CHLOE's boudoir at half-past seven the same evening. A pretty
room. No pictures on the walls, but two mirrors. A screen and
a luxurious couch an the fireplace side, stage Left. A door
rather Right of Centre Back; opening inwards. A French window,
Right forward: A writing table, Right Back. Electric light
burning.
CHLOE, in a tea-gown, is standing by the forward end of the
sofa, very still, and very pale. Her lips are parted, and her
large eyes stare straight before them as if seeing ghosts: The
door is opened noiselessly and a WOMAN'S face is seen. It
peers at CHLOE, vanishes, and the door is closed. CHLOE raises
her hands, covers her eyes with them, drops them with a quick
gesture, and looks round her. A knock. With a swift movement
she slides on to the sofa, and lies prostrate, with eyes
closed.
CHLOE. [Feebly] Come in!
[Her Maid enters; a trim, contained figure of uncertain years,
in a black dress, with the face which was peering in.]
Yes, Anna?
ANNA. Aren't you going in to dinner, ma'am?
CHLOE. [With closed eyes] No.
ANNA. Will you take anything here, ma'am?
CHLOE. I'd like a biscuit and a glass of champagne.
[The MAID, who is standing between sofa and door, smiles.
CHLOE, with a swift look, catches the smile.]
Why do you smile?
ANNA. Was I, ma'am?
CHLOE. You know you were. [Fiercely] Are you paid to smile at me?
ANNA. [Immovable] No, ma'am, Would you like some eau de Cologne on
your forehead?
CHLOE. Yes.--No.--What's the good? [Clasping her forehead] My
headache won't go.
ANNA. To keep lying down's the best thing for it.
CHLOE. I have been--hours.
ANNA. [With the smile] Yes, ma'am.
CHLOE. [Gathering herself up on the sofa] Anna! Why do you do it?
ANNA. Do what, ma'am?
CHLOE. Spy on me.
ANNA. I--never! I----!
CHLOE. To spy! You're a fool, too. What is there to spy on?
ANNA. Nothing, ma'am. Of course, if you're not satisfied with me,
I must give notice. Only--if I were spying, I should expect to have
notice given me. I've been accustomed to ladies who wouldn't stand
such a thing for a minute.
CHLOE: [Intently] Well, you'll take a month's wages and go
tomorrow. And that's all, now.
[ANNA inclines her head and goes out.]
[CHLOE, with a sort of moan, turns over and buries her face in
the cushion.]
CHLOE. [Sitting up] If I could see that man--if only--or Dawker---
[She springs up and goes to the door, but hesitates, and comes
back to the head of the sofa, as ROLF comes in. During this
scene the door is again opened stealthily, an inch or too.]
ROLF. How's the head?
CHLOE. Beastly, thanks. I'm not going into dinner.
ROLF. Is there anything I can do for you?
CHLOE. No, dear boy. [Suddenly looking at him] You don't want
this quarrel with the Hillcrists to go on, do you, Rolf?
ROLF. No; I hate it.
CHLOE. Well, I think I might be able to stop it. Will you slip
round to Dawker's--it's not five minutes--and ask him to come and
see me.
ROLF. Father and Charlie wouldn't----
CHLOE. I know. But if he comes to the window here while you're at
dinner, I'll let him in, and out, and nobody'd know.
ROLF. [Astonished] Yes, but what I mean how----
CHLOE. Don't ask me. It's worth the shot that's all. [Looking at
her wrist-watch] To this window at eight o'clock exactly. First
long window on the terrace, tell him.
ROLF. It's nothing Charlie would mind?
CHLOE. No; only I can't tell him--he and father are so mad about it
all.
ROLF. If there's a real chance----
CHLOE. [Going to the window and opening it] This way, Rolf. If
you don't come back I shall know he's coming. Put your watch by
mine. [Looking at his watch] It's a minute fast, see!
ROLF. Look here, Chloe
CHLOE. Don't wait; go on.
