JILL. He says there'll be no world fit to live in till we get rid
of the old. We must make them climb a tall tree, and shake them off
it.
HILLCRIST. [Drily] Oh! he says that!
JILL. Otherwise, with the way they stand on each other's rights,
they'll spoil the garden for the young.
HILLCRIST. Does his father agree?
JILL. Oh! Rolf doesn't talk to him, his mouth's too large. Have
you ever seen it, Dodo?
HILLCRIST. Of course.
JILL. It's considerable, isn't it? Now yours is--reticent,
darling. [Rumpling his hair.]
HILLCRIST. It won't be in a minute. Do you realise that I've got
gout?
JILL. Poor ducky! How long have we been here, Dodo?
HILLCRIST. Since Elizabeth, anyway.
JILL. [Looking at his foot] It has its drawbacks. D'you think
Hornblower had a father? I believe he was spontaneous. But, Dodo,
why all this--this attitude to the Hornblowers?
[She purses her lips and makes a gesture as of pushing persons
away.]
HILLCRIST. Because they're pushing.
JILL. That's only because we are, as mother would say, and they're
not--yet. But why not let them be?
HILLCRIST. You can't.
JILL. Why?
HILLCRIST. It takes generations to learn to live and let live,
Jill. People like that take an ell when you give them an inch.
JILL. But if you gave them the ell, they wouldn't want the inch.
Why should it all be such a skin game?
HILLCRIST. Skin game? Where do you get your lingo?
JILL. Keep to the point, Dodo.
HILLCRIST. Well, Jill, all life's a struggle between people at
different stages of development, in different positions, with
different amounts of social influence and property. And the only
thing is to have rules of the game and keep them. New people like
the Hornblowers haven't learnt those rules; their only rule is to
get all they can.
JILL. Darling, don't prose. They're not half as bad as you think.
HILLCRIST. Well, when I sold Hornblower Longmeadow and the
cottages, I certainly found him all right. All the same, he's got
the cloven hoof. [Warming up] His influence in Deepwater is
thoroughly bad; those potteries of his are demoralising--the whole
atmosphere of the place is changing. It was a thousand pities he
ever came here and discovered that clay. He's brought in the modern
cutthroat spirit.
JILL. Cut our throat spirit, you mean. What's your definition of a
gentleman, Dodo?
HILLCRIST. [Uneasily] Can't describe--only feel it.
JILL. Oh! Try!
HILLCRIST. Well--er--I suppose you might say--a man who keeps his
form and doesn't let life scupper him out of his standards.
JILL. But suppose his standards are low?
HILLCRIST. [With some earnestness] I assume, of course, that he's
honest and tolerant, gentle to the weak, and not self-seeking.
JILL. Ah! self-seeking? But aren't we all, Dodo? I am.
HILLCRIST. [With a smile] You!
JILL. [Scornfully] Oh! yes--too young to know.
HILLCRIST. Nobody knows till they're under pretty heavy fire, Jill.
JILL. Except, of course, mother.
HILLCRIST. How do you mean--mother?
JILL. Mother reminds me of England according to herself--always
right whatever she does.
HILLCRIST. Ye-es. Your mother it perhaps--the perfect woman.
JILL. That's what I was saying. Now, no one could call you
perfect, Dodo. Besides, you've got gout.
HILLCRIST. Yes; and I want Fellows. Ring that bell.
JILL. [Crossing to the bell] Shall I tell you my definition of a
gentleman? A man who gives the Hornblower his due. [She rings the
bell] And I think mother ought to call on them. Rolf says old
Hornblower resents it fearfully that she's never made a sign to
Chloe the three years she's been here.
HILLCRIST. I don't interfere with your mother in such matters. She
may go and call on the devil himself if she likes.
JILL. I know you're ever so much better than she is.
HILLCRIST. That's respectful.
JILL. You do keep your prejudices out of your phiz. But mother
literally looks down her nose. And she never forgives an "h."
They'd get the "hell" from her if they took the "hinch."
HILLCRIST. Jill-your language!
JILL. Don't slime out of it, Dodo. I say, mother ought to call on
the Hornblowers. [No answer.] Well?
HILLCRIST. My dear, I always let people have the last word. It
makes them--feel funny. Ugh! My foot![Enter FELLOWS, Left.]
Fellows, send into the village and get another bottle of this stuff.
JILL. I'll go, darling.
[She blow him a kiss, and goes out at the window.]
HILLCRIST. And tell cook I've got to go on slops. This foot's
worse.
FELLOWS. [Sympathetic] Indeed, sir.
HILLCRIST. My third go this year, Fellows.
FELLOWS. Very annoying, sir.
HILLCRIST. Ye-es. Ever had it?
FELLOWS. I fancy I have had a twinge, sir.
HILLCRIST. [Brightening] Have you? Where?
FELLOWS. In my cork wrist, sir.
HILLCRIST. Your what?
FELLOWS. The wrist I draw corks with.
HILLCRIST. [With a cackle] You'd have had more than a twinge if
you'd lived with my father. H'm!
FELLOWS. Excuse me, sir--Vichy water corks, in my experience, are
worse than any wine.
HILLCRIST. [Ironically] Ah! The country's not what it was, is it,
Fellows?
FELLOWS. Getting very new, sir.
HILLCRIST. [Feelingly] You're right. Has Dawker come?
FELLOWS. Not yet, sir. The Jackmans would like to see you, sir.
HILLCRIST. What about?
FELLOWS. I don't know, sir.
HILLCRIST. Well, show them in.
FELLOWS. [Going] Yes, sir.
[HILLCRIST turns his swivel chair round. The JACKMANS come in.
He, a big fellow about fifty, in a labourer's dress, with eyes
which have more in then than his tongue can express; she, a
little woman with a worn face, a bright, quick glance, and a
tongue to match.]
HILLCRIST. Good morning, Mrs. Jackman! Morning, Jackman! Haven't
seen you for a long time. What can I do?
[He draws in foot, and breath, with a sharp hiss.]
HILLCRIST. [In a down-hearted voice] We've had notice to quit,
sir.
HILLCRIST. [With emphasis] What!
JACKMAN. Got to be out this week.
MRS. J. Yes, sir, indeed.
HILLCRIST. Well, but when I sold Longmeadow and the cottages, it
was on the express understanding that there was to be no disturbance
of tenancies:
MRS. J. Yes, sir; but we've all got to go. Mrs. 'Arvey, and the
Drews, an' us, and there isn't another cottage to be had anywhere in
Deepwater.
HILLCRIST. I know; I want one for my cowman. This won't do at all.
Where do you get it from?
JACKMAN. Mr. 'Ornblower, 'imself, air. Just an hour ago. He come
round and said: "I'm sorry; I want the cottages, and you've got to
clear."
MRS. J. [Bitterly] He's no gentleman, sir; he put it so brisk. We
been there thirty years, and now we don't know what to do. So I
hope you'll excuse us coming round, sir.
HILLCRIST. I should think so, indeed! H'm! [He rises and limps
across to the fireplace on his stick. To himself] The cloven hoof.
By George! this is a breach of faith. I'll write to him, Jackman.
Confound it! I'd certainly never have sold if I'd known he was
going to do this.
MRS. J. No, sir, I'm sure, sir. They do say it's to do with the
potteries. He wants the cottages for his workmen.
HILLCRIST. [Sharply] That's all very well, but he shouldn't have
led me to suppose that he would make no change.
JACKMAN. [Heavily] They talk about his havin' bought the Centry to
gut up more chimneys there, and that's why he wants the cottages.
HINT. The Centry! Impossible!
[Mrs. J. Yes, air; it's such a pretty spot-looks beautiful
from here. [She looks out through the window] Loveliest spot
in all Deepwater, I always say. And your father owned it, and
his father before 'im. It's a pity they ever sold it, sir,
beggin' your pardon.]
HILLCRIST. The Centry! [He rings the bell.]
