my advice, the world would become so intensely sensible as to be utterly
uninteresting. Besides, there's really nothing much to be upset about.
You see, fortunately, the lady was a _strong_ woman. Now, if she had
been a _weak_ one, why----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That's not all, Theodore. I could have got over that. I shouldn't have
been the first woman to find out that a man's respectable only so long
as he thinks you can see him. But he's ruined me, Theodore. He's lost
all my money for me.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Whistles._) And found it for himself, I suppose.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That's just what _I_ suppose too. And not content with that, he's
cheated poor old Cherry here out of £8,000.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Looks across at Cherry, who is standing utterly crushed._) "The
Anti-Alcoholic and Mineral Water Union, Limited?"
ADAM CHERRY.
(_With a groan._) Yes, I signed the application for 200 shares not an
hour ago. He said he'd see that they were allotted to me.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I should say you could rely upon them. Are they settled for?
ADAM CHERRY.
I expect so by now. He suggested that I should telegraph to my brokers
at the same time.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
And you did so? Of course, you would. (_Looks at watch_). Four
o'clock--too late to do anything to-day. I will go up first thing
to-morrow morning and see if anything can be done. Not that I expect
anything _can_. Ben's got his failings, but he _is_ a good business
man. I'll give a look into your affairs at the same time, mater. I don't
suppose you'll get anything back, but it will be interesting to find out
where it's all gone to.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Rising with grunt of disgust_) Ah! and to think I've got to live with
it, and to call it "my dear" when company's present. I'll make up for it
in private. Theo, keep an eye on me for a bit. Don't let me get at him
unless you want to see me doing my six months' hard for wringing his
neck. (_Goes out_)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
You trust him, mater. He won't let you get at him. (_To Cherry_) Don't
let Ben see that you suspect anything, or he'll----
(_Primrose appears at window_)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Looking in_) Come on, Theodore. I'm waiting for you.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I know you are. You shall be rewarded anon. I've just got to talk a
little business with Mr. Cherry (_Puts his hand on Cherry's shoulder,
and takes him towards door._) Come up to my study. We shan't be
interrupted there.
It's so very kind of you.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Not at all--not at all. (_Aside._) Good material for a financial novel.
(_They go off._)
(_Primrose and Nelly come in from garden_.)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Nelly! something very serious is going on here. Mr. Ben Dixon's been
doing something that he oughtn't.
(_She sits before piano, touching the keys softly, making a faint
suggestion of music here and there throughout the conversation_). I'm
afraid it's a common failing, dear.
Yes--but he's been doing it more than usual. I don't like that man. Ted
doesn't like him either. He says he is an oily old scoundrel.
NELLY MORRIS.
Ted might speak a little more respectfully of his host.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, he's not our host. It's _Mrs_. Ben Dixon--and besides that was only
to _me_, you know.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh!
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I never could make out why Mrs. Ben Dixon married him. She's so jolly.
(_Musingly._) One does come across some very ill-assorted couples--very.
When are you going to be married, Nelly?
NELLY MORRIS.
Very soon, I think.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
May I be bridesmaid?
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh, there won't be any bridesmaids, dear, or anything of that sort. We
shall just go into the church, our two selves, come out, and go away.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No breakfast?
NELLY MORRIS.
( Shakes her head and smiles.) No fuss of any kind.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No dress! No flowers! No presents! No people!
No cake! (_Nell shakes her head_.) How will you know that you're
married?
NELLY MORRIS.
(_A little bitterly._) I shall wake to the fact soon enough.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Nelly, didn't you ever have a young lover? Mr. Cherry's awfully nice
and good, but you know what I mean--somebody handsome, and big, and
impudent. Who---- (_With a girl's quickness notices the trembling of
Nelly's lip._) Was it very long ago?
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Very low._) I think so--very, very long ago.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
What happened? Did you quarrel?
NELLY MORRIS.