[She almost pushes him out through the window, closes it after
him, draws the curtains again, stands a minute, thinking hard;
goes to the bell and rings it; then, crossing to the writing
table, Right Back, she takes out a chemist's prescription.]
[ANNA comes in.]
CHLOE. I don't want that champagne. Take this to the chemist and
get him to make up some of these cachets quick, and bring them back
yourself.
ANNA. Yes, ma'am; but you have some.
CHLOE. They're too old; I've taken two--the strength's out of them.
Quick, please; I can't stand this head.
ANNA. [Taking the prescription--with her smile] Yes, ma'am. It'll
take some time--you don't want me?
CHLOE. No; I want the cachets.
[ANNA goes out.]
[CHLOE looks at her wrist-watch, goes to the writing-table,
which is old-fashioned, with a secret drawer, looks round her,
dives at the secret drawer, takes out a roll of notes and a
tissue paper parcel. She counts the notes: "Three hundred."
Slips them into her breast and unwraps the little parcel. It
contains pears. She slips them, too, into her dress, looks
round startled, replaces the drawer, and regains her place on
the sofa, lying prostrate as the door opens, and HORNBLOWER
comes in. She does not open her ages, and he stands looking at
her a moment before speaking.]
HORNBLOWER. [Almost softly] How are ye feelin'. Chloe?
CHLOE. Awful head!
HORNBLOWER: Can ye attend a moment? I've had a note from that
woman.
[CHLOE sits up.]
HORNBLOWER. [Reading] "I have something of the utmost importance
to tell you in regard to your daughter-in-law. I shall be waiting
to see you at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning. The matter is so
utterly vital to the happiness of all your family, that I cannot
imagine you will fail to come." Now, what's the meaning of it? Is
it sheer impudence, or lunacy, or what?
CHLOE. I don't know.
HORNBLOWER. [Not unkindly] Chloe, if there's anything--ye'd better
tell me. Forewarned's forearmed.
CHLOE. There's nothing; unless it's--[With a quick took at him,]--
Unless it's that my father was a--a bankrupt.
HORNBLOWER. Hech! Many a man's been that. Ye've never told us
much about your family.
CHLOE. I wasn't very proud of him.
HORNBLOWER. Well, ye're not responsible for your father. If that's
all, it's a relief. The bitter snobs! I'll remember it in the
account I've got with them.
CHLOE. Father, don't say anything to Charlie; it'll only worry him
for nothing.
HORNBLOWER. No, no, I'll not. If I went bankrupt, it'd upset
Chearlie, I've not a doubt. [He laugh. Looking at her shrewdly]
There's nothing else, before I answer her?
[CHLOE shakes her head.]
Ye're sure?
CHLOE. [With an effort] She may invent things, of course.
HORNBLOWER. [Lost in his feud feeling] Ah! but there's such a
thing as the laws o' slander. If they play pranks, I'll have them
up for it.
CHLOE. [Timidly] Couldn't you stop this quarrel; father? You said
it was on my account. But I don't want to know them. And they do
love their old home. I like the girl. You don't really need to
build just there, do you? Couldn't you stop it? Do!
HORNBLOWER. Stop it? Now I've bought? Na, no! The snobs defied
me, and I'm going to show them. I hate the lot of them, and I hate
that little Dawker worst of all.
CHLOE. He's only their agent.
HORNBLOWER. He's a part of the whole dog-in-the-manger system that
stands in my way. Ye're a woman, and ye don't understand these
things. Ye wouldn't believe the struggle I've had to make my money
and get my position. These county folk talk soft sawder, but to get
anything from them's like gettin' butter out of a dog's mouth. If
they could drive me out of here by fair means or foul, would they
hesitate a moment? Not they! See what they've made me pay; and
look at this letter. Selfish, mean lot o' hypocrites!
CHLOE. But they didn't begin the quarrel.
HORNBLOWER. Not openly; but underneath they did--that's their way.
They began it by thwartin' me here and there and everywhere, just
because I've come into me own a bit later than they did. I gave 'em
their chance, and they wouldn't take it. Well, I'll show 'em what a
man like me can do when he sets his mind to it. I'll not leave much
skin on them.
[In the intensity of his feeling he has lost sight of her face,
alive with a sort of agony of doubt, whether to plead with him
further, or what to do. Then, with a swift glance at her
wristwatch, she falls back on the sofa and closes her eyes.]
It'll give me a power of enjoyment seein' me chimneys go up in front
of their windies. That was a bonnie thought--that last bid o' mine.
He'd got that roused up, I believe, he, never would a' stopped.
[Looking at her] I forgot your head. Well, well, ye'll be best
tryin' quiet. [The gong sounds.] Shall we send ye something in
from dinner?
CHLOE. No; I'll try to sleep. Please tell them I don't want to be
disturbed.
HORNBLOWER. All right. I'll just answer this note.
[He sits down at her writing-table.]
[CHLOE starts up from the sofa feverishly, looking at her
watch, at the window, at her watch; then softly crosses to the
window and opens it.]
HORNBLOWER. [Finishing] Listen! [He turns round towards the sofa]
Hallo! Where are ye?
CHLOE. [At the window] It's so hot.
HORNBLOWER. Here's what I've said:
"MADAM,--You can tell me nothing of my daughter-in-law which
can affect the happiness of my family. I regard your note as
an impertinence, and I shall not be with you at eleven o'clock
to-morrow morning.
"Yours truly----"
CHLOE. [With a suffering movement of her head] Oh!--Well!--[The
gong is touched a second time.]
HORNBLOWER. [Crossing to the door] Lie ye down, and get a sleep.
I'll tell them not to disturb ye; and I hope ye'll be all right
to-morrow. Good-night, Chloe.
CHLOE. Good-night. [He goes out.]
[After a feverish turn or two, CHLOE returns to the open window
and waits there, half screened by the curtains. The door is
opened inch by inch, and ANNA'S head peers round. Seeing where
CHLOE is, she slips in and passes behind the screen, Left.
Suddenly CHLOE backs in from the window.]
CHLOE. [In a low voice] Come in.
[She darts to the door and locks it.]
[DAWKER has come in through the window and stands regarding her
with a half smile.]
DAWKER. Well, young woman, what do you want of me?
[In the presence of this man of her own class, there comes a
distinct change in CHLOE'S voice and manner; a sort of frank
commonness, adapted to the man she is dealing with, but she
keeps her voice low.]
CHLOE. You're making a mistake, you know.
DAWKER. [With a broad grin] No. I've got a memory for faces.
CHLOE. I say you are.
DAWKER. [Turning to go] If that's all, you needn't have troubled
me to come.
CHLOE. No. Don't go! [With a faint smile] You are playing a game
with me. Aren't you ashamed? What harm have I done you? Do you
call this cricket?
DAWKER. No, my girl--business.
CHLOE. [Bitterly] What have I to do with this quarrel? I couldn't
help their falling out.
DAWKER. That's your misfortune.
CHLOE. [Clasping her hands] You're a cruel fellow if you can spoil
a woman's life who never did you an ounce of harm.
DAWKER. So they don't know about you. That's all right. Now, look
here, I serve my employer. But I'm flesh and blood, too, and I
always give as good as I get. I hate this family of yours. There's
no name too bad for 'em to call me this last month, and no looks too
black to give me. I tell you frankly, I hate.
CHLOE. There's good in them same as in you.
DAWKER. [With a grin] There's no good Hornblower but a dead
Hornblower.
CHLOE. But--but Im not one.
DAWKER. You'll be the mother of some, I shouldn't wonder.
CHLOE. [Stretching out her hand-pathetically] Oh! leave me alone,
do! I'm happy here. Be a sport! Be a sport!
DAWKER. [Disconcerted for a second] You can't get at me, so don't
try it on.
CHLOE. I had such a bad time in old days.
[DAWKER shakes his head; his grin has disappeared and his face
is like wood.]
CHLOE. [Panting] Ah! do! You might! You've been fond of some
woman, I suppose. Think of her!
DAWKER. [Decisively] It won't do, Mrs. Chloe. You're a pawn in
the game, and I'm going to use you.
CHLOE. [Despairingly] What is it to you? [With a sudden touch of
the tigress] Look here! Don't you make an enemy, of me. I haven't
dragged through hell for nothing. Women like me can bite, I tell
you.
DAWKER. That's better. I'd rather have a woman threaten than
whine, any day. Threaten away! You'll let 'em know that you met me
in the Promenade one night. Of course you'll let 'em know that,
won't you?--or that----
CHLOE. Be quiet! Oh! Be quiet! [Taking from her bosom the notes
and the pearls] Look! There's my savings--there's all I've got!
The pearls'll fetch nearly a thousand. [Holding it out to him]
Take it, and drop me out--won't you? Won't you?
DAWKER. [Passing his tongue over his lips with a hard little laugh]
You mistake your man, missis. I'm a plain dog, if you like, but I'm
faithful, and I hold fast. Don't try those games on me.
CHLOE. [Losing control] You're a beast!--a beast! a cruel,
cowardly beast! And how dare you bribe that woman here to spy on
me? Oh! yes, you do; you know you do. If you drove me mad, you
wouldn't care. You beast!
DAWKER. Now, don't carry on! That won't help you.
CHLOE. What d'you call it--to dog a woman down like this, just
because you happen to have a quarrel with a man?
DAWKER. Who made the quarrel? Not me, missis. You ought to know
that in a row it's the weak and helpless--we won't say the innocent
--that get it in the neck. That can't be helped.
CHLOE. [Regarding him intently] I hope your mother or your sister,
if you've got any, may go through what I'm going through ever since
you got on my track. I hope they'll know what fear means. I hope
they'll love and find out that it's hanging on a thread, and--and--
Oh! you coward, you persecuting coward! Call yourself a man!
DAWKER. [With his grin] Ah! You look quite pretty like that. By
George! you're a handsome woman when you're roused.
[CHLOE'S passion fades out as quickly as it blazed up. She
sinks down on the sofa, shudders, looks here and there, and
then for a moment up at him.]
CHLOE. Is there anything you'll take, not to spoil my life?
[Clasping her hands on her breast; under her breath] Me?
DAWKER. [Wiping his brow] By God! That's an offer. [He recoils
towards the window] You--you touched me there. Look here! I've
got to use you and I'm going to use you, but I'll do my best to let
you down as easy as I can. No, I don't want anything you can give
me--that is--[He wipes his brow again] I'd like it--but I won't
take it.
[CHLOE buries her face in her hands.]
There! Keep your pecker up; don't cry. Good-night! [He goes
through the window.]
CHLOE. [Springing up] Ugh! Rat in a trap! Rat----!
[She stands listening; flies to the door, unlocks it, and,
going back to the sofa, lies down and doses her eyes. CHARLES
comes in very quietly and stands over her, looking to see if
she is asleep. She opens her eyes.]
CHARLES. Well, Clo! Had a sleep, old girl?
CHLOE. Ye-es.
CHARLES. [Sitting on the arm of the sofa and caressing her] Feel
better, dear?
CHLOE. Yes, better, Charlie.
CHARLES. That's right. Would you like some soup?
CHLOE. [With a shudder] No.
CHARLES. I say-what gives you these heads? You've been very on and
off all this last month.
CHLOE. I don't know. Except that--except that I am going to have a
child, Charlie.
CHARLES. After all! By Jove! Sure?
CHLOE. [Nodding] Are you glad?
CHARLES. Well--I suppose I am. The guv'nor will be mighty pleased,
anyway.
CHLOE. Don't tell him--yet.
CHARLES. All right! [Bending over and drawing her to him] My poor
girl, I'm so sorry you're seedy. Give us a kiss.
[CHLOE puts up her face and kisses him passionately.]
I say, you're like fire. You're not feverish?
CHLOE. [With a laugh] It's a wonder if I'm not. Charlie, are you
happy with me?
CHARLES. What do you think?
CHLOE. [Leaning against him] You wouldn't easily believe things
against me, would you?
CHARLES. What! Thinking of those Hillcrists? What the hell that
woman means by her attitude towards you--When I saw her there
to-day, I had all my work cut out not to go up and give her a bit
of my mind.
CHLOE. [Watching him stealthily] It's not good for me, now I'm
like this. It's upsetting me, Charlie.
CHARLES. Yes; and we won't forget. We'll make 'em pay for it.
CHLOE. It's wretched in a little place like this. I say, must you
go on spoiling their home?
CHARLES. The woman cuts you and insults you. That's enough for me.
CHLOE. [Timidly] Let her. I don't care; I can't bear feeling
enemies about, Charlie, I--get nervous--I----
CHARLES. My dear girl! What is it?
[He looks at her intently.]
CHLOE. I suppose it's--being like this. [Suddenly] But, Charlie,
do stop it for my sake. Do, do!
CHARLES. [Patting her arm] Come, come; I say, Chloe! You're
making mountains. See things in proportion. Father's paid nine
thousand five hundred to get the better of those people, and you
want him to chuck it away to save a woman who's insulted you.
That's not sense, and it's not business. Have some pride.
CHLOE. [Breathless] I've got no pride, Charlie. I want to be
quiet--that's all.
CHARLES. Well, if the row gets on your nerves, I can take you to
the sea. But you ought to enjoy a fight with people like that.
CHLOE. [With calculated bitterness] No, it's nothing, of course--
what I want.
CHARLES. Hello! Hello! You are on the jump!
CHLOE. If you want me to be a good wife to you, make father stop
it.
CHARLES. [Standing up] Now, look here, Chloe, what's behind this?
CHLOE. [Faintly] Behind?
CHARLES. You're carrying on as if--as if you were really scared!
We've got these people: We'll have them out of Deepwater in six
months. It's absolute ruination to their beastly old house; we'll
put the chimneys on the very edge, not three hundred yards off, and
our smoke'll be drifting over them half the time. You won't have
this confounded stuck-up woman here much longer. And then we can
really go ahead and take our proper place. So long as she's here,
we shall never do that. We've only to drive on now as fast as we
can.
CHLOE. [With a gesture] I see.
CHARLES. [Again looking at her] If you go on like this, you know,
I shall begin to think there's something you----
CHLOE [softly] Charlie! [He comes to her.] Love me!
CHARLES. [Embracing her] There, old girl! I know women are funny
at these times. You want a good night, that's all.
CHLOE. You haven't finished dinner, have you? Go back, and I'll go
to bed quite soon. Charlie, don't stop loving me.
CHARLES. Stop? Not much.
[While he is again embracing her, ANNA steals from behind the
screen to the door, opens it noiselessly, and passes through,
but it clicks as she shuts it.]
CHLOE. [Starting violently] Oh-h!
[He comes to her.]
CHARLES. What is it? What is it? You are nervy, my dear.
CHLOE. [Looking round with a little laugh] I don't know. Go on,
Charlie. I'll be all right when this head's gone.
CHARLES. [Stroking her forehead and, looking at her doubtfully]
You go to bed; I won't be late coming up.
[He turn, and goes, blowing a kiss from the doorway. When he
is gone, CHLOE gets up and stands in precisely the attitude in
which she stood at the beginning of the Act, thinking, and
thinking. And the door is opened, and the face of the MAID
peers round at her.]
CURTAIN