Mrs. J. [Who has brightened up] I'm glad you're goin' to stop it,
sir. It does put us about. We don't know where to go. I said to
Mr. Hornblower, I said, "I'm sure Mr. Hillcrist would never 'eve
turned us out." An' 'e said: "Mr. Hillcrist be----" beggin' your
pardon, sir. "Make no mistake," 'e said, "you must go, missis." He
don't even know our name; an' to come it like this over us! He's a
dreadful new man, I think, with his overridin notions. And sich a
heavyfooted man, to look at. [With a sort of indulgent contempt]
But he's from the North, they say.
[FELLOWS has entered, Left.]
HILLCRIST. Ask Mrs. Hillcrist if she'll come.
FELLOWS. Very good, sir.
HILLCRIST. Is Dawker here?
FELLOWS. Not yet, sir.
HILLCRIST. I want to see him at once.
[FELLOWS retires.]
JACKMAN. Mr. Hornblower said he was comin' on to see you, sir. So
we thought we'd step along first.
HILLCRIST. Quite right, Jackman.
MRS. J. I said to Jackman: "Mr. Hillcrist'll stand up for us, I
know. He's a gentleman," I said. "This man," I said, "don't care
for the neighbourhood, or the people; he don't care for anything so
long as he makes his money, and has his importance. You can't
expect it, I suppose," I said; [Bitterly] "havin' got rich so
sudden." The gentry don't do things like that.
HILLCRIST. [Abstracted] Quite, Mrs. Jackman, quite!
[To himself] The Centry! No!
[MRS. HILLCRIST enters. A well-dressed woman, with a firm,
clear-cut face.]
Oh! Amy! Mr. and Mrs. Jackman turned out of their cottage, and
Mrs. Harvey, and the Drews. When I sold to Hornblower, I stipulated
that they shouldn't be.
MRS. J. Our week's up on Saturday, ma'am, and I'm sure I don't know
where we shall turn, because of course Jackman must be near his
work, and I shall lose me washin' if we have to go far.
HILLCRIST. [With decision] You leave it to me, Mrs. Jackman. Good
morning! Morning, Jackman! Sorry I can't move with this gout.
MRS. J. [For them both] I'm sure we're very sorry, sir. Good
morning, sir. Good morning, ma'am; and thank you kindly. [They go
out.]
HILLCRIST. Turning people out that have been there thirty years. I
won't have it. It's a breach of faith.
MRS. H. Do you suppose this Hornblower will care two straws about
that Jack?
HILLCRIST. He must, when it's put to him, if he's got any decent
feeling.
MRS. H. He hasn't.
HILLCRIST. [Suddenly] The Jackmans talk of his having bought the
Centry to put up more chimneys.
MRS. H. Never! [At the window, looking out] Impossible! It would
ruin the place utterly; besides cutting us off from the Duke's. Oh,
no! Miss Mullins would never sell behind our backs.
HILLCRIST. Anyway I must stop his turning these people out.
Mrs. H. [With a little smile, almost contemptuous] You might have
known he'd do something of the sort. You will imagine people are
like yourself, Jack. You always ought to make Dawker have things in
black and white.
HILLCRIST. I said quite distinctly: "Of course you won't want to
disturb the tenancies; there's a great shortage of cottages."
Hornblower told me as distinctly that he wouldn't. What more do you
want?
Mrs. H. A man like that thinks of nothing but the short cut to his
own way. [Looking out of the window towards the rise] If he buys
the Centry and puts up chimneys, we simply couldn't stop here.
HILLCRIST. My father would turn in his grave.
MRS. H. It would have been more useful if he'd not dipped the
estate, and sold the Centry. This Hornblower hates us; he thinks we
turn up our noses at him.
HILLCRIST. As we do, Amy.
MRS. H. Who wouldn't? A man without traditions, who believes in
nothing but money and push.
HILLCRIST. Suppose he won't budge, can we do anything for the
Jackmans?
MRS. H. There are the two rooms Beaver used to have, over the
stables.
FELLOWS. Mr. Dawker, sir.
[DAWKERS is a short, square, rather red-faced terrier of a man,
in riding clothes and gaiters.]
HILLCRIST. Ah! Dawker, I've got gout again.
DAWKER. Very sorry, sir. How de do, ma'am?
HILLCRIST. Did you meet the Jackmans?
DAWKERS. Yeh.
[He hardly ever quite finishes a word, seeming to snap of their
tails.]
HILLCRIST. Then you heard?
DAWKER. [Nodding] Smart man, Hornblower; never lets grass grow.
HILLCRIST. Smart?
DAWKER. [Grinning] Don't do to underrate your neighbours.
MRS. H. A cad--I call him.
DAWKER. That's it, ma'am-got all the advantage.
HILLCRIST. Heard anything about the Centry, Dawker?
DAWKER. Hornblower wants to buy.
HILLCRIST. Miss Mullins would never sell, would she?
DAWKER. She wants to.
HILLCRIST. The deuce she does!
DAWKER. He won't stick at the price either.
MRS. H. What's it worth, Dawker?
DAWKER. Depends on what you want it for.
MRS. H. He wants it for spite; we want it for sentiment.
DAWKER. [Grinning] Worth what you like to give, then; but he's a
rich man.
MRS. H. Intolerable!
DAWKER. [To HILLCRIST] Give me your figure, sir. I'll try the old
lady before he gets at her.
HILLCRIST. [Pondering] I don't want to buy, unless there's nothing
else for it. I should have to raise the money on the estate; it
won't stand much more. I can't believe the fellow would be such a
barbarian. Chimneys within three hundred yards, right in front of
this house! It's a nightmare.
MRS. H. You'd much better let Dawker make sure, Jack.
HILLCRIST. [Uncomfortable] Jackman says Hornblower's coming round
to see me. I shall put it to him.
DAWKER. Make him keener than ever. Better get in first.
HILLCRIST. Ape his methods!--Ugh! Confound this gout! [He gets
back to his chair with difficulty] Look here, Dawker, I wanted to
see you about gates----
FELLOWS. [Entering] Mr. Hornblower.
[HORNBLOWER enters-a man of medium, height, thoroughly
broadened, blown out, as it were, by success. He has thick,
coarse, dark hair, just grizzled, wry bushy eyebrow, a wide
mouth. He wears quite ordinary clothes, as if that department
were in charge of someone who knew about such, things. He has
a small rose in his buttonhole, and carries a Homburg hat,
which one suspects will look too small on his head.]
HORNBLOWER. Good morning! good morning! How are ye, Dawker? Fine
morning! Lovely weather!
[His voice has a curious blend in its tone of brass and oil,
and an accent not quite Scotch nor quite North country.]
Haven't seen ye for a long time, Hillcrist.
HILLCRIST. [Who has risen] Not since I sold you Longmeadow and
those cottages, I believe.
HORNBLOWER. Dear me, now! that's what I came about.
HILLCRIST. [Subsiding again into his chair] Forgive me! Won't you
sit down?
HORNBLOWER. [Not sitting] Have ye got gout? That's unfortunate.
I never get it. I've no disposition that way. Had no ancestors,
you see. Just me own drinkin' to answer for.
HILLCRIST. You're lucky.
HORNBLOWER. I wonder if Mrs. Hillcrist thinks that! Am I lucky to
have no past, ma'am? Just the future?
MRS. H. You're sure you have the future, Mr. Hornblower?
HORNBLOWER. [With a laugh] That's your aristocratic rapier thrust.
You aristocrats are very hard people underneath your manners. Ye
love to lay a body out. But I've got the future all right.
HILLCRIST. [Meaningly] I've had the Dackmans here, Mr. Hornblower.
HORNBLOWER. Who are they--man with the little spitfire wife?
HILLCRIST. They're very excellent, good people, and they've been in
that cottage quietly thirty years.
HORNBLOWER. [Throwing out his forefinger--a favourite gesture] Ah!
ye've wanted me to stir ye up a bit. Deepwater needs a bit o' go
put into it. There's generally some go where I am. I daresay you
wish there'd been no "come." [He laughs].
MRS. H. We certainly like people to keep their word, Mr.
Hornblower.
HILLCRIST. Amy!
HORNBLOWER. Never mind, Hillcrist; takes more than that to upset
me.
[MRS. HILLCRIST exchanges a look with DAWKER who slips out
unobserved.]
HILLCRIST. You promised me, you know, not to change the tenancies.
HORNBLOWER. Well, I've come to tell ye that I have. I wasn't
expecting to have the need when I bought. Thought the Duke would
sell me a bit down there; but devil a bit he will; and now I must
have those cottages for my workmen. I've got important works, ye
know.
HILLCRIST. [Getting heated] The Jackmans have their importance
too, sir. Their heart's in that cottage.
HORNBLOWER. Have a sense of proportion, man. My works supply
thousands of people, and my, heart's in them. What's more, they
make my fortune. I've got ambitions--I'm a serious man. Suppose I
were to consider this and that, and every little potty objection--
where should I get to?--nowhere!
HILLCRIST. All the same, this sort of thing isn't done, you know.
HORNBLOWER. Not by you because ye've got no need to do it. Here ye
are, quite content on what your fathers made for ye. Ye've no
ambitions; and ye want other people to have none. How d'ye think
your fathers got your land?
HILLCRIST. [Who has risen] Not by breaking their word.
HORNBLOWER. [Throwing out his, finger] Don't ye believe it. They
got it by breaking their word and turnin' out Jackmans, if that's
their name, all over the place.
MRS. H. That's an insult, Mr. Hornblower.
HORNBLOWER. No; it's a repartee. If ye think so much of these
Jackmans, build them a cottage yourselves; ye've got the space.
HILLCRIST. That's beside the point. You promised me, and I sold on
that understanding.
HORNBLOWER. And I bought on the understandin' that I'd get some
more land from the Duke.
HILLCRIST. That's nothing to do with me.
HORNBLOWER. Ye'll find it has; because I'm going to have those
cottages.
HILLCRIST. Well, I call it simply----
[He checks himself.]
HORNBLOWER. Look here, Hillcrist, ye've not had occasion to
understand men like me. I've got the guts, and I've got the money;
and I don't sit still on it. I'm going ahead because I believe in
meself. I've no use for sentiment and that sort of thing. Forty of
your Jackmans aren't worth me little finger.
HILLCRIST. [Angry] Of all the blatant things I ever heard said!
HORNBLOWER. Well, as we're speaking plainly, I've been thinkin'.
Ye want the village run your oldfashioned way, and I want it run
mine. I fancy there's not room for the two of us here.
MRS. H. When are you going?
HORNBLOWER. Never fear, I'm not going.
HILLCRIST. Look here, Mr. Hornblower--this infernal gout makes me
irritable--puts me at a disadvantage. But I should be glad if you'd
kindly explain yourself.
HORNBLOWER. [With a great smile] Ca' canny; I'm fra' the North.
HILLCRIST. I'm told you wish to buy the Centry and put more of your
chimneys up there, regardless of the fact [He Points through the
window] that it would utterly ruin the house we've had for
generations, and all our pleasure here.
HORNBLOWER. How the man talks! Why! Ye'd think he owned the sky,
because his fathers built him a house with a pretty view, where he's
nothing to do but live. It's sheer want of something to do that
gives ye your fine sentiments, Hillcrist.
HILLCRIST. Have the goodness not to charge me with idleness.
Dawker--where is he?----[He shows the bureau] When you do the
drudgery of your works as thoroughly as I do that of my estate----
Is it true about the Centry?
HORNBLOWER. Gospel true. If ye want to know, my son Chearlie is
buyin' it this very minute.
MRS. H. [Turning with a start] What do you say?
HORNBLOWER. Ay, he's with the old lady she wants to sell, an'
she'll get her price, whatever it is.
HILLCRIST. [With deep anger] If that isn't a skin game, Mr.
Hornblower, I don't know what is.
HORNBLOWER. Ah! Ye've got a very nice expression there. "Skin
game!" Well, bad words break no bones, an' they're wonderful for
hardenin' the heart. If it wasn't for a lady's presence, I could
give ye a specimen or two.
MRS. H. Oh! Mr. Hornblower, that need not stop you, I'm sure.
HORNBLOWER. Well, and I don't know that it need. Ye're an
obstruction--the like of you--ye're in my path. And anyone in my
path doesn't stay there long; or, if he does, he stays there on my
terms. And my terms are chimneys in the Centry where I need 'em.
It'll do ye a power of good, too, to know that ye're not almighty.
HILLCRIST. And that's being neighbourly!
HORNBLOWER. And how have ye tried bein' neighbourly to me? If I
haven't a wife, I've got a daughter-in-law. Have Ye celled on her,
ma'am? I'm new, and ye're an old family. Ye don't like me, ye
think I'm a pushin' man. I go to chapel, an' ye don't like that.
I make things and I sell them, and ye don't like that. I buy land,
and ye don't like that. It threatens the view from your windies.
Well, I don't lie you, and I'm not goin' to put up with your
attitude. Ye've had things your own way too long, and now ye're not
going to have them any longer.
HILLCRIST. Will you hold to your word over those cottages?
HORNBLOWER. I'm goin' to have the cottages. I need them, and more
besides, now I'm to put up me new works.
HILLCRIST. That's a declaration of war.
HORNBLOWER. Ye never said a truer word. It's one or the other of
us, and I rather think it's goin' to be me. I'm the risin' and
you're the settin' sun, as the poet says.
HILLCRIST. [Touching the bell] We shall see if you can ride
rough-shod like this. We used to have decent ways of going about
things here. You want to change all that. Well, we shall do our
damnedest to stop you. [To FELLOWS at the door] Are the Jackmans
still in the house? Ask them to be good enough to come in.
HORNBLOWER. [With the first sign of uneasiness] I've seen these
people. I've nothing more to say to them. I told 'em I'd give 'em
five pounds to cover their moving.
HILLCRIST. It doesn't occur to you that people, however humble,
like to have some say in their own fate?
HORNBLOWER. I never had any say in mine till I had the brass, and
nobody ever will. It's all hypocrisy. You county folk are fair
awful hypocrites. Ye talk about good form and all that sort o'
thing. It's just the comfortable doctrine of the man in the saddle;
sentimental varnish. Ye're every bit as hard as I am, underneath.
MRS. H. [Who had been standing very still all this time] You
flatter us.
HORNBLOWER. Not at all. God helps those who 'elp themselves--
that's at the bottom of all religion. I'm goin' to help meself, and
God's going to help me.
MRS. H. I admire your knowledge.
HILLCRIST. We are in the right, and God helps----
HORNBLOWER. Don't ye believe it; ye 'aven't got the energy.
MRS. H. Nor perhaps the conceit.
HORNBLOWER. [Throwing out his forefinger] No, no; 'tisn't conceit
to believe in yourself when ye've got reason to. [The JACKMAN'S
have entered.]
HILLCRIST. I'm very sorry, Mrs. Jackman, but I just wanted you to
realise that I've done my best with this gentleman.
MRS. J. [Doubtfully] Yes, sir. I thought if you spoke for us,
he'd feel different-like.
HORNBLOWER. One cottage is the same as another, missis. I made ye
a fair offer of five pounds for the moving.
JACKMAN. [Slowly] We wouldn't take fifty to go out of that 'ouse.
We brought up three children there, an' buried two from it.
MRS. J. [To MRS. HILLCRIST] We're attached to it like, ma'am.
HILLCRIST. [To HORNBLOWER.] How would you like being turned out of
a place you were fond of?
HORNBLOWER. Not a bit. But little considerations have to give way
to big ones. Now, missis, I'll make it ten pounds, and I'll send a
wagon to shift your things. If that isn't fair--! Ye'd better
accept, I shan't keep it open.
[The JACKMANS look at each other; their faces show deep anger--
and the question they ask each other is which will speak.]
MRS. J. We won't take it; eh, George?
JACKMAN. Not a farden. We come there when we was married.
HORNBLOWER. [Throwing out his finger] Ye're very improvident folk.
HILLCRIST. Don't lecture them, Mr. Hornblower; they come out of
this miles above you.
HORNBLOWER. [Angry] Well, I was going to give ye another week, but
ye'll go out next Saturday; and take care ye're not late, or your
things'll be put out in the rain.
MRS. H. [To MRS. JACKMAN] We'll send down for your things, and you
can come to us for the time being.
[MRS. JACKMAN drops a curtsey; her eyes stab HORNBLOWERS.]
JACKMAN. [Heavily, clenching his fists] You're no gentleman!
Don't put temptation in my way, that's all,
HILLCRIST. [In a low voice] Jackman!
HORNBLOWER. [Triumphantly] Ye hear that? That's your protegee!
Keep out o' my way, me man, or I'll put the police on to ye for
utterin' threats.
HILLCRIST. You'd better go now, Jackman.
[The JACKMANS move to the door.]
MRS. J. [Turning] Maybe you'll repent it some day, sir.
[They go out, MRS. HILLCRIST following.]
HORNBLOWER. We-ell, I'm sorry they're such unreasonable folk. I
never met people with less notion of which side their bread was
buttered.
HILLCRIST. And I never met anyone so pachydermatous.
HORNBLOWER. What's that, in Heaven's name? Ye needn' wrap it up in
long words now your good lady's gone.
HILLCRIST. [With dignity] I'm not going in for a slanging match.
I resent your conduct much too deeply.
HORNBLOWER. Look here, Hillcrist, I don't object to you personally;
ye seem to me a poor creature that's bound to get left with your
gout and your dignity; but of course ye can make yourself very
disagreeable before ye're done. Now I want to be the movin' spirit
here. I'm full of plans. I'm goin' to stand for Parliament; I'm
goin' to make this a prosperous place. I'm a good-matured man if
you'll treat me as such. Now, you take me on as a neighbour and all
that, and I'll manage without chimneys on the Centry. Is it a
bargain? [He holds out his hand.]
HILLCRIST. [Ignoring it] I thought you said you didn't keep your
word when it suited you to break it?
HORNBLOWER. Now, don't get on the high horse. You and me could be
very good friends; but I can be a very nasty enemy. The chimneys
will not look nice from that windie, ye know.
HILLCRIST. [Deeply angry] Mr. Hornblower, if you think I'll take
your hand after this Jackman business, you're greatly mistaken. You
are proposing that I shall stand in with you while you tyrannise
over the neighbourhood. Please realise that unless you leave those
tenancies undisturbed as you said you would, we don't know each
other.
HORNBLOWER. Well, that won't trouble me much. Now, ye'd better
think it over; ye've got gout and that makes ye hasty. I tell ye
again: I'm not the man to make an enemy of. Unless ye're friendly,
sure as I stand here I'll ruin the look of your place.
[The toot of a car is heard.]
There's my car. I sent Chearlie and his wife in it to buy the
Centry. And make no mistake--he's got it in his packet. It's your
last chance, Hillcrist. I'm not averse to you as a man; I think
ye're the best of the fossils round here; at least, I think ye can
do me the most harm socially. Come now!
[He holds out his hand again.]
HILLCRIST. Not if you'd bought the Centry ten times over. Your
ways are not mine, and I'll have nothing to do with you.
HORNBLOWER. [Very angry] Really! Is that so? Very well. Now
ye're goin' to learn something, an' it's time ye did. D'ye realise
that I'm 'very nearly round ye? [He draws a circle slowly in the
air] I'm at Uphill, the works are here, here's Longmeadow, here's
the Centry that I've just bought, there's only the Common left to
give ye touch with the world. Now between you and the Common
there's the high road.
I come out on the high road here to your north, and I shall come out
on it there to your west. When I've got me new works up on the
Centry, I shall be makin' a trolley track between the works up to
the road at both ends, so any goods will be running right round ye.
How'll ye like that for a country place?
[For answer HILLCRIST, who is angry beyond the power of speech,
walks, forgetting to use his stick, up to the French window.
While he stands there, with his back to HORNBLOWER, the door L.
is flung open, and Jim enters, preceding CHARLES, his wife
CHLOE, and ROLF. CHARLES is a goodish-looking, moustached
young man of about twenty-eight, with a white rim to the collar
of his waistcoat, and spats. He has his hand behind CHLOE'S
back, as if to prevent her turning tail. She is rather a
handsome young woman, with dark eyes, full red lips, and a
suspicion of powder, a little under-dressed for the country.
ROLF, mho brings up the rear, is about twenty, with an open
face and stiffish butter-coloured hair. JILL runs over to her
father at the window. She has a bottle.]
JILL. [Sotto voce] Look, Dodo, I've brought the lot! Isn't it a
treat, dear Papa? And here's the stuff. Hallo!
[The exclamation is induced by the apprehension that there has
been a row. HILLCRIST gives a stiff little bow, remaining
where he is in the window. JILL, stays close to him, staring
from one to the other, then blocks him off and engages him in
conversation. CHARLES has gone up to his father, who has
remained maliciously still, where he delivered his last speech.
CHLOE and ROLF stand awkwardly waiting between the fireplace
and the door.]
HORNBLOWER. Well, Chearlie?
CHARLES. Not got it.
HORNBLOWER. Not!
CHARLES. I'd practically got her to say she'd sell at three
thousand five hundred, when that fellow Dawker turned up.
HORNBLOWER. That bull-terrier of a chap! Why, he was here a while
ago. Oh--ho! So that's it!
CHARLES. I heard him gallop up. He came straight for the old lady,
and got her away. What he said I don't know; but she came back
looking wiser than an owl; said she'd think it over, thought she had
other views.
HORNBLOWER. Did ye tell her she might have her price?
CHARLES. Practically I did.
HORNBLOWER. Well?
CHARLES. She thought it would be fairer to put it up to auction.
There were other enquiries. Oh! She's a leery old bird--reminds me
of one of those pictures of Fate, don't you know.
HORNBLOWER. Auction! Well, if it's not gone we'll get it yet.
That damned little Dawker! I've had a row with Hillcrist.
CHARLES. I thought so.
[They are turning cautiously to look at HILLCRIST, when JILL
steps forward.]
JILL. [Flushed and determined] That's not a bit sporting of you,
Mr. Hornblower.
[At her words ROLE comes forward too.]
HORNBLOWER. Ye should hear both sides before ye say that, missy.
JILL. There isn't another side to turning out the Jackmans after
you'd promised.
HORNBLOWER. Oh! dear me, yes. They don't matter a row of
gingerbread to the schemes I've got for betterin' this
neighbourhood.
JILL. I had been standing up for you; now I won't.
HOUNBLOWER. Dear, dear! What'll become of me?
JILL. I won't say anything about the other thing because I think
it's beneath, dignity to notice it. But to turn poor people out of
their cottages is a shame.
HORNBLOWER. Hoity me!
ROLF. [Suddenly] You haven't been doing that, father?
CHARLES. Shut up, Rolf!
HORNBLOWER. [Turning on ROLF] Ha! Here's a league o' Youth! My
young whipper-snapper, keep your mouth shut and leave it to your
elders to know what's right.
[Under the weight of this rejoinder ROLF stands biting his
lips. Then he throws his head up.]
ROLF. I hate it!
HORNBLOWER. [With real venom] Oh! Ye hate it? Ye can get out of
my house, then.
JILL. Free speech, Mr. Hornblower; don't be violent.
HORNBLOWER. Ye're right, young lady. Ye can stay in my house,
Rolf, and learn manners. Come, Chearlie!
JILL. [Quite softly] Mr. Hornblower!
HILLCRIST. [From the window] Jill!
JILL. [Impatiently] Well, what's the good of it? Life's too short
for rows, and too jolly!
ROLF. Bravo!
HORNBLOWER. [Who has shown a sign of weakening] Now, look here!
I will not have revolt in my family. Ye'll just have to learn that
a man who's worked as I have, who's risen as I have, and who knows
the world, is the proper judge of what's right and wrong. I'll
answer to God for me actions, and not to you young people.
JILL. Poor God!
HORNBLOWER. [Genuinely shocked] Ye blasphemous young thing! [To
ROLF] And ye're just as bad, ye young freethinker. I won't have
it.
HILLCRIST. [Who has come down, Right] Jill, I wish you would
kindly not talk.
JILL. I can't help it.
CHARLES. [Putting his arm through HORNBLOWER'S] Come along,
father! Deeds, not words.
HORNBLOWER. Ay! Deeds!
[MRS. HILLCRIST and DAWKERS have entered by the French window.]
MRS. H. Quite right!
[They all turn and look at her.]
HORNBLOWER. Ah! So ye put your dog on to it. [He throws out his
finger at DAWKERS] Very smart, that--I give ye credit.
MRS. H. [Pointing to CHLOE, who has stood by herself, forgotten and
uncomfortable throughout the scene]
May I ask who this lady is?
[CHLOE turns round startled, and her vanity bag slips down her
dress to the floor.]
HORNBLOWER. No, ma'am, ye may not, for ye know perfectly well.
JILL. I brought her in, mother [She moves to CHLOE's side.]
MRS. H. Will you take her out again, then.
HILLCRIST. Amy, have the goodness to remember----
MRS. H. That this is my house so far as ladies are concerned.
JILL. Mother!
[She looks astonished at CHLOE, who, about to speak, does not,
passing her eyes, with a queer, half-scarred expression, from
MRS. HILLCRIST to DAWKER.]
[To CHLOE] I'm awfully sorry. Come on!
[They go out, Left. ROLF hurries after them.]
CHARLES. You've insulted my wife. Why? What do you mean by it?
[MRS. HILLCRIST simply smiles.]
HILLCRIST. I apologise. I regret extremely. There is no reason
why the ladies of your family or of mine should be involved in our
quarrel. For Heaven's sake, let's fight like gentlemen.
HORNBLOWER. Catchwords--sneers! No; we'll play what ye call a skin
game, Hillcrist, without gloves on; we won't spare each other. Ye
look out for yourselves, for, begod, after this morning I mean
business. And as for you, Dawker, ye sly dog, ye think yourself
very clever; but I'll have the Centry yet. Come, Chearlie!
[They go out, passing JILL, who is coming in again, in the
doorway.]
HILLCRIST. Well, Dawker?
DAWKER. [Grinning] Safe for the moment. The old lady'll put it up
to auction. Couldn't get her to budge from that. Says she don't
want to be unneighbourly to either. But, if you ask me, it's money
she smells!
JILL. [Advancing] Now, mother
MRS. H. Well?
JILL. Why did you insult her?
MRS. H. I think I only asked you to take her out.
JILL. Why? Even if she is Old Combustion's daughter-in-law?
MRS. H. My dear Jill, allow me to judge the sort of acquaintances I
wish to make. [She looks at DAWKER.]
JILL. She's all right. Lots of women powder and touch up their
lips nowadays. I think she's rather a good sort; she was awfully
upset.
MRS. H. Too upset.
JILL. Oh! don't be so mysterious, mother. If you know something,
do spit it out!
MRS. H. Do you wish me to--er--"spit it out," Jack?
HILLCRIST. Dawker, if you don't mind----
[DAWKER, with a nod, passes away out of the French window.]
Jill, be respectful, and don't talk like a bargee.
JILL. It's no good, Dodo. It made me ashamed. It's just as--as
caddish to insult people who haven't said a word, in your own house,
as it is to be--old Hornblower.
MRS. H. You don't know what you're talking about.
HILLCRIST. What's the matter with young Mrs. Hornblower?
MRS. H. Excuse me, I shall keep my thoughts to myself at present.
[She looks coldly at JILL, and goes out through the French
window.]
HILLCRIST. You've thoroughly upset your mother, Jill.
JILL. It's something Dawker's told her; I saw them. I don't like
Dawker, father, he's so common.
HILLCRIST. My dear, we can't all be uncommon. He's got lots of go,
You must apologise to your mother.
JILL. [Shaking-her clubbed hair] They'll make you do things you
don't approve of, Dodo, if you don't look out. Mother's fearfully
bitter when she gets her knife in. If old Hornblower's disgusting,
it's no reason we should be.
HILLCRIST. So you think I'm capable--that's nice, Jill!
JILL. No, no, darling! I only want to warn you solemnly that
mother'll tell you you're fighting fair, no matter what she and
Dawker do.
HILLCRIST. [Smiling] Jill, I don't think I ever saw you so
serious.
JILL. No. Because--[She swallows a lump in her throat] Well--I
was just beginning to enjoy, myself; and now--everything's going to
be bitter and beastly, with mother in that mood. That horrible old
man! Oh, Dodo! Don't let them make you horrid! You're such a
darling. How's your gout, ducky?
HILLCRIST. Better; lot better.
JILL. There, you see! That shows! It's going to be half-interesting
for you, but not for--us.
HILLCRIST. Look here, Jill--is there anything between you and young
what's-his-name--Rolf?
JILL. [Biting her lip] No. But--now it's all spoiled.
HILLCRIST. You can't expect me to regret that.
JILL. I don't mean any tosh about love's young dream; but I do like
being friends. I want to enjoy things, Dodo, and you can't do that
when everybody's on the hate. You're going to wallow in it, and so
shall I--oh! I know I shall!--we shall all wallow, and think of
nothing but "one for his nob."
HILLCRIST. Aren't you fond of your home?
JILL. Of course. I love it.
HILLCRIST. Well, you won't be able to live in it unless we stop
that ruffian. Chimneys and smoke, the trees cut down, piles of
pots. Every kind of abomination. There! [He points] Imagine!
[He points through the French window, as if he could see those
chimneys rising and marring the beauty of the fields] I was born
here, and my father, and his, and his, and his. They loved those
fields, and those old trees. And this barbarian, with his
"improvement" schemes, forsooth! I learned to ride in the Centry
meadows--prettiest spring meadows in the world; I've climbed every
tree there. Why my father ever sold----! But who could have
imagined this? And come at a bad moment, when money's scarce.
JILL. [Cuddling his arm] Dodo!
HILLCRIST. Yes. But you don't love the place as I do, Jill. You
youngsters don't love anything, I sometimes think.
JILL. I do, Dodo, I do!
HILLCRIST. You've got it all before you. But you may live your
life and never find anything so good and so beautiful as this old
home. I'm not going to have it spoiled without a fight.
[Conscious of batting betrayed Sentiment, he walks out at the
French window, passing away to the right. JILL following to
the window, looks. Then throwing back her head, she clasps her
hands behind it.]
JILL. Oh--oh-oh!
[A voice behind her says, "JILL!" She turns and starts back,
leaning against the right lintel of the window. ROLF appears
outside the window from Left.]
Who goes there?
ROLE. [Buttressed against the Left lintel] Enemy--after Chloe's
bag.
JILL. Pass, enemy! And all's ill!
[ROLF passes through the window, and retrieves the vanity bag
from the floor where CHLOE dropped it, then again takes his
stand against the Left lintel of the French window.]
ROLF. It's not going to make any difference, is it?
JILL. You know it is.
ROLF. Sins of the fathers.
JILL. Unto the third and fourth generations. What sin has my
father committed?
ROLF. None, in a way; only, I've often told you I don't see why you
should treat us as outsiders. We don't like it.
JILL. Well, you shouldn't be, then; I mean, he shouldn't be.
ROLF. Father's just as human as your father; he's wrapped up in us,
and all his "getting on" is for us. Would you like to be treated as
your mother treated Chloe? Your mother's set the stroke for the
other big-wigs about here; nobody calls on Chloe. And why not? Why
not? I think it's contemptible to bar people just because they're
new, as you call it, and have to make their position instead of
having it left them.
JILL. It's not because they're new, it's because--if your father
behaved like a gentleman, he'd be treated like one.
ROLF. Would he? I don't believe it. My father's a very able man;
he thinks he's entitled to have influence here. Well, everybody
tries to keep him down. Oh! yes, they do. That makes him mad and
more determined than ever to get his way. You ought to be just,
Jill.
JILL. I am just.
ROLF. No, you're not. Besides, what's it got to do with Charlie
and Chloe? Chloe's particularly harmless. It's pretty sickening
for her. Father didn't expect people to call until Charlie married,
but since----
JILL. I think it's all very petty.
ROLF. It is--a dog-in-the-manger business; I did think you were
above it.
JILL. How would you like to have your home spoiled?
ROLE. I'm not going to argue. Only things don't stand still.
Homes aren't any more proof against change than anything else.
JILL. All right! You come and try and take ours.
ROLF. We don't want to take your home.
JILL. Like the Jackmans'?
ROLF. All right. I see you're hopelessly prejudiced.
[He turns to go.]
JILL. [Just as he is vanishing--softly] Enemy?
ROLF. [Turning] Yes, enemy.
JILL. Before the battle--let's shake hands.
[They move from the lintels and grasp each other's hands in the
centre of the French window.]
CURTAIN
ACT II
SCENE I
A billiard room in a provincial hotel, where things are bought
and sold. The scene is set well forward, and is not very
broad; it represents the auctioneer's end of the room, having,
rather to stage Left, a narrow table with two chairs facing the
audience, where the auctioneer will sit and stand. The table,
which is set forward to the footlights, is littered with
green-covered particulars of sale. The audience are in effect
public and bidders. There is a door on the Left, level with the
table. Along the back wall, behind the table, are two raised
benches with two steps up to them, such as billiard rooms often
have, divided by a door in the middle of a wall, which is
panelled in oak. Late September sunlight is coming from a
skylight (not visible) on to these seats. The stage is empty
when the curtain goes up, but DAWKERS, and MRS. HILLCRIST are
just entering through the door at the back.
DAWKER. Be out of their way here, ma'am. See old Hornblower with
Chearlie?
[He points down to the audience.]
MRS. H. It begins at three, doesn't it?
DAWKER. They won't be over-punctual; there's only the Centry
selling. There's young Mrs. Hornblower with the other boy--
[Pointing] over at the entrance. I've got that chap I told you of
down from town.
MRS. H. Ah! make sure quite of her, Dawker. Any mistake would be
fatal.
DAWKER. [Nodding] That's right, ma'am. Lot of peopled--always
spare time to watch an auction--ever remark that? The Duke's
agent's here; shouldn't be surprised if he chipped in.
MRS. H. Where did you leave my husband?
DAWKER. With Miss Jill, in the courtyard. He's coming to you. In
case I miss him; tell him when I reach his limit to blow his nose if
he wants me to go on; when he blows it a second time, I'll stop for
good. Hope we shan't get to that. Old Hornblower doesn't throw his
money away.
MRS. H. What limit did you settle?
DAWKER. Six thousand!
MRS. H. That's a fearful price. Well, good luck to you, Dawker!
DAWKER. Good luck, ma'am. I'll go and see to that little matter of
Mrs. Chloe. Never fear, we'll do them is somehow.
[He winks, lays his finger on the side of his nose, and goes
out at the door.]
[MRS. HILLCRIST mounts the two steps, sits down Right of the
door, and puts up a pair of long-handled glasses. Through the
door behind her come CHLOE and ROLF. She makes a sign for him
to go, and shuts the door.]
CHLOE. [At the foot of the steps in the gangway--with a slightly
common accent] Mrs. Hillcrist!
MRS. H. [Not quite starting] I beg your pardon?
CHLOE. [Again] Mrs. Hillcrist----
MRS. H. Well?
CHLOE. I never did you any harm.
MRS. H. Did I ever say you did?
CHLOE. No; but you act as if I had.
MRS. H. I'm not aware that I've acted at all--as yet. You are
nothing to me, except as one of your family.
CHLOE. 'Tisn't I that wants to spoil your home.
MRS. H. Stop them then. I see your husband down there with his
father.
CHLOE. I--I have tried.
MRS. H. [Looking at her] Oh! I suppose such men don't pay
attention to what women ask them.
CHLOE. [With a flash of spirit] I'm fond of my husband. I----
MRS. H. [Looking at her steadily] I don't quite know why you spoke
to me.
CHLOE. [With a sort of pathetic sullenness] I only thought perhaps
you'd like to treat me as a human being.
MRS. H. Really, if you don't mind, I should like to be left alone
just now.
CHLOE. [Unhappily acquiescent] Certainly! I'll go to the other
end.
[She moves to the Left, mounts the steps and sits down.]
[ROLF, looking in through the door, and seeing where she is,
joins her. MRS. HILLCRIST resettles herself a little further
in on the Right.]
ROLF. [Bending over to CHLOE, after a glance at MRS. HILLCRIST.]
Are you all right?
CHLOE. It's awfully hot.
[She fans herself wide the particulars of sale.]
ROLF. There's Dawker. I hate that chap!
CHLOE. Where?
ROLF. Down there; see?
[He points down to stage Right of the room.]
CHLOE. [Drawing back in her seat with a little gasp] Oh!
ROLF. [Not noticing] Who's that next him, looking up here?
CHLOE. I don't know.
[She has raised her auction programme suddenly, and sits
fanning herself, carefully screening her face.]
ROLE. [Looking at her] Don't you feel well? Shall I get you some
water? [He gets up at her nod.]
[As he reaches the door, HILLCRIST and JILL come in. HILLCRIST
passes him abstractedly with a nod, and sits down beside his
wife.]
JILL. [To ROLF] Come to see us turned out?
ROLF. [Emphatically] No. I'm looking after Chloe; she's not well.
JILL. [Glancing at her] Sorry. She needn't have come, I suppose?
[RALF deigns no answer, and goes out.]
[JILL glances at CHLOE, then at her parents talking in low
voices, and sits down next her father, who makes room for her.]
MRS. H. Can Dawker see you there, Jack?
[HILLCRIST nods.]
What's the time?
HILLCRIST. Three minutes to three.
JILL. Don't you feel beastly all down the backs of your legs.
Dodo?
HILLCRIST. Yes.
JILL. Do you, mother?
MRS. H. No.
JILL. A wagon of old Hornblower's pots passed while we were in the
yard. It's an omen.
MRS. H. Don't be foolish, Jill.
JILL. Look at the old brute! Dodo, hold my hand.
MRS. H. Make sure you've got a handkerchief, Jack.
HILLCRIST. I can't go beyond the six thousand; I shall have to
raise every penny on mortgage as it is. The estate simply won't
stand more, Amy.
[He feels in his breast pocket, and pulls up the edge of his
handkerchief.]
JILL. Oh! Look! There's Miss Mullins, at the back; just come in.
Isn't she a spidery old chip?
MRS. H. Come to gloat. Really, I think her not accepting your
offer is disgusting. Her impartiality is all humbug.
HILLCRIST. Can't blame her for getting what she can--it's human
nature. Phew! I used to feel like this before a 'viva voce'.
Who's that next to Dawker?
JILL. What a fish!
MRS. H. [To herself] Ah! yes.
[Her eyes slide round at CHLOE, silting motionless and rather
sunk in her seat, slowly fanning herself with they particulars
of the sale. Jack, go and offer her my smelling salts.]
HILLCRIST. [Taking the salts] Thank God for a human touch!
MRS. H. [Taken aback] Oh!
JILL. [With a quick look at her mother, snatching the salts] I
will. [She goes over to CHLOE with the salts] Have a sniff; you
look awfully white.
CHLOE. [Looking up, startled] Oh! no thanks. I'm all right.
JILL. No, do! You must. [CHLOE takes them.]
JILL. D'you mind letting me see that a minute?
[She takes the particulars of the sale and studies it, but
CHLOE has buried the lower part of her face in her hand and the
smelling salts bottle.]
Beastly hot, isn't it? You'd better keep that.
CHLOE. [Her dark eyes wandering and uneasy] Rolf's getting me some
water.
JILL. Why do you stay? You didn't want to come, did you?
[CHLOE shakes her head.]
All right! Here's your water.
[She hands back the particulars and slides over to her seat,
passing ROLF in the gangway, with her chin well up.]
[MRS. HILLCRIST, who has watched CHLOE and JILL and DAWKER, and
his friend, makes an enquiring movement with her hand, but gets
a disappointing answer.]
JILL. What's the time, Dodo?
HILLCRIST. [Looking at his watch] Three minutes past.
JILL. [Sighing] Oh, hell!
HILLCRIST. Jill!
JILL. Sorry, Dodo. I was only thinking. Look! Here he is!
Phew!--isn't he----?
MRS. H. 'Sh!
The AUCTIONEER comes in Left and goes to the table. He is a
square, short, brown-faced, common looking man, with clipped
grey hair fitting him like a cap, and a clipped grey moustache.
His lids come down over his quick eyes, till he can see you
very sharply, and you can hardly see that he can see you. He
can break into a smile at any moment, which has no connection
with him, as it were. By a certain hurt look, however, when
bidding is slow, he discloses that he is not merely an
auctioneer, but has in him elements of the human being. He can
wink with anyone, and is dressed in a snug-brown suit, with a
perfectly unbuttoned waistcoat, a low, turned down collar, and
small black and white sailor knot tie. While he is settling
his papers, the HILLCRISTS settle themselves tensely. CHLOE
has drunk her water and leaned back again, with the smelling
salts to her nose. ROLF leans forward in the seat beside her,
looking sideways at JILL. A SOLICITOR, with a grey beard, has
joined the AUCTIONEER, at his table.
AUCTIONEER. [Tapping the table] Sorry to disappoint you,
gentlemen, but I've only one property to offer you to-day, No. 1,
The Centry, Deepwater. The second on the particulars has been
withdrawn. The third that's Bidcot, desirable freehold mansion and
farmlands in the Parish of Kenway--we shall have to deal with next
week. I shall be happy to sell it you then with out reservation.
[He looks again through the particulars in his hand, giving the
audience time to readjust themselves to his statements] Now,
gen'lemen, as I say, I've only the one property to sell. Freehold
No. 1--all that very desirable corn and stock-rearing and parklike
residential land known as the Centry, Deepwater, unique property an
A.1. chance to an A.1. audience. [With his smile] Ought to make
the price of the three we thought we had. Now you won't mind
listening to the conditions of sale; Mr. Blinkard'll read 'em, and
they won't wirry you, they're very short.
[He sits down and gives two little tape on the table.]
[The SOLICITOR rises and reads the conditions of sale in a
voice which no one practically can hear. Just as he begins to
read these conditions of sale, CHARLES HORNBLOWER enters at
back. He stands a moment, glancing round at the HILLCRIST and
twirling his moustache, then moves along to his wife and
touches her.]
CHARLES. Chloe, aren't you well?
[In the start which she gives, her face is fully revealed to
the audience.]
CHARLES. Come along, out of the way of these people.
[He jerks his head towards the HILLCRISTS. CHLOE gives a swift
look down to the stage Right of the audience.]
CHLOE. No; I'm all right; it's hotter there.
CHARLES. [To ROLF] Well, look after her--I must go back.
[ROLF node. CHARLES, slides bank to the door, with a glance at
the HILLCRISTS, of whom MRS. HILLCRIST has been watching like a
lynx. He goes out, just as the SOLICITOR, finishing, sits
down.]
AUCTIONEER. [Rising and tapping] Now, gen'lemen, it's not often a
piece of land like this comes into the market. What's that? [To a
friend in front of him] No better land in Deepwater--that's right,
Mr. Spicer. I know the village well, and a charming place it is;
perfect locality, to be sure. Now I don't want to wirry you by
singing the praises of this property; there it is--well-watered,
nicely timbered--no reservation of the timber, gen'lemen--no tenancy
to hold you up; free to do what you like with it to-morrow. You've
got a jewel of a site there, too; perfect position for a house. It
lies between the Duke's and Squire Hillcrist's--an emerald isle.
[With his smile] No allusion to Ireland, gen'lemen--perfect peace
in the Centry. Nothing like it in the county--a gen'leman's site,
and you don't get that offered you every day. [He looks down
towards HORNBLOWER, stage Left] Carries the mineral rights, and as
you know, perhaps, there's the very valuable Deepwater clay there.
What am I to start it at? Can I say three thousand? Well, anything
you like to give me. I'm sot particular. Come now, you've got more
time than me, I expect. Two hundred acres of first-rate grazin' and
cornland, with a site for a residence unequalled in the county; and
all the possibilities! Well, what shall I say?
[Bid from SPICER.]
Two thousand? [With his smile] That won't hurt you, Mr. Spicer.
Why, it's worth that to overlook the Duke. For two thousand?
[Bid from HORNBLOWER, stage Left.]
And five. Thank you, sir. Two thousand five hundred bid.
[To a friend just below him.]
Come, Mr. Sandy, don't scratch your head over it.
[Bid from DAWKER, Stage Right.]
And five. Three thousand bid for this desirable property. Why,
you'd think it wasn't desirable. Come along, gen'lemen. A little
spirit.
[A alight pause.]
JILL. Why can't I see the bids, Dodo?
HILLCRIST. The last was Dawker's.
AUCTIONEER. For three thousand. [HORNBLOWER] Three thousand five
hundred? May I say--four? [A bid from the centre] No, I'm not
particular; I'll take hundreds. Three thousand six hundred bid.
[HORNBLOWER] And seven. Three thousand seven hundred, and----
[He pauses, quartering the audience.]
JILL. Who was that, Dodo?
HILLCRIST. Hornblower. It's the Duke in the centre.
AUCTIONEER. Come, gen'lemen, don't keep me all day. Four thousand
may I say? [DAWKER] Thank you. We're beginning. And one? [A bid
from the centre] Four thousand one hundred. [HORNBLOWER] Four
thousand two hundred. May I have yours, sir? [To DAWKER] And
three. Four thousand three hundred bid. No such site in the
county, gen'lemen. I'm going to sell this land for what it's worth.
You can't bid too much for me. [He smiles] [HORNBLOWER] Four
thousand five hundred bid. [Bid from the centre] And six. [DAWKER]
And seven. [HORNBLOWER] And eight. Nine, may I say? [But the
centre has dried up] [DAWKER] And nine. [HORNBLOWER] Five
thousand. Five thousand bid. That's better; there's some spirit in
it. For five thousand.
[He pauses while he speak& to the SOLICITOR]
HILLCRIST. It's a duel now.
AUCTIONEER. Now, gen'lemen, I'm not going to give this property
away. Five thousand bid. [DAWKER] And one. [HORNBLOWER] And two.
[DAWKER] And three. Five thousand three hundred bid. And five,
did you say, sir? [HORNBLOWER] Five thousand five hundred bid.
[He looks at hip particulars.]
JILL. [Rather agonised] Enemy, Dodo.
AUCTIONEER. This chance may never come again.
"How you'll regret it
If you don't get it,"
as the poet says. May I say five thousand six hundred, sir?
[DAWKER] Five thousand six hundred bid. [HORNBLOWER] And seven.
[DAWKER] And eight. For five thousand eight hundred pounds. We're
gettin' on, but we haven't got the value yet.
[A slight pause, while he wipes his brow at the success of his own
efforts.]
JILL. Us, Dodo?
[HILLCRIST nods. JILL looks over at ROLF, whose face is
grimly set. CHLOE has never moved. MRS. HILLCRIST whispers to
her husband.]
AUCTIONEER. Five thousand eight hundred bid. For five thousand
eight hundred. Come along, gen'lemen, come along. We're not
beaten. Thank you, sir. [HORNBLOWER] Five thousand nine hundred.
And--? [DAWKER] Six thousand. Six thousand bid. Six thousand
bid. For six thousand! The Centry--most desirable spot in the
county--going for the low price of six thousand.
HILLCRIST. [Muttering] Low! Heavens!
AUCTIONEER. Any advance on six thousand? Come, gen'lemen, we
haven't dried up? A little spirit. Six thousand? For six
thousand? For six thousand pounds? Very well, I'm selling. For
six thousand once--[He taps] For six thousand twice--[He taps].
JILL. [Low] Oh! we've got it!
AUCTIONEER. And one, sir? [HORNBLOWER] Six thousand one hundred
bid.
[The SOLICITOR touches his arm and says something, to which the
AUCTIONEER responds with a nod.]
MRS. H. Blow your nose, Jack.
[HILLCRIST blows his nose.]
AUCTIONEER. For six thousand one hundred. [DAWKER] And two.
Thank you. [HORNBLOWER] And three. For six thousand three
hundred. [DAWKER] And four. For six thousand four hundred pounds.
This coveted property. For six thousand four hundred pounds. Why,
it's giving it away, gen'lemen. [A pause.]
MRS. H. Giving!
AUCTIONEER. Six thousand four hundred bid. [HORNBLOWER] And five.
[DAWKER] And six. [HORNBLOWER] And seven. [DAWKER] And eight.
[A pause, during which, through the door Left, someone beckons
to the SOLICITOR, who rises and confers.]
HILLCRIST. [Muttering] I've done if that doesn't get it.
AUCTIONEER. For six thousand eight hundred. For six thousand eight
hundred-once--[He taps] twice--[He tape] For the last time. This
dominating site. [HORNBLOWER] And nine. Thank you. For six
thousand nine hundred.
[HILLCRIST has taken out his handkerchief.]
JILL. Oh! Dodo!
MRS. H. [Quivering] Don't give in!
AUCTIONEER. Seven thousand may I say? [DAWKER] Seven thousand.
MRS. H. [Whispers] Keep it down; don't show him.
AUCTIONEER. For seven-thousand--going for seven thousand--once--
[Taps] twice [Taps] [HORNBLOWER] And one. Thank you, sir.
[HILLCRIST blows his nose. JILL, with a choke, leans back in
her seat and folds her arms tightly on her chest. MRS.
HILLCRIST passes her handkerchief over her lips, sitting
perfectly still. HILLCRIST, too, is motionless.]
[The AUCTIONEER, has paused, and is talking to the SOLICITOR,
who has returned to his seat.]
MRS. H. Oh! Jack.
JILL. Stick it, Dodo; stick it!
AUCTIONEER. Now, gen'lemen, I have a bid of seven thousand one
hundred for the Centry. And I'm instructed to sell if I can't get
more. It's a fair price, but not a big price. [To his friend MR.
SPICER] A thumpin' price? [With his smile] Well, you're a judge
of thumpin', I admit. Now, who'll give me seven thousand two
hundred? What, no one? Well, I can't make you, gen'lemen. For
seven thousand one hundred. Once--[Taps] Twice--[Taps].
[JILL utters a little groan.]
HILLCRIST. [Suddenly, in a queer voice] Two.
AUCTIONEER. [Turning with surprise and looking up to receive
HILLCRIST'S nod] Thank you, sir. And two. Seven thousand two
hundred. [He screws himself round so as to command both HILLCRIST
and HORNBLOWER] May I have yours, sir? [HORNBLOWER] And three.
[HILLCRIST] And four. Seven thousand four hundred. For seven
thousand four hundred. [HORNBLOWER] Five. [HILLCRIST] Six. For
seven thousand six hundred. [A pause] Well, gen'lemen, this is.
better, but a record property shid fetch a record price. The
possibilities are enormous. [HORNBLOWER] Eight thousand did you
say, sir? Eight thousand. Going for eight thousand pounds.
[HILLCRIST] And one. [HORNBLOWER] And two. [HILLCRIST] And
three. [HORNBLOWER] And four. [HILLCRIST] And five. For eight
thousand five hundred. A wonderful property for eight thousand five
hundred.
[He wipes his brow.]
JILL. [Whispering] Oh, Dodo!
MRS. H. That's enough, Jack, we must stop some time.
AUCTIONEER. For eight thousand five hundred. Once--[Taps]--twice--
[Taps] [HORNBLOWER] Six hundred. [HILLCRIST] Seven. May I have
yours, sir? [HORNBLOWER] Eight.
HILLCRIST. Nine thousand.
[MRS. HILLCRIST looks at him, biting her lips, but he is quite
absorbed.]
AUCTIONEER. Nine thousand for this astounding property. Why, the
Duke would pay that if he realised he'd be overlooked. Now, Sir?
[To HORNBLOWER. No response]. Just a little raise on that. [No
response.] For nine thousand. The Centry, Deepwater, for nine
thousand. Once--[Taps] Twice----[Taps].
JILL. [Under her breath] Ours!
A VOICE. [From far back in the centre] And five hundred.
AUCTIONEER. [Surprised and throwing out his arms towards the voice]
And five hundred. For nine thousand five hundred. May I have
yours, sir? [He looks at HORNBLOWER. No response.]
[The SOLICITOR speaks to him. MRS. H. [Whispering] It must
be the Duke again.]
HILLCRIST. [Passing his hand over his brow] That's stopped him,
anyway.
AUCTIONEER. [Looking at HILLCRIST] For nine thousand five hundred?
[HILLCRIST shakes his head.] Once more. The Centry, Deepwater, for
nine thousand five hundred. Once--[Taps] Twice--[Taps] [He pauses
and looks again at HORNBLOWER and HILLCRIST] For the last time--at
nine thousand five hundred. [Taps] [With a look towards the
bidder] Mr. Smalley. Well! [With great satisfaction] That's
that! No more to-day, gen'lemen.
[The AUCTIONEER and SOLICITOR busy themselves. The room begins
to empty.]
MRS. H. Smalley? Smalley? Is that the Duke's agent? Jack!
HILLCRIST. [Coming out of a sort of coma, after the excitement he
has been going through] What! What!
JILL. Oh, Dodo! How splendidly you stuck it!
HILLCRIST. Phew! What a squeak! I was clean out of my depth. A
mercy the Duke chipped in again.
MRS. H. [Looking at ROLF and CHLOE, who are standing up as if about
to go] Take care; they can hear you. Find DAWKER, Jack.
[Below, the AUCTIONEER and SOLICITOR take up their papers, and
move out Left.]
[HILLCRIST stretches himself, standing up, as if to throw off
the strain. The door behind is opened, and HORNBLOWER
appears.]
HORNBLOWER. Ye ran me up a pretty price. Ye bid very pluckily,
Hillcrist. But ye didn't quite get my measure.
HILLCRIST. Oh! It was my nine thousand the Duke capped. Thank
God, the Centry's gone to a gentleman!
HORNBLOWER. The Duke? [He laughs] No, the Gentry's not gone to a
gentleman, nor to a fool. It's gone to me.
HILLCRIST. What!
HOUNBLOWER. I'm sorry for ye; ye're not fit to manage these things.
Well, it's a monstrous price, and I've had to pay it because of your
obstinacy. I shan't forget that when I come to build.
HILLCRIST. D'you mean to say that bid was for you?
HORNBLOWER. Of course I do. I told ye I was a bad man to be up
against. Perhaps ye'll believe me now.
HILLCRIST. A dastardly trick!
HORNBLOWER. [With venom] What did ye call it--a skin game?
Remember we're playin' a skin game, Hillcrist.
HILLCRIST. [Clenching his fists] If we were younger men----
HORNBLOWER. Ay! 'Twouldn't Look pretty for us to be at fisticuffs.
We'll leave the fightin' to the young ones. [He glances at ROLF and
JILL; suddenly throwing out his finger at ROLF] No makin' up to
that young woman! I've watched ye. And as for you, missy, you
leave my boy alone.
JILL. [With suppressed passion] Dodo, may I spit in his eye or
something?
HILLCRIST. Sit down.
[JILL sits down. He stands between her and HORNBLOWER.]
[Yu've won this round, sir, by a foul blow. We shall see
whether you can take any advantage of it. I believe the law