No, dear. Only like Jamie in the ballad, he hadn't any siller and Ted
and I hadn't any siller, and----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
And so you're going to marry "Auld Robin Gray." Oh, Nelly, is it too
late? There's a lot of siller in the world, but there isn't much love.
Is it too late, dear?
NELLY MORRIS.
Yes.
(_Enter Jack, with hat and stick in hand, ushered in by servant._)
SERVANT.
Mrs. Ben Dixon won't be long, sir. (_Goes out_.)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, Mr. Medbury! (_Advances to him and shakes hands._)
JACK MEDBURY.
How d'you do, Miss Deane? (_Shaking hands with Nelly, who has risen, a
little constrainedly._) How are you, Miss Morris?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Mrs. Ben Dixon will be so glad to see you, I know. She was saying only
this morning how sorry she was you hadn't been able to come down.
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, I'm ashamed to say I haven't come to see Mrs. Ben Dixon now. (_The
girls look surprised._) I've really come more to see Ted. Is he here?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Anxiously._) There's nothing happened?
JACK MEDBURY.
Nothing to do with him. It's a matter I wanted to consult him about,
that's all.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I'll go and find him for you.
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, it's a shame to trouble you.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
It's brutal, isn't it? (_She goes out laughing._)
JACK MEDBURY.
(_After a pause; he and Nelly seem careful not to look at one another._)
How is Ted? All right?
NELLY MORRIS.
Yes, he's very much better. He seems more cheerful.
JACK MEDBURY.
Ah, yes, things are looking a bit brighter for him, I hope. Change of
luck's better even than change of air for putting new life into a man, I
should think.
NELLY MORRIS.
How--how are _you_ getting on?
JACK MEDBURY.
Me? Oh, much the same as usual. I suppose _I_ ought to be a little
luckier now, if there's any truth in the old adage.
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Still not looking at him--after a pause._) Jack, can you forgive me?
JACK MEDBURY.
There's nothing to forgive, Nelly.
NELLY MORRIS.
Yes there is, Jack--a lot. I've used you very badly. Any other man would
hate me and despise me. But--but I don't want you to, Jack. (_Leans
over over her book. A pause._)
JACK MEDBURY.
There's not much fear of that, Nelly. I can never tell you--I had better
not try to, perhaps--what I feel--what I shall always feel towards you.
It isn't hate, Nelly. We shall be drifting farther and farther apart,
out of sight of one another. Think of me--when you do think of me--as
kindly as I shall ever think of you. It will be a help to me to know
that you are doing so.
(_Nelly has risen, and they stand facing each other. Yielding to a
sudden impulse, she raises her face to his and their lips meet. Then
with a low cry she pushes him from her, and goes out._)
(_Enter Ted and Cherry._)
TED MORRIS.
Hulloa, Jack, old man, anything up?
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes, something rather important. I thought I'd just run down and see you
about it. (_Shaking hands with Cherry._) You're not looking too well,
Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
I'm a little worried, my dear boy--a little worried.
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, I'm so sorry. Well, look here, I'll talk about this matter to Ted,
then. I won't trouble you with it.
ADAM CHERRY.
No, dear boy; no. If it's about anybody else's worries it will help me
to forget my own. What is it? Nothing wrong with you, I hope?
JACK MEDBURY.
No, it's about other people. (_Commencing to take paper from his
pocket._) Have you seen _The Illustrated Police News_ this week?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Grasping what is coming._) Yes--I have. What do you know about it?
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh! Oh, nothing (_unfolding paper_), except that the portrait of the
gentleman in the centre picture--drawn by a chum of mine who happened to
be present, and sent to the paper for a joke--seems to me an excellent
likeness of your friend Mr. Ben Dixon. Who do you say it is? (_Hands
paper to Cherry._)
TED MORRIS.
(_Taking paper from Cherry._) Great Scott! it _must_ be Ben Dixon.
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, it is. There's no question of doubt. Young Travers knows all about
the matter. It _is_ Mr. Ben Dixon.
JACK MEDBURY
Mrs. Wheedles says it isn't.
TED MORRIS.
Mrs. Wheedles? What does she know about it?
JACK MEDBURY.
She says she knows the party very well indeed, and that his name
is--Wheedles!
TED MORRIS
Wheedles!
JACK MEDBURY.
The long-lost Wheedles!
ADAM CHERRY.
Impossible!
JACK MEDBURY.
So I explained to her. I told her that he was an eminent philanthropist
and that his name was Ben Dixon. She said she didn't care what he was
or what he was called: his real name was Wheedles, he was her lawful
married husband, and if we would bring her face to face with him she
would precious soon prove it.
(A pause. The three men look at one another.)
ADAM CHERRY.
Well, from what I've found out to-day, I should say he was villain
enough for anything.
TED MORRIS.
And from what I've suspected for a pretty long time, I should say the
same.
JACK MEDBURY.
What are we to do? Mrs. Wheedles says she'll have the law on him.
TED MORRIS.
Why, do all we can as good citizens to assist Mrs. Wheedles and the law.
It will be a precious good thing for aunt to get rid of the old humbug.
ADAM CHERRY.
We must go to work cautiously you know, Ted, or we may only make matters
more unpleasant for your aunt than they are. Mrs. Wheedles may be
mistaken.
TED MORRIS.
I hope to goodness she isn't. I wonder how we can find out?
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, by-the-bye, she gave me this too (_produces photo and shows it_).
The last portrait of Wheedles--taken four years ago. (_Ted takes paper,
and compares photo with paper._) Should you say 'twas the same man?
TED MORRIS.
(_Examining_.) The whiskers make such a difference. Hadn't she got a
photo of him with some hair on his face?
JACK MEDBURY.
No. I asked her that. Wheedles seems to have always lived a clean-shaven
life.
TED MORRIS.
I wish we could get Ben Dixon to shave himself.
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes; that would be the thing.
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes; but it's no good talking about that. He's hardly likely to do
that to please us. No, this is a matter that we must go to work about
cautiously. Now, you come with me, Jack, and we will talk it over with
young Travers (_moving with Jack towards door_). You stop here, Ted.
We'd better not be all together. It will look as if something was
the matter and we must keep the thing quiet. (_Cherry and Jack go off
talking_.)
TED MORRIS.
(_Crosses, and sitting on the easy chair enjoying the paper._) By Jove!
Old Ben at the Aquarium--drunk and----
(_Ben Dixon is heard whistling "There is a happy land." Ted, hearing
him, pushes paper under cushion. Crosses to fire whistling "Get your
hair cut." Enter Ben Dixon._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Looking about._) You haven't seen my spectacles anywhere, have you,
Ted?
TED MORRIS.
No, Mr. Ben Dixon. Did you leave them here?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Yes, I wish you'd look on the garden seat. I may have left them there.
Do you mind?
TED MORRIS.
Oh, certainly. (_Goes out through window. Ben Dixon hastily darts to
chair and, moving cushion, finds paper._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Seizing it with a cry of joy_.) Ah! So it _was_ here all the time.
Theo must have slipped it there when he heard Bella coming. What a bit
of luck. They've none of them seen it. (_Looking at it_) Oh, it is like
me. If I could only disguise myself for a little while, till----
(_Re-enter Ted. Ben Dixon hides paper under his coat._)
TED MORRIS.
No, I can't see them.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Oh, it's all right, my dear boy. I've found them, thanks. They were in
my pocket all the time. So silly of me, wasn't it? (_Laughs, and goes
out, whistling._)
(_Enter Primrose by window._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Looking in_) Business over?
TED MORRIS.
For the present--could it stay for a moment when pleasure in the person
of Miss Deane presents herself? (_Bows._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Curtseying._) I thank you, fair sir. How very agreeable we've become
all of a sudden.
TED MORRIS.
"Become!" Ain't I always agreeable?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No. Not when you talk about going away and never coming back, and say
you hope it will be a long while before you see any of us again.
TED MORRIS.
I--I don't think I said I "hoped" it would be a long while. I think I
said I _feared_ it might be.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, well, it's all the same. You needn't go away at all unless you
liked.
TED MORRIS.
(_Apologetically._) You see my examination is coming on pretty soon now.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Well, anyhow, you could come down again afterwards. (_A pause--pettishly
as she crosses to window._) But there! of course if you want to avoid
any chance of ever seeing any of us any more why---- (Turns her back on
him.)
TED MORRIS.
(_Speaking low and earnestly._) It would be better perhaps if I did
avoid seeing---- one of you any more.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, what an unkind thing to say! Which one? Why?
TED MORRIS.
Because I'm afraid that if I saw very much more of her----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Of _her!_
TED MORRIS.
Of her--I might make a fool of myself. (_A pause_.)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Who shows she fully understands his drift--coquettishly._) In--in any
particular sort of away?
TED MORRIS.
In a way that men often do make fools of themselves, Miss Deane. Perhaps
we'd better change the conversation.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I--_I_ think it's ra-rather interesting.
TED MORRIS.
(_With sudden eager excitement._) Miss Deane--Primrose--do you mean that
you could ever----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Without._) Primrose--Primrose. (_Ted stops. Primrose starts, and seems
irritated._) (_Calling louder_.) Primrose.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Calling._) Yes, Mrs. Ben Dixon, I'm coming. (_To Ted_.) Don't go away.
I'll be back again in a minute. (_Runs off._)
TED MORRIS.
By Jove! Am I awake or dreaming! She _must_ have meant she----
(Enter Theo.)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_He is smoking a cigarette._) Oh, I thought Primrose was here.
TED MORRIS.
Yes. She--she'll be back in a minute, I think.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Oh. Just give her that. (_Hands him a letter._) Tell her not to be
alarmed at the seal. It's only from her guardian--the Lord Chancellor.
TED MORRIS.
The Lord Chancellor!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes; didn't you know? She's a ward in Chancery.
TED MORRIS.
No--I--I thought it was only heiresses who were wards in Chancery.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Well, you'd call her an heiress, I suppose. She'll be worth about two
thousand a year. (_A pause._)
TED MORRIS.
(_With a slight laugh, and by a great effort, speaking in natural easy
tones._) I--I thought she was a poor little penniless orphan--dependent
on Aunt Bella.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
No; she doesn't suggest the heiress a bit, does she? Just as well she
doesn't, perhaps. One doesn't have to be keeping such a continual
look out for the fortune-hunting crew. She'll want to see me about that
letter, I expect. I shall be down on the Putting Green. (_Goes out._)
TED MORRIS.
(_Bitterly._) Yes, I was dreaming. This is the awakening. An heiress
with two thousand a year, and I with hardly a second coat to my back! A
smart pair they'd have said we were--Nelly and I. Damn the money!
(_Enter Primrose._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Running over to him._) I haven't been long, have I?
TED MORRIS.
(_Turning away from her._) Haven't you? It's seemed a long time.
(_Handing her the letter without looking at her._) I think Theodore
wants to see you about this letter. He's in the garden.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_She takes the letter but hardly glances at it._) Don't--don't you
want to see me? You--you were going to ask me if--if I meant--something
or other.
TED MORRIS.
(_Desperately._) Miss Deane, I--I acted a little strangely just now.
Please try to forget it. I--I don't think I quite knew what I was doing.
PRIMROSE DEANE
I will try to forget it, Mr. Morris.
(_Enter Mrs. Ben Dixon and Jack_.)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_As they come on_.) Well, drat the boy, you'll stop and have a cup of
tea, and a bit of seed cake. You've got time for that?
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, I won't say no to that.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Um--well, it's surprising that you don't. (_To Primrose._) Ring the
bell, dear, and let's have some tea up. Lord help the child, what's the
matter with _you?_
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Nothing, Mrs. Ben Dixon.
(_Cherry and Nelly enter._)
MRS. BEN DIXON,
For goodness sake, look it then. There's no need for the whole house to
be like a funeral party. Ted, do go and find Theodore. That tongue of
his will be of some use for once in a way. Tell him that if he'll come
in he can have all the conversation to himself--that ought to bring him.
(_Ted goes out by window_.) We'll have _somebody_ cheerful about.
NELLY MORRIS.
Shall I see to the tea, aunt? You are looking so worried.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
No--no, child. Let me be doing something, then
I don't think. What's brought that artist friend of yours down in such a
hurry? There's nothing wrong with Ted, is there?
NELLY MORRIS.
No--I don't think so, aunt.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Um--just the afternoon for it to happen if there was. Troubles always
come together in this world, and they don't even make the usual
reduction for taking a quantity.
(Enter Theodore and Ted by window.)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Want me, mater?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, I do--look at us all. Did you ever see a collection of people
looking more as if they'd just been fined forty shillings all round?
We want some of your light philosophical conversation. Make us a bit
cheerful.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Looks round._) Too big an order for me, mater. You want a soothing and
elevating influence here. Where's Ben?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Don't you try to irritate me with that step-father of yours, Theodore,
or you and I----
(Enter servant.)
SERVANT.
Did you ring, ma'am?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, bring the tea, and tell Davis to----
(_Enter Ben Dixon. He has shaved himself. He enters singing. The servant
remains, staring at his master._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Staring aghast at Ben Dixon._) Lord save us all! What's the man done
to himself!
(_Cherry, Jack, and Ted have been talking together. They have not yet
looked at Ben Dixon. On hearing this, Cherry starts and looks rounds
then whips out the photo of Wheedles from his pocket, and looks from it
to Ben Dixon. Ted and Jack look over Cherry's shoulder._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Sweetly._) Only shaved, Sweety. (_Looks round at them all_). How do
you like me?
TED MORRIS.
(_In an excited whisper_). By Jove! it _is_----
ADAM CHERRY.
Quiet.
Curtain.
THE THIRD ACT.
_Cherry's sitting-room at Mrs. Wheedles'. A comfortable, old-fashioned
room furnished in good substantial style. Cherry and Mrs. Wheedles
discovered. Cherry smoking pipe in his easy chair before fire. Mrs.
Wheedles sits uncomfortably on extreme edge of the other easy-chair._
MRS. WHEEDLES.
And you really think, he'll come?
ADAM CHERRY.
Tolerably sure of it, Mrs. Wheedles. I flatter myself I baited the
hook pretty artfully. I wrote him that if he could call here about four
o'clock to-day I could introduce him to a lady who I knew took great
interest in his schemes, and that I thought some advantage might result
from the meeting. (_Chuckles_.) And so I hope it will.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
And he said he would?
ADAM CHERRY.
He replied that he would not allow such an opportunity for benefiting
the human race to escape him for worlds, and that he would be here to
the minute.
MRS. WHEEDLES,
(_Glances at clock over mantel_.) It's twenty minutes to four now.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Looks at his watch._) Ah, that's five minutes fast. Mrs. Ben Dixon's
rather late though. She said she'd be here at half-past three.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
How has she taken it, poor woman?
ADAM CHERRY.
Well, of course it's a very unpleasant position for her, but, between
ourselves, I fancy she will be very glad if it turns out that he _is_
your husband, and, consequently, not hers. I expect that's why she's so
anxious to be in the "show," as she calls it. She says she wants to see
the truth for herself, and fix him down.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
She hasn't said a word to him about it, I suppose?
ADAM CHERRY.
She hasn't had a chance--yet. They quarrelled over money matters
(_groans to himself_) and other things, and she left him before she ever
heard of this.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Ah, she could never really have loved him, Mr. Cherry. (_Wipes away a
tear._)
ADAM CHERRY.
I'm inclined to agree with you there, Mrs. Wheedles. (_He crosses to
window, looking at his watch._) I wish she'd come.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Crying._) Such a good man as he was--before he went wrong. (_Bell
heard._) She starts up. Oh Lord, that's him, I feel it in my bones.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Looking out of window._) Your bones have misled you, Mrs. Wheedles.
It's Mr. Travers, and--(_looking out further_), no, it isn't big enough
for Mrs. Ben Dixon.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Oh dear, it gave me quite a spasm. I wish I didn't feel in such a
fluster.
(_The door at back is opened by a maid, and Theodore enters followed by
Primrose. Mrs. Wheedles slips quietly out._)
ADAM CHERRY
(_Greeting Theodore._) Where's Mrs. Ben Dixon?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
She'll be here in a minute. It occurred to her when we got to Paddington
Station that she hadn't had any lunch, and that this wasn't a scene to
be gone through on an empty stomach. So we left her there laying in
a beefsteak and a bottle of stout. Miss Deane has come with us. She
thought she would like to see Nelly.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Advancing and shaking hands with Cherry._) Yes, Mr. Cherry. Do you
know if she's in?
ADAM CHERRY.
She's upstairs all alone, my dear. She'll be so pleased to see you, I
know.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, I'll run up to her, then. (_Moves towards door._)
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, do, my dear. (_Following her._) Let me----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Stopping him._) No, don't trouble, Mr. Cherry. I know my way. (_Opens
door, and goes out._)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I say--I suppose there's no where in this room where I could hide, is
there? (_Looks round_.) It will be a lovely scene, you know--quite a
family group, Ben and his two wives. (_Enthusiastically_.) Why, such an
opportunity may not occur again for years. Can't you put me behind these
curtains? (_He is by window_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, my dear boy, impossible!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Um! 'Twould be awkward I suppose. Pity! (_hopefully,_) What sort of a
keyhole have you got? (_Crossing to door, Right._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Laughs._) Not much good to you, I'm afraid. You can't get the key out.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Who has opened the door--the key being outside--trying it._) Ah, no
encouragement to an artist anywhere here. I shall have to pump the scene
out of the mater afterwards, and her accounts are always so painfully
idealistic.
(_Ted enters._)
Hulloa, Ted!
TED MORRIS.
Hulloa! You here?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes. (_Looks at him._) You've been ploughed then?
TED MORRIS.
Who told you?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
You did, by your face. What does it feel like?
TED MORRIS.
(_With a cynical laugh_) Do you want to make notes?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Taking out his note-book_) If you are sure you don't mind.
TED MORRIS.
Not at all. Delighted to be of service to the cause of literature. Now
let me see how does a man feel. Well, at first he feels sick and dazed.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Writing_) Yes.
TED MORRIS.
And then he gets mad and curses himself and the world and everybody in
it; and feels----
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Half a minute, old chap, I am not a typewriter.
TED MORRIS.
----and feels that he'd like to go to the devil only he hasn't got the
travelling expenses.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Quite right. The expensiveness of vice I have always considered to be
virtue's greatest safeguard. Poor people can only afford to go as far as
the dogs. Yes?
TED MORRIS.
Oh, and then--oh, then he feels very weary of the whole thing and wishes
that he could get away from it all, and go to sleep--for a long time.
(_Throws himself in chair._)
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, come, you mustn't despair. You've only been "spun," as you fellows
call it, for a few months.
TED MORRIS.
Oh, no, it's nothing very terrible to be "spun," if you've got anything
to spin on.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes--a top spins best when it's full of air--a man doesn't.
ADAM CHERRY.
You see, you won't let anybody help you, Ted.
TED MORRIS.
(_Rising._) Oh, that's only my nonsense, Mr. Cherry. We're not paupers.
(_To Theodore._) Are you coming upstairs to see Nelly?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes, yes; I'll come up with you now. How is she?
TED MORRIS.
Oh, not too jolly. You'll be able to make a few notes. (_They go out_.)
ADAM CHERRY.