully, old man! You’re as impressive as the prospectus of a Cook’s
tour.
MRS. KEENE. Come on, girls. [_They descend to the terrace._] Why, Mr.
Norgate and Mr. Hastings! I have been wondering what had become of you.
SIDNEY. We just stepped out to admire the garden and we now crave
permission to join your small and select party.
MARIAN. I think they’re horrid in coming out here to smoke and then to
pretend they were admiring the garden. I move that we refuse them
permission to join our party. All in favor say ‘aye.’
THE GIRLS. [_In chorus._] Aye!
MARIAN. It is carried. Mr. Hastings and Mr. Norgate are not permitted to
join us.
SIDNEY. Pardon me, Miss Winthrop, you are not parliamentary. You put
your own motion—you even forgot to wait till some one seconded it.
MARIAN. What was the use? I knew they were all in favor of it.
SIDNEY. You ought to be in Congress—they need girls like you. But
seriously, do you mean to say we may not join you?
GERTRUDE. Yes, and it serves you right, too!
BILLY. Hold on! I want to amend that resolution. If you girls don’t
mind, I should like to have Jack Norgate along. He knows the names of
the trees and shrubs better than I do.
MARGARET. What! better than the well-known cicerone?
BILLY. I regret to say he does. In fact, I might make a mess of it
without him.
MARIAN. Shall we relent, Mrs. Keene?
MRS. KEENE. I suppose so, though you are adding to my responsibilities
as chaperone. [BILLY _mounts the marble railing and detaches one of the
Japanese lanterns_.]
ROSE. But only Mr. Norgate—not Mr. Hastings. He has been too sarcastic.
SIDNEY. Ladies, I am overwhelmed with the sense of my shortcomings. I
spare you the need of further deliberation by admitting that I am
unworthy of your company.
GERTRUDE. How pathetic! I believe he’s glad we don’t want him!
MARGARET. Mr. Dorr, won’t you join us?
DORR. Thank you—I think I shall try to entertain Mr. Hastings during
your absence.
MARIAN. He ought to be left by himself.
DORR. I should hate to leave him in such bad company. I want to try
moral suasion on him.
BILLY. I hope he survives. [_Holds up the lantern._] Ladies, are you
ready?
MRS. KEENE. We shall surely need more light. It must be very dark at the
foot of the garden.
BILLY. One’s enough. Besides, if we had more, you might get confused and
follow some other lantern instead of mine.
DORR. Don’t forget to show the ladies the sun-dial.
ROSE. Oh! a sun-dial! Isn’t that romantic!
SIDNEY. Especially at this time of night.
DORR. It’s a quaint old dial that was brought over from Italy many years
ago.
BILLY. [_Whispers to_ DORR.] By the way, Bobbie, what does that Italian
motto on the sun-dial mean? I always forget it.
DORR. ‘Time will reveal all things.’
BILLY. Thanks. That helps me over one difficulty at least. Come on,
ladies. We’re now under way! [_He heads the procession off right,
followed by_ MRS. KEENE _and the girls. The latter speak almost
simultaneously as they leave._]
MARIAN. _Au revoir!_ I hope you’ll enjoy that moral suasion, Mr.
Hastings!
ROSE. Don’t spare him, Mr. Dorr!
GERTRUDE. I hope you will profit by it, Mr. Hastings!
MARGARET. You are too self-sacrificing, Mr. Dorr! [_They go off._]
SIDNEY. [_Laughing._] In such charming creatures as these rests most of
our happiness in life. I suppose I ought to be in a penitent mood—they
will all be ready to forgive me when I dance with them later on. [_He
offers_ DORR _a cigarette_.] Smoke, Dorr?
DORR. [_Takes cigarette._] Thanks. [_After a pause._] Do you know,
Hastings, the women seem to be more or less afraid of you? I’ve noticed
it many times.
SIDNEY. The sex has evidently little respect for my cynical philosophy.
It’s a pleasure to toss a choice morsel of flippancy at them and watch
them gasp.
DORR. [_Reflectively._] They’re a life-long study for the keenest man.
How splendidly they play their parts! Every woman’s an actress at heart.
[_Pointing to the garden._] There is a group of apparently ingenuous,
simple-hearted young creatures alive to the pleasure of the moment and
intent upon enjoying existence—yet I’ll wager that in each feminine mind
there are deep-laid schemes beyond your detection or mine.
SIDNEY. We men are at a disadvantage because we have no adequate weapon
to match theirs—and the laws of common courtesy render us helpless
before their cleverly concealed advances. To make matters worse, each
fair antagonist plans her campaign in her own individual manner—woe to
the presumptuous man who tries to generalize their methods. No two of
them will act precisely alike in effecting their ends.
DORR. They’re all alike in one thing, Hastings.
SIDNEY. What’s that?
DORR. Their respect for wealth! They may be as individual as you please;
but exhibit your pile of gold—the talisman that puts the luxurious gowns
upon their backs and the gleaming jewels about their persons—and you’ll
find them all ready to purr like a lot of kittens over a bowl of warm
milk!
SIDNEY. See here, Dorr, I thought I was a bit of a cynic myself, but I
never quite believed that. You don’t mean to say that a woman cannot
rise above a cringing regard for mere material wealth?
DORR. I mean just that; no woman—and no man either, for that matter. It
was long before our time that a famous statesman declared that every man
had his price—and I don’t believe he had any intention of ignoring woman
when he said it.
SIDNEY. [_Seriously._] Well, if you really feel that way about it, I
must insist that you are far more in need of moral suasion than I am. We
two are very different, Dorr, in one respect.
DORR. Yes?
SIDNEY. If you will pardon my saying so, I flash an occasional cynicism
upon the ladies that puts them on their guard and marks me as a person
to be treated with caution. You retain their good opinion by an outward
show of courtesy and deference, yet in your heart you entertain
sentiments that make it impossible for you to respect a single human
creature.
DORR. We’re quite different in another respect, Hastings. You light upon
a thing of this sort and brood over it until it spoils your good nature.
I take it for granted that we are all corruptible and that none can
stand the absolute tests of integrity, but I don’t worry about it. This
is a good enough world if one has the power to command its good things.
When it comes to testing the power of its talisman [_He draws a few gold
coins from his pocket and jingles them._] I must affirm that those who
have tried its virtues are, after all, the best judges of its merits.
[SIDNEY _tosses away his cigarette with a gesture of disgust_.] What’s
the matter?
SIDNEY. The tobacco was beginning to taste bad; I have smoked enough,
anyhow. [_He rises and gazes down into the garden._ DORR _hesitates for
a moment, then crosses to him._]
DORR. Evidently you find my views very shocking. Somehow I expected you
to agree with me.
SIDNEY. I presume I am like most of my kind—when I find a man more
cynical than myself I conclude that it is time to reform my philosophy
of life. [_After a pause._] Bobbie Dorr, when you say that you believe
all men and women bow to the power of wealth, do you make no
reservations—no exceptions?
DORR. I make no exceptions—not even myself! If I were a poor man, I
should be as corruptible as the rest. There are no exceptions!
SIDNEY. [_Slowly._] Not even such a girl as—Eleanor Richmond?
DORR. [_Annoyed._] Why should you mention Miss Richmond in this
connection?
SIDNEY. Pardon me—because I believe that you care more about her than
you do about most girls. I know you admire her; I don’t hesitate to say
that I regard her as the embodiment of all that is lovable in woman. I
wondered whether you were willing to class her with the rest of your
mercenary herd—that is all.
DORR. [_With constraint._] Miss Richmond has always enjoyed all the
luxuries that wealth can supply. Where gold has nothing to offer it
cannot be expected to corrupt. I should prefer to discuss this question
in the abstract without considering its bearing upon Miss Richmond, or
upon any one else, for that matter. [_Shrieks are heard from the
garden._ SIDNEY _crosses to the right_.]
SIDNEY. Something has happened to Mrs. Keene’s party!
DORR. [_Peering off right._] They are coming up the path. Their lantern
is extinguished! Billy’s personally conducted tour seems to have ended
in a fizzle.
SIDNEY. [_Looking towards the left._] Those shrieks were evidently heard
in the ball room. Miss Richmond is coming out. [ELEANOR _enters with an
alarmed look. Dorr crosses to her._]
ELEANOR. What is it, Bobbie? I thought I heard some one crying from the
garden.
DORR. You undoubtedly did. Billy Fanshawe has been trying to guide Mrs.
Keene and a party of the girls about the place and he has evidently come
to grief. We shall know in a moment.
ELEANOR. You don’t suppose that anything serious has happened?
SIDNEY. It’s hardly likely—Jack Norgate is with them. [_Confused voices
and exclamations off right, drawing nearer._]
DORR. [_Looking off._] This way! Watch out for that step! [_Another
shriek and exclamations. The girls tumble in hastily in couples.
Finally_ BILLY _and_ JACK _supporting_ MRS. KEENE _between them_.]
ELEANOR. Why, what has happened? [_The girls assist each other in
smoothing their ruffled hair and gowns. The men escort_ MRS. KEENE _to
the right bench, where she gasps for breath_.]
MARIAN. Billy Fanshawe was showing us around the garden—and everything
was so beautiful! We had just reached the sun-dial and Billy raised his
lantern to read the curious Italian inscription when a sudden gust of
wind blew out the light—
GERTRUDE. And we were left in the dark—it was pitch dark, and the boys
had no matches!
MRS. KEENE. [_Dramatically._] There was no sudden gust of wind! Mr.
Norgate deliberately blew out the light. I never experienced anything so
outrageous!
JACK. My dear Mrs. Keene—I must protest. I was simply leaning over
Billy’s shoulder to see the inscription. I was just about to read off
the Italian words when I suddenly found myself in total darkness.
SIDNEY. Perhaps your Italian pronunciation put out the light.
MRS. KEENE. [_Severely._] Sidney Hastings, this is no matter for
jesting. The worst is yet to come! [_The girls look at each other with
assumed surprise._]
ROSE. What do you mean?
MRS. KEENE. I mean that after that light went out the behavior of those
young men was disgraceful. There was hugging and kissing all about me!
MARGARET. Oh! Mrs. Keene! How can you say such a thing? Of course, we
all uttered exclamations of surprise.
MRS. KEENE. You certainly did—and several of you young ladies also said
‘stop’! [_The girls look at one another._]
BILLY. [_Slowly._] I suppose Jack and I are disgraced forever, Mrs.
Keene, if you’re going to believe that about us. I say it’s unkind.
MRS. KEENE. [_Witheringly._] There is just one thing I’d like to find
out.
JACK. [_Innocently._] What is it?
MRS. KEENE. Which of you two young men put his arm around _my_ waist—by
mistake, of course! [JACK _and_ BILLY _look foolishly at each other. The
rest chuckle wherever_ MRS. KEENE _cannot see them_.]
MARIAN. [_To the rescue._] I believe I put my arm around your waist—I
was very much frightened.
MRS. KEENE. [_With sarcasm._] I dare say you girls were so much
frightened that you all had your arms about each other’s waists; and our
two gallant escorts—I suppose they will also insist that they embraced
each other for mutual protection.
DORR. I think you might make some allowance, Mrs. Keene. The boys were
probably doing their best to keep the party close together.
MRS. KEENE. The party was close enough, I assure you. I’m glad it’s all
over. No more garden trips for me in the dark, especially when there are
irresponsible young men in the party. [_She rises and crosses to the
left._] You girls had better come inside—the dancing will go on in a few
moments.
ROSE. I’m so sorry about the sun-dial. I scarcely had a look at it—I was
so anxious to see it.
GERTRUDE. We couldn’t even read the Italian motto. What was it, Billy?
BILLY. The exact Italian words have slipped my memory, but they
meant—let me see—they meant—
ELEANOR. ‘Time will reveal all things.’ [_Soft waltz music begins in the
ball room._]
MRS. KEENE. A very good motto, Mr. Fanshawe. Perhaps some day time will
reveal how that light went out! Come, girls, the music has begun. [_They
enter the ball room in groups_, DORR _and_ ELEANOR _in the rear. They
detach themselves from the rest._]
DORR. [_Softly._] The next dance is mine, Eleanor. Shall we not stay out
here for a few moments?
ELEANOR. Yes, if you wish. [_He leads her to the bench at the right._]
DORR. I have been eager all evening to have a few words with you apart
from that restless whirl inside—just we two alone, with our little
secret!
ELEANOR. You silly boy! Be careful you don’t betray us. [_Looks toward
the garden._] How delightful it is out here in the open! There _is_ a
slight breeze. Bobbie, do you believe Aunt Sara was right in declaring
that the boys put out that light?
DORR. Certainly. You heard Gertrude Paston say the boys had no matches
to re-light the lantern. Well, Jack was out here smoking with Hastings
before he joined your aunt’s party.
ELEANOR. Of course, Gertrude and Jack are rather fond of each other—
DORR. I don’t blame him for not finding his matches.
ELEANOR. You know I didn’t mean that—I don’t believe Jack would do such
a thing! You wouldn’t, Bobbie?
DORR. Not in their bungling fashion, perhaps—but there’s no telling what
a fellow wouldn’t do for a few golden moments with a girl he cared for.
I grant that if there’s a bevy of girls about, he may possibly hug the
wrong one—he may even embrace the chaperone, eh? [_He laughs softly._]
ELEANOR. Don’t say such things, Bobbie. You shouldn’t talk so
flippantly.
DORR. It’s true, isn’t it? In spite of their apparent protests, there
wasn’t one in that party who regretted the little episode at the
sun-dial—except your aunt, of course, and she protested mainly on behalf
of outraged social decorum. One can hardly help being flippant about
such women!
ELEANOR. Bobbie!
DORR. I know—she’s your aunt—that’s the best I can say for her; she
doesn’t deserve the honor. But after all, why should we bother about
these people? We can be happy out here—with our secret. The time will be
short enough. Who has the next dance?
ELEANOR. [_Looking at the card._] Harold Westbrook.
DORR. He won’t be long in claiming you. I can’t help feeling decidedly
jealous when I see some one else swinging you about the floor. [_He
takes her hand._] But soon I shall make them all envious forever—soon
our little secret will no longer be our own. Within two months my
grandfather’s fortune passes into my hands, and then—
ELEANOR. Then you will be a very wealthy man, Bobbie, but your fortune
will carry serious responsibilities with it. You can find better things
to do than trying to make the other boys envious of you.
DORR. They must be envious when they learn that you are mine, when they
see you resplendent as a queen, dazzling from head to foot; they’ll no
longer sneer at my wealth—they will realize what it has achieved for me!
ELEANOR. [_Withdrawing her hand._] What your wealth has achieved for
you! You believe that your grandfather’s money makes a difference?
DORR. Why not? If I were a poor man, I wouldn’t ask a girl I loved to
share my poverty and thus spoil her own chance of happiness; but if I
can give my wife everything that heart can desire, why shouldn’t it make
a difference?
ELEANOR. [_Reflectively._] There is one great happiness that is denied
to the rich girl—the happiness that comes to the self-sacrificing wife
who helps her husband in his struggle with the world, who stands at his
side offering aid and encouragement until together they forge their way
upward to the heights of success—a success that both can cherish as a
result of mutual effort.
DORR. That’s all mere story-book sentimentality. Let a poor husband and
his self-sacrificing wife start out together in a life of poverty, and
ten to one he’s ashamed of her when he has made his fortune—if he ever
does. The newspapers are full of such instances. Don’t cast a romantic
glamor over a state of affairs that would be extremely unpleasant in
real life. You wouldn’t be the sort of girl for such a career!
ELEANOR. [_With spirit._] A true woman finds her happiness with the man
she loves, whether rich or poor; she does not find it in a mere riot of
gold!
DORR. But the gold helps! The gold makes life pleasant—it gives us what
we desire. [_She turns away._] Why, Eleanor, you’re not going to let
this spoil things? Remember our secret!
ELEANOR. Bobbie—[_A pause._] We can no longer—
DORR. You’re not going to throw me over for a mere difference of
opinion? We have our lives before us and everything to live for—
ELEANOR. Yes, we have everything—except spiritual kinship. I’m sorry,
Bobbie—heartily sorry, but I’m also thankful I found that out in time.
[_The music ceases._]
DORR. The dance is over! Westbrook will be here in a moment to claim
you. Will you let it end in this way?
ELEANOR. [_Rising._] I cannot hope that you will understand how
distressed I am, but I want to say just one thing, Bobbie—to-night seems
to mark a turning point in our lives. I trust it is for the best.
Whatever happens hereafter, I want you to remember the motto on your old
Italian sun-dial—
DORR. [_Mechanically._] ‘Time will reveal all things.’
ELEANOR. Yes. We shall both grow older and perhaps we shall see with a
clearer vision than now. I shall not forget—[HAROLD _enters hastily from
the ball room_.]
HAROLD. Ah, Miss Richmond, you are here. The next dance is mine, I
believe?
ELEANOR. [_Taking his arm._] Yes, Mr. Westbrook. Are you coming in,
Bobbie?
DORR. Not now. [_As they pass up the steps left, he deliberately lights
a cigarette._] ‘Time will reveal all things.’—I hope it will; then we’ll
see if I’m not right. [_Taking a few gold coins from his pocket he
tosses them in his palm._] Now, my golden friends, you, at least, will
be true to me! I shall rely upon you to show her—her and all the rest of
them your wonderful power! [_He looks toward the ball room as the dance
music resumes and the curtain descends._]
SCENE I
[_The office of Lehmann Frères in their factory at St. Gallen. It is
furnished in a manner appropriate to a prosperous business concern. In
the centre is a large rectangular table with several chairs. At the left
is a low flat desk with papers, telephone and chair. Close to the wall
behind the desk is a telephone switchboard for communicating with
various parts of the works. At the right there is a modern office-desk,
richly furnished, with a hatrack nearby. In the centre back is a large
leather covered davenport above which hangs a portrait of the late M.
Lehmann senior, the father of Lehmann Frères and the honored founder of
the establishment. Elsewhere on the walls hang framed views of the plant
and other appropriate pictures. There are exits right and left to inner
offices, likewise two exits in the rear, the right exit leading to the
street and provided with a glass-door, the left exit leading to the
shops. Whenever the left exit is opened the heavy whirr of machinery is
heard within. As the curtain rises_, BERTINE _is seen at the flat desk,
left, signing papers. A few moments later the telephone bell rings._
BERTINE _answers the telephone at his desk_.]
BERTINE. Hello!... Yes... M. Raoul Lehmann is out at present.... This is
his secretary, M. Bertine.... Yes.... He should be here shortly....
No.... M. Frédéric Lehmann has an important conference on hand in this
office at three o’clock.... No.... Impossible!... No!... No!!... Very
well.... Good-by. [_He hangs up the receiver and resumes work at his
papers._ RAOUL LEHMANN _enters at the rear right entrance with hat, cane
and gloves, which he places on the rack near his desk at the right_.]
BERTINE. Good afternoon, M. Lehmann. I have just had a telephone call
from a reporter of _Le Journal_ asking for an interview with you or your
brother.
RAOUL. Ah! So the newspapers have learned of our trouble with our
operatives. I presume they wish to send a representative to the
conference?
BERTINE. Yes. I took the liberty of informing the reporter that it was
impossible.
RAOUL. Very good! Has my brother returned from luncheon?
BERTINE. Not yet, sir. [_He hands a telegram to_ RAOUL.] This telegram
arrived while you were out.
RAOUL. [_Opens it and reads._] ‘If possible, kindly postpone conference
till five o’clock. I wish to be present at the meeting. Signed, D’Or.’
BERTINE. M. D’Or!
RAOUL. As he chooses to call himself—the grandson of the late Josiah
Dorr, whose money coupled with the brains of my honored father
[_Pointing to the portrait._] made this great plant possible. Let me
see—the Dorr estate holds about one-third of the shares, does it not?
BERTINE. Somewhat more. Within the last few months they have increased
their holdings to nearly forty per cent.
RAOUL. In any event, it is enough to command respect for such a request
as this. [FRÉDÉRIC LEHMANN _enters at the rear right entrance with hat
and gloves_.] Ah! Frédéric. I have just received this communication from
M. D’Or. [_He hands the telegram to_ FRÉDÉRIC.]
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Reads._] So! The mysterious grandson and heir!
RAOUL. We must accede to the request. He may make trouble otherwise—we
have enough to worry about without antagonizing our shareholders.
FRÉDÉRIC. By all means! If he is anything like his grandfather, he will
strengthen our position very much. Old Josiah always took care that he
got his share of the spoils—and usually a little besides!
RAOUL. [_To_ BERTINE.] Kindly have M. Albert sent here at once. He heads
the delegation, I believe?
BERTINE. Yes. [_He goes to the house-telephone and adjusts the plug._]
Hello.... Yes.... Ask M. Albert to come to the office.... Yes.... That’s
all.
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Looking at the telegram._] So the grandson of old Mr. Dorr
blossoms into M. D’Or!
RAOUL. Some rogue of a genealogist probably convinced him that the
change of name could be defended. The rich American has a weakness for
that sort of thing. The manufacture of genealogies is a more profitable
industry than that of laces, Frédéric!
FRÉDÉRIC. Very likely; but it demands an imagination—an inventive
faculty that most of us do not possess. [ALBERT _enters at the rear,
left. He bows respectfully to the_ LEHMANNS.]
RAOUL. M. Albert, our conference this afternoon will be postponed until
five o’clock. M. D’Or, who is one of our American shareholders, wishes
to attend the meeting, so we are making this change to accommodate him.
ALBERT. Very well, M. Lehmann. Shall I inform my associates?
RAOUL. Yes. I believe there are five of you?
ALBERT. Two of the men besides myself and two of the women.
RAOUL. You may return to your work, M. Albert. [ALBERT _bows himself out
at the left rear entrance_.]
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Who has been examining a paper at the table._] M. Bertine,
will you look over this schedule and compare it with the duplicate on
file in my office?
BERTINE. [_Taking the paper._] Very well, M. Lehmann. [_He bows low and
goes out at the side door, left._]
FRÉDÉRIC. Bah! What a life it must be to cringe and bow continually to
one’s superiors. Our M. Albert from the shops is scarcely more servile
than our M. Bertine in his attitude towards us.
RAOUL. True enough; but let M. Albert show lack of respect to so
influential a man as M. Bertine and he would soon feel the consequences.
Even the secretary of Lehmann Frères is a great man in the eyes of his
inferiors. [_He goes to his desk._] It’s a queer world, Frédéric, but
there’s considerable satisfaction to be gained from being in the front
ranks.
FRÉDÉRIC. Yes—to issue orders, not to take them; to command men, not to
obey them. [_Looks at the portrait._] What a debt we owe, Raoul, to the
genius of our dear father!
RAOUL. [_Drily, at the desk, without looking around._] And to the money
of old Josiah Dorr!
FRÉDÉRIC. Certainly—but tell me, could anything be more useless, in fact
more harmful than such money unless administered with discretion and
foresight?
RAOUL. By the way, Frédéric, M. Bertine has just informed me that the
Dorr interest is now forty per cent. of our capital. Have you been
keeping track of the stock-transfers?
FRÉDÉRIC. You signed the certificates as well as I.
RAOUL. True; they were all for small amounts, but it now occurs to me
there were a great many of them. I often regret that we ever reduced our
holdings below an actual majority of the stock. Of course, you had to
furnish your villa on the Axenstrasse—
FRÉDÉRIC. And you needed money to keep your racing-stables stocked with
thoroughbreds. You know very well, Raoul, that you disposed of more
shares than I did.
RAOUL. We have both been careless in the matter. Our joint holdings are
about forty-five per cent., which is but a little more than the Dorr
estate now holds. I know, the rest is scattered in small lots, but I get
apprehensive at times. [_He goes over to_ FRÉDÉRIC.] Frédéric, we have a
serious duty before us—we must regain a majority interest of the stock.
FRÉDÉRIC. You are right. We cannot afford to take chances on losing
control of the business. I shall increase the mortgage on my villa; you
can probably spare a few of your horses?
RAOUL. Yes. We must also devise other means of raising money. One thing
is certain—we cannot grant the demand of our workpeople for higher
wages. [_He picks up the petition from_ BERTINE’S _desk and scans it_.]
I note that they ask for a uniform advance of ten per cent. in all
departments.
FRÉDÉRIC. They might as well ask for one hundred and ten per cent.
[_Laughing._] You and I agree on that subject, at least—and M. D’Or is
not likely to intercede for them if he is as fond of fat dividends as
his respected grandfather used to be!
RAOUL. We need not fear M. D’Or. It is probably idle curiosity that
brings him here. [_Voices are heard in the room, left._ BERTINE _enters
excitedly, followed by_ D’OR, _who is dressed in fine white flannels,
with gold-headed cane, gold band on straw hat, several conspicuous gold
rings and a heavy watch fob_.]
BERTINE. [_Spluttering._] M. D’Or! M. Raoul Lehmann, M. Frédéric
Lehmann! [_He bows himself out._]
D’OR. [_With familiarity._] Ah, gentlemen, so I stand in the presence of
Lehmann Frères. [_They shake hands._] You evidently expected me to enter
by your front door [_Points back, right._] but I stole a march on you. I
have been inspecting the factory for the past two hours.
RAOUL. [_Surprised._] Inspecting the factory!
D’OR. I have been all over the plant—it is truly a model establishment.
I am pleased to be associated in the control of such an admirable hive
of industry. You will pardon my unconventional way of learning these
things, but I did not wish to be bored by an official and perfunctory
inspection starting from the office. I therefore took matters into my
own hands—and starting at the bottom, I have worked my way to the
intellectual summit of the structure. [_He looks about him._]
FRÉDÉRIC. It is a pleasure to know that we stood this unusual test so
well, M. D’Or—but, after all, the house of Lehmann Frères has nothing to
conceal—
D’OR. Evidently not. Your product is of the highest grade and commands
the best markets; your people work under the most hygienic conditions.
They are a busy multitude—those hundreds of men and women in the shops.
By the way, gentlemen, I observed some very pretty girls among them—but
I suppose you are already familiar with that fact.
RAOUL. [_Coldly._] Pardon me, M. D’Or—my brother and I are hardly in a
position to admire the personal charms of our employees. We are both
married men.
D’OR. Ah! I see—you may not talk freely of such things. How promptly you
seem to suspect that I was about to intimate something quite shocking.
Charming girls, just the same, even if they do not bask in the sunshine
of your favor. I became interested in one of the young women in your
lace department and stopped for a few moments to question her about her
work—a Mlle. Adrienne—Adrienne—[_He pulls out a small memorandum book._]
FRÉDÉRIC. Mlle. Courteaux.
D’OR. Thank you—that was the name. I was amazed at her dexterity and the
rapidity with which she worked. It was fascinating; yet she told me that
she receives only thirty-five francs a week.
RAOUL. Did she say _only_ thirty-five francs? She is one of our most
skilful and best-paid operatives.
D’OR. No—I supplied the _only_! It is an outrage—that attractive young
figure bending over the machine, those well-shaped, nimble fingers
constantly at work—and a miserable five and thirty francs at the end of
the week! No wonder your workers are complaining.
FRÉDÉRIC. But, M. D’Or, we pay the same wages as all the rest. There
must be a profit in the business—a fair return for the large capital
invested.
D’OR. I wish above all things to act intelligently when we meet their
delegation this afternoon—that is why I chose my own way of becoming
acquainted with the establishment. Have your people formulated their
grievances?
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Taking the document from_ BERTINE’S _desk_.] Yes, here is
their petition addressed to us. We did not wish to be subjected to their
oratory at the conference, so we insisted upon a preliminary bill of
complaint.
D’OR. [_Scanning the sheets._] H’m—in view of the prosperous times—plant
working to the limit of its capacity—unprecedented business—increased
rents—higher cost of living—we request a general increase of ten per
cent. Why, surely, it is very little that they ask?
RAOUL. Do you realize what an effect it will have upon our dividends?
FRÉDÉRIC. Are not our shareholders entitled to first consideration?
D’OR. [_Still glancing at the petition and not heeding their remarks._]
‘Respectfully submitted, Messrs. Albert, Lorraine, Frémiet; Mlles.
Céleste Bergère, Adrienne Courteaux’—well, I declare, my charming friend
of the lace-machine is to be one of your delegation! How soon do we meet
them?
RAOUL. I think we had better agree upon some line of action before we
invite the delegation to the office. We should at least present a united
front.
D’OR. How do you usually act in such an industrial crisis as this?
RAOUL. Sometimes we find it necessary to make a partial concession—they
are usually crafty enough to ask for twice what they expect to get.
Occasionally we can win over a delegation by assuring them of an
individual raise in wages and thus send them back to their associates
with a discouraging report.
FRÉDÉRIC. We dare not tamper with the present delegation—they would be
difficult to handle. Their leader, Albert, is a quiet fellow, but the
soul of honor. [_Looks over the petition._] Lorraine is an old man,
generally esteemed and beloved by his associates; Frémiet is a rascally
socialist, a constant breeder of trouble. [_He drops the petition._]
D’OR. [_Picking up the petition._] And the girls, Mlles. Céleste and
Adrienne—what lovely names they have!
FRÉDÉRIC. We never worry about the women in such delegations. They are
easily managed. It is strange, Raoul, that just those two should have
been chosen. You should know, M. D’Or, that Adrienne Courteaux is a
good, highly respected girl, who is supporting her widowed mother. As
for Mlle. Bergère—what shall I say, Raoul?
RAOUL. [_With sarcasm._] I hardly know how she will appeal to M. D’Or’s
fancy. She lacks exactly those virtues and qualities that strike us so
favorably in Mlle. Courteaux.
D’OR. Well, gentlemen, I see that you know something after all about the
young women of your establishment, in spite of the fact that you are
both married men—but, seriously, how do you propose to answer their
request for an advance?
RAOUL. There is but one answer if we are not to reduce our dividends—the
request must be refused.
D’OR. And the admirable Mlle. Courteaux, supporting a widowed mother,
will continue to get only thirty-five francs a week?
FRÉDÉRIC. Her case seems to distress you most. Do you realize that even
with the increase she would be earning less than forty francs?
D’OR. True—I hadn’t thought that it meant so little—so contemptibly
little. Gentlemen, I propose that we grant the ten per cent. increase
and that in such deserving cases as Mlle. Courteaux’s we give an
additional increment.
RAOUL. [_Leaping to his feet._] M. D’Or, pardon me—but what you propose
is impossible! Lehmann Frères are now paying the maximum wage-scale. We
cannot increase wages further without defying an established economic
law.
D’OR. M. Lehmann, the economic law has tyrannized over us long enough—it
must be taught a wholesome respect for the power of gold. Of what value
is wealth if it cannot crush so immaterial a thing as an economic law?
RAOUL. If you have no regard for your own interests, you should at least
respect the investment of the other shareholders.
D’OR. Who are the other shareholders?
RAOUL. You hold some forty per cent. from your grandfather’s estate
together with recent additions; my brother and I jointly own—[_A
pause._] about half of the stock or a little over. That leaves about six
or eight per cent. in small scattered holdings. [FRÉDÉRIC _looks
anxiously at_ D’OR.]
D’OR. [_With a sinister expression, drawing a bundle of certificates
from his pocket._] M. Lehmann, you and your brother own forty-five per
cent. or less! The so-called scattered holdings are not six or eight per
cent.—here are at least fifteen per cent.—you will observe that each
certificate is endorsed in my favor.
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Leaping up._] Then you actually own a majority of the stock?
[RAOUL _buries his face in his hands and groans_.]
D’OR. Yes. The Blausteins at Paris have been quietly obtaining this
little block of Lehmann Frères for me. Gentlemen, I was surprised to
learn that you had permitted the control to escape you.
RAOUL. [_Walking excitedly._] Why should the delegation consult with us,
Frédéric? M. D’Or now dominates the situation—why prolong the agony?
D’OR. You should not be so bitter, M. Lehmann, because the sins of your
own negligence have found you out. Your lie a moment ago is pardonable.
I recognize your talents—you have maintained and advanced a great
industry established by your father. I hope you will continue to direct
the interests of Lehmann Frères. I simply wish to act as spokesman in
the conference with your delegation—I may say _our_ delegation of
workers.
RAOUL. Why ask of us a favor that we have no power to withhold? Complete
your triumph! We are in your hands! [D’OR _glances for a moment at the
angry_ RAOUL, _then turns to_ FRÉDÉRIC.]
D’OR. Kindly summon the committee!
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Rings._ BERTINE _enters, left_.] M. Bertine, please ask the
delegation to come at once. [BERTINE _goes out, rear left. Frédéric
crosses over to_ RAOUL, _who seems crushed and helpless. He tries to
encourage_ RAOUL.]
D’OR. [_Looking at portrait, after a pause._] Your father’s portrait, I
presume?
RAOUL. Thank Heaven, he did not live to see this day!
D’OR. [_Drily._] If he had lived there would have been no such day—at
least, it would not have disturbed his equanimity.
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Comforting_ RAOUL.] Do not reply, Raoul. Let us at least
preserve appearances before our employees. [_Enter, rear left_, BERTINE,
_followed by_ ALBERT, _then_ CÉLESTE _and_ ADRIENNE, _finally_ LORRAINE
_and_ FRÉMIET. _Throughout this scene_ RAOUL _labors under suppressed
excitement_; FRÉDÉRIC _is more composed_.]
FRÉDÉRIC. M. D’Or, this is the delegation of our workpeople who have
arranged for to-day’s conference. May I say to the committee that we are
honored in having with us M. D’Or, who has a large interest in Lehmann
Frères and wishes to participate in our deliberation.
D’OR. I should like to meet the delegates individually.
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Indicating._] M. Albert is their leader.
D’OR. [_Shaking hands._] M. Albert, I am glad to grasp the hand of a man
who has the mark of leadership in his personality. [_Pointing to the
petition._] Is this petition your work?
ALBERT. [_Modestly._] Only partly, monsieur. The committee worked on it
as a body.
D’OR. It is a masterful summary. I congratulate you! [ALBERT _bows with
a look of gratification and steps aside_.]
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Introducing_ LORRAINE.] Our oldest worker, M. Lorraine.
D’OR. The oldest worker! Most interesting! How long have you been
associated with the company?
LORRAINE. I was twenty when the honored father [_Points to the
portrait._] of Messrs. Lehmann first engaged me—and I’ve been here ever
since. I have two sons and five grandsons here now. I am seventy-three
years old.
D’OR. [_Astonished._] Fifty-three years of faithful service—and you are
still among the workers! How is it that you have not risen to prosperity
in that time?
LORRAINE. [_Without bitterness._] We cannot all hope to reach the top.
Some of us have not the brains—and others have not the chance. I have
always been a sober and industrious man, but the pay is not large. I do
not complain, however—I have always been treated well.
D’OR. It is unjust—rankly unjust! [_He turns to_ FRÉMIET.] And our third
delegate?
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Curtly._] M. Frémiet.
D’OR. Ah! I recall—the anarchist!
FRÉMIET. Pardon me, I am a socialist.
D’OR. Is there any difference? [FRÉMIET’S _look is contemptuous_.] I am
quite unfamiliar with your nice distinctions of political or economic
creed. I dare say you regard yourself as a very badly used person?
FRÉMIET. Yes. Every worker is badly used. He does not get his share of
the wealth that he creates by the sweat of his brow.
D’OR. I suppose you believe that all men are created equal?
FRÉMIET. They are not—they should be.
D’OR. Ah! So you actually have a grudge against Nature in the first
instance. How unhappy you must be! At any rate you believe in social
equality. Let me test your faith. You are a workman, laboring faithfully
week after week at the plant of Lehmann Frères; I am a gentleman of
leisure, living idly on an inherited income. Do you believe that any
social upheaval can ever make me your equal?
FRÉMIET. [_Misunderstanding._] I regard myself as any man’s equal, poor
and crushed as I am. It is a cruel social tyranny that keeps us down.
D’OR. Pardon me, my friend—you did not listen carefully. I asked whether
you believed that any social upheaval could make me _your_ equal.
FRÉMIET. You are mocking me, M. D’Or. In your heart you know that you
are my superior—my superior in everything that is most desirable in this
world. You live your life according to the dictates of your own fancy,
you call no man master, the pleasures of the world are at your beck. Why
should you seek to torture me and these others on the rack?
D’OR. [_Turning to the_ LEHMANNS.] Really, I had no idea that my visit
was to be so interesting! [_To_ FRÉMIET.] M. Frémiet, you are something
better than a socialist—you are a poet. Instead of working at the
lace-machines you should capitalize your thoughts. You would soon
attract sufficient attention to make you rich and famous—and
incidentally to drive every vestige of socialism out of your system.
[FRÉMIET _bows with evident pleasure_.]
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Introducing_ CÉLESTE.] Mlle. Bergère.
CÉLESTE. [_With a curtsy, archly._] Céleste Bergère.
D’OR. [_Bowing._] Mademoiselle, I am particularly interested in the
welfare of the young women in our workrooms. In which department are
you?
CÉLESTE. I assist in sorting and packing embroideries.
D’OR. And what is your pay for this service?
CÉLESTE. Twenty francs a week.
D’OR. Twenty francs! How can one live on such wages?
CÉLESTE. [_With a deliberate look at the_ LEHMANNS.] One cannot—and very
few make the effort. [_The_ LEHMANNS _are astounded and annoyed at her
audacity; the men of the delegation seem uneasy_; ADRIENNE _draws away
from_ CÉLESTE.]
D’OR. [_With sympathy._] Pardon me for asking that question. I might
have anticipated the answer. Of course, a girl living at home with her
family is under less expense—
FRÉMIET. [_Starting forward._] How about the rest? It means ruin for the
rest!
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Waving_ FRÉMIET _back and introducing_ ADRIENNE.] I believe
you have met Mlle. Courteaux.
D’OR. [_Graciously._] Yes, I met Mlle. Courteaux in the lace department.
Your pay is thirty-five francs a week—it is inadequate, I know.
ADRIENNE. It would not be so bad if it were not for the doctor and for
the medicines that my mother needs.
D’OR. You are your mother’s sole support?
ADRIENNE. Yes. [D’OR _looks at her in mingled admiration and pity_.]
FRÉDÉRIC. Mlle. Courteaux receives high pay as the schedule is arranged.
There are hundreds who receive far less.
D’OR. Heaven help the hundreds—and the thousands of their kind
elsewhere. [_To_ ADRIENNE.] Are you happy at your work?
ADRIENNE. Yes; it is not difficult—one soon acquires the necessary
skill.
D’OR. But you are surely looking forward to something better—something
less monotonous than a lace-machine!
ALBERT. I hope some day to make Mlle. Courteaux my wife.
D’OR. Some day?
ALBERT. Yes. As soon as my pay is sufficient to keep us both.
D’OR. [_Looks at_ ALBERT, _then_ ADRIENNE.] This, too! Another tyranny
of our industrial system! [_Turns to_ FRÉDÉRIC.] Can Lehmann Frères
afford to be accessories to such hardships?
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Coldly._] It is distressing, of course—but we surely cannot
undertake to reform society and bring about universal happiness.
RAOUL. [_Stepping forward._] May I remind M. D’Or that we have summoned
this delegation to discuss the wage-scale? We can hardly reach any
conclusion by considering the individual cases before us.
D’OR. [_With suppressed anger._] Thank you for reminding me, M. Lehmann.
I have made the mistake of regarding our delegation as a group of human
beings. [_He seats himself between the_ LEHMANNS.] Let us settle down to
business. I take it for granted we are all familiar with the contents of
this petition—it sums up the situation aptly—unless our friend Frémiet
wishes to make a speech?
FRÉMIET. I have no speech to make, M. D’Or. I have been listening
attentively to you—you are a fair-minded man. I am perfectly willing to
leave our grievances in your hands. [D’OR _is visibly flattered_.]
D’OR. Very well. [_To_ RAOUL.] Now, M. Lehmann, you are the head of this
great establishment—for years you have directed it ably and profitably.
What do you suggest?
RAOUL. [_Looking keenly at_ D’OR.] Are you asking for my opinion?
D’OR. Certainly. Can we do anything for our people?
RAOUL. [_Speaking cautiously._] Perhaps what I say may appear
unsympathetic—but I have always proceeded on the assumption that the
shareholders deserve first consideration in the distribution of
earnings. Our relation with our workers is in the nature of a personal
contract—we offer a certain wage and they are free to refuse it and stay
out of our employ if they so desire.
D’OR. That is sufficiently blunt to be understood by any one—and it’s
also quite orthodox, I believe; but let us drop abstractions. Can we
afford the requested increase in wages?
RAOUL. [_Feeling his way._] I wish to do the fair thing—but before all
else I must advise the safe course. Our reports show clearly that a ten
per cent. increase in all departments would ruin the concern. Perhaps we
might compromise on a five per cent. advance and try it for—say six
months, without committing ourselves to continue it beyond that term
unless our earnings justify—
D’OR. [_Impatiently._] Nonsense, M. Lehmann; you would offer Mlle.
Bergère an extra franc per week, the others perhaps two francs or
less—do you imagine that you have solved the problem? I propose that we
try the ten per cent. increase and give it a fair test.
CÉLESTE. [_Eagerly._] Oh! M. D’Or, you are our good angel!
D’OR. [_Flattered._] What is more, I propose to learn the circumstances
of every girl who works in this plant, and wherever conditions warrant
it, I shall recommend an increase of twenty per cent. or even more—
FRÉDÉRIC. It is impossible! We shall face bankruptcy!
D’OR. We might try it, at any rate.
RAOUL. [_Fiercely._] Your plan cannot succeed.
D’OR. [_Ominously._] None the less I ask you—shall we try it?
RAOUL. [_After a struggle._] Yes, if you insist! [_The workers are
astounded._]
D’OR. [_To_ FRÉDÉRIC, _blandly_.] Do you also agree?
FRÉDÉRIC. Yes. Do whatever you think best!
D’OR. [_To the delegation._] Your petition is favorably considered and
you may report to your associates that an increase of ten per cent. in
all wages goes into effect immediately. [_The delegates are delighted_;
D’OR _pays no attention to the rest, but gazes at_ ADRIENNE.]
ALBERT. [_Kissing_ D’OR’S _hand_.] You are a friend of humanity, M.
D’Or!
LORRAINE. [_With choking voice._] I speak for my sons and grandsons when
I say, ‘Heaven bless you!’ You have brought joy into our lives.
FRÉMIET. If all employers were like you, monsieur, I would stay away
from our socialistic meetings.
CÉLESTE. [_Boldly._] M. D’Or, Adrienne and I also wish to thank you, do
we not? [ADRIENNE _stands with bowed head beside her_.] You have made us
so happy! You will be a hero henceforth in the eyes of us all. [_She
turns to_ ADRIENNE, _expecting her to say something_.]
D’OR. And what do you say, Mlle. Courteaux? [ADRIENNE _raises her head
and looks fixedly at_ D’OR _for several moments of tense silence; then
with a sob she bursts into tears_.]
ALBERT. [_Hastening to her._] The truest tribute of all, M. D’Or! The
tribute of tears!
RAOUL. [_Curtly._] The conference being over, you may return to your
work. [_The delegates pass out at the rear left._] M. Bertine, you will
at once post a notice in the shops announcing the increase in wages.
[BERTINE _goes off, left_. RAOUL’S _demeanor changes completely_.] M.
D’Or, in my whole life I have never experienced such a sense of
humiliation, of utter degradation as in the last half hour. What a
terrible man you are! How could you trample us so ruthlessly under
foot—and before our workpeople—treating us like a pair of impotent
puppets!
D’OR. [_Coolly._] I like to feel the power of my wealth. You have had
the same experience in dealing with your workers.
RAOUL. Why don’t you exercise your power over them? It is easier and
cheaper.
D’OR. They know the power of wealth—they need no further demonstration.
The war of wealth against wealth is more to my taste at present.
Besides, gentlemen, it is cleaner sport.
FRÉDÉRIC. Don’t you realize that as the majority stockholder you must
pay the lion’s share of the bill?
D’OR. Yes, but it’s worth whatever it costs to see such a precious pair
as you brought to terms. I am satisfied with the reward that my
generosity will bring. By nightfall I shall be heralded through the town
as the kind friend of the downtrodden workers—
RAOUL. [_Bitterly._] And Lehmann Frères will lose thirty to forty
thousand francs a year!
D’OR. Of which nearly one half will fall upon you and your brother.
RAOUL. You forget, M. D’Or—there is still one resource. It would not be
difficult to prove in any court of law that you are an irresponsible
person. When a man, in order to gratify a passing whim, seeks to disturb
the economic balance—
D’OR. [_With a sneer._] Economic balance! I like that phrase! On the one
hand, our wealth, securely entrenched with all its vast unlimited
influence; on the other, the hands and brains of the numerous wretches
whom we call our employees. Economic balance, indeed!
FRÉDÉRIC. M. D’Or, we shall not be ruined without a struggle. This
industry has been fostered through two generations of growth and
development. We take pride in it—
D’OR. Let us stop quarreling, gentlemen—I have heard enough in this
strain. At what figure do you estimate your holdings in Lehmann Frères?
RAOUL. [_Interrupting_ FRÉDÉRIC.] This morning our joint holdings were
worth six hundred thousand francs—Heaven knows what they are worth now,
with you in the saddle!
D’OR. [_Deliberately._] Then I presume the easiest way for me to restore
peace and to avoid a commission in lunacy would be to pay you—let us say
eight hundred thousand francs?
RAOUL. What do you mean? To buy us out?
D’OR. [_Toying with the petition._] Yes—for eight hundred thousand
francs.
FRÉDÉRIC. On what terms?
D’OR. A sight draft on the Blausteins at Paris. [_A frantic discussion
between the brothers, which evokes a smile from_ D’OR.]
RAOUL. [_Finally._] We accept your offer!
D’OR. Are you no longer afraid that I am a desperate madman? Are you
sure that a man who disturbs the economic balance can legally transact
business? Would not the sale of your holdings at such an outrageous
overvaluation be liable to attack in your courts?
RAOUL. [_Suavely._] Not unless you or your friends should proceed. You
made the offer yourself—we are not likely to test your sanity after the
draft is honored.
D’OR. Gentlemen, I see you are not without a sense of humor. Kindly draw
up a formal agreement—the actual transfer of the property can be
effected to-morrow. [RAOUL _prepares an agreement_.] You can make
immediate delivery, I presume?
FRÉDÉRIC. Yes. There is nothing to prevent you from taking absolute
possession of the entire establishment at once. You will henceforth be
able to follow the dictates of your own fancy in administering the
affairs of the company. Would it be an impertinence to wish you success
in your venture?
D’OR. I fear it would be, in the face of your conviction that I am
doomed to inevitable failure.
FRÉDÉRIC. You are trying to do the impossible!
D’OR. The impossible is the only thing worth doing nowadays. [RAOUL
_shows the agreement to_ FRÉDÉRIC.]
FRÉDÉRIC. [_Handing it to_ D’OR.] Very good!
D’OR. [_Returning it to_ RAOUL.] Quite proper—and to the point. [RAOUL
_rings for_ BERTINE, _who enters, left_.]
RAOUL. M. Bertine, kindly let us have three copies of this agreement at
once. [BERTINE _takes the paper, glances at its contents and utters an
involuntary cry_.]
RAOUL. [_Severely._] Have you forgotten yourself?
BERTINE. [_Confused._] I—I beg your pardon, gentlemen. [_He glances from
one to another, looks at_ D’OR _as at an apparition and goes out
awkwardly_.]
D’OR. [_Sympathetically._] Poor fellow! How hard he takes it! Gentlemen,
I confess that I looked for a possible word of sentiment from you—a
desire to remain identified with the great business that your father had
established and had developed to its present importance. I was even
prepared to bid higher in case my first offer was not accepted—[_The
brothers look at him in mingled anger and covetousness._] but the sum
seems to have satisfied your cupidity. However, I have an appeal to
make. I do not wish to undertake the administration of this great
industry—I know nothing about it. Do you care to remain here in your
present executive capacity? I know we can agree upon terms.
RAOUL. Events have crowded each other so quickly that neither of us has
any plans for the future. We shall be willing to stay—for a time at
least, eh, Frédéric?
FRÉDÉRIC. Assuredly. I, for one, am interested to know how M. D’Or’s
experiment is going to work out. Such audacity affords an enlightening
spectacle to the business man of normal training.
D’OR. Thank you, gentlemen, I shall appreciate your co-operation. Such a
business requires a certain amount of personal shrewdness and finesse
with which you are evidently well equipped. [BERTINE _enters with the
papers, hands them to_ RAOUL _and goes off, left_. RAOUL _signs each
copy, hands them to_ FRÉDÉRIC, _the latter signs and passes them to_
D’OR.]
D’OR. [_Signing the last copy._] There we are! [_Each takes a copy._]
That settles the formal transfer—the details can go over till to-morrow.
Is there anything further, gentlemen?
RAOUL. [_Somewhat excited, puts his hand to his brow._] I—I do not feel
altogether well. The excitement of the past hour is playing havoc with
my brain! I had better go home—
FRÉDÉRIC. My dear Raoul—you are not ill, I hope?
RAOUL. You had better take me home. [_They get their hats and gloves._]
M. D’Or, I wonder whether you are not a demon—or an apparition of some
evil dream!
D’OR. Have no fear, M. Lehmann. You will find my draft on the Blausteins
a very reliable piece of paper—in exchange for which I am to receive
[_Throwing out his arms._] all this!
RAOUL. [_In agony._] Ah! this is terrible! [_He goes out, rear right,
followed by_ FRÉDÉRIC. D’OR _looks after them with a laugh, jingles the
gold in his pocket and rings for_ BERTINE _who enters, left. As it is
growing dark_, BERTINE _turns on the electric lamp on the table_.]
D’OR. M. Bertine, at what time does work cease?
BERTINE. [_Consults his watch._] In twenty minutes, monsieur.
D’OR. Will you kindly ask Mlle. Courteaux to come to the office before
she leaves? You may tell her to come at once.
BERTINE. Very well, monsieur. [_He goes off, rear left._ D’OR _takes the
agreement from his pocket and laughs over it. He looks over other papers
on the desk with deprecatory gestures. For a few moments he gazes at the
portrait of Lehmann senior._ ADRIENNE _enters, rear left, followed by_
BERTINE.]
BERTINE. Anything further, monsieur?
D’OR. Not at present. [_Exit_ BERTINE, _left_. ADRIENNE _stands looking
steadily at_ D’OR.] Mlle. Courteaux, you doubtless wonder why I sent for
you?
ADRIENNE. [_Simply._] No, I am not wondering.
D’OR. But you surely cannot know? You see, I—that is, I was so much
distressed when I heard of your sick mother that I desire to learn if I
can do anything for her—perhaps a better doctor, or a trip to the
mountains. I am much interested in her welfare.
ADRIENNE. [_Coolly._] M. D’Or, it is impossible for me to believe that
you are at all concerned about my mother.
D’OR. You might at least credit me with good intentions towards her.
There was another reason for my summoning you. When I announced the
increase in wages to the delegation, the others were profuse in their
thanks. You said nothing—you burst into tears.
ADRIENNE. The rest believed you meant well by them.
D’OR. And you?
ADRIENNE. [_After a pause._] I knew better.
D’OR. [_With a look of admiration._] You are entirely too bright a girl
to pass your best years in a factory. This morning I recognized your
beauty and your charm of manner—now I learn that you are clever as well.
ADRIENNE. What next, M. D’Or?
D’OR. How did the shops receive the news of the increase?
ADRIENNE. The workers went almost wild with joy.
D’OR. And you alone find a sinister motive in what I did?
ADRIENNE. Am I wrong?
D’OR. [_With apparent wounded dignity._] You are doing me a great
injustice—I want you to regard me as a friend. I shall be perfectly
frank with you. When I arrived here I had no intention of playing the
philanthropist as I did a few moments ago. I would have supported the
Lehmanns and there would have been no increase—not a franc for anyone—if
I had not seen you at work.
ADRIENNE. All this would be very complimentary, monsieur, if I could
ignore the rest of your frankness.
D’OR. When I urged the increase in wages it was to please you—you alone.
I did not care a whit about the others—and the Lehmanns had to dance as
I fiddled!
ADRIENNE. That was evident. I felt very sorry for them.
D’OR. Then you don’t think better of me for what I have done?
ADRIENNE. How can you expect any one who reads your motives to think
well of you?
D’OR. Of course, the increase was only a trifle for you after all! But
suppose you could get away from the lace-machine altogether, could live
well, dress well and enjoy life in a way worthy of your beauty—would
that make any difference?
ADRIENNE. M. D’Or, why do you find it necessary to insult me?
D’OR. Perhaps you care for that fellow Albert?
ADRIENNE. [_Quietly._] No.
D’OR. Is there any one else?
ADRIENNE. No.
D’OR. [_More eagerly._] I wouldn’t use that word ‘insult’ if I were you.
I am offering to take you out of a life of drudgery into one of comfort
and affluence, to put the luxuries of the world at your disposal, to
give you the one talisman to the real joy of living.
ADRIENNE. And that is—
D’OR. [_Drawing out a handful of gold coin and talking hysterically._]
Gold! Gold! Unlimited gold! The faithful slave that brings me whatever I
desire. The power that sent the Lehmanns slinking out of this room a few
minutes ago like a pair of whipped curs! The power that has placed the
entire establishment of Lehmann Frères in my hands. I own it all—all,
Adrienne!
ADRIENNE. And you are the man who is now being proclaimed throughout the
town as the champion of the poor man, the friend of the oppressed
woman—you, who seek to control only that you may corrupt!
D’OR. [_Nettled._] How dare you speak thus to me? You forget that I am
your employer!
ADRIENNE. That you are not. You have made it impossible for me to earn
my living here. [_She moves toward the door, rear left._] Even if you do
own Lehmann Frères, you might at least spare to your workers their own
souls. You call gold your faithful slave; be careful that your slave
does not master you in the end! [_She passes out quickly._ D’OR _stares
after her and throws the coins on the table. He laughs nervously as he
looks about, especially at the portrait of Lehmann senior. He picks up
the petition, pulls out the agreement, and after some moments of
indecision goes to the telephone._]
D’OR. [_Looks up the number in the telephone book._] 7—1—4 please....
Hello.... Yes.... Is that the home of M. Raoul Lehmann?... M. Lehmann
himself? This is M. D’Or, at the office.... Yes.... I have changed my
mind about purchasing your interest and your brother’s.... Yes, I prefer
to restore the plant into your hands.... Yes, a majority of the stock as
well as a bonus for cancelling the deal.... I know you won’t lose
control of it again.... Yes.... I’m sorry I treated you and your brother
so roughly to-day.... Why am I giving it up? Well, I’ve already had
enough of it. Besides, your father’s portrait makes me nervous. I
wouldn’t care to take it down—and I don’t dare to look at it.... What’s
that?... You accept? Good!... Will you inform your brother?... Very
well, in the morning at ten! Are you feeling better?... I am glad to
hear it.... Good-by. [_He goes over to the table and slowly picks up the
coins._] To-day you played me a very shabby trick! [_He pockets the
gold, puts on his hat, takes his cane and is about to leave when he
again notices the portrait. He goes directly to it, takes off his hat
with a bow and addresses the picture._] M. Lehmann, I have the honor to
bid you farewell! [_With a laugh he goes out at the rear right entrance
as the curtain falls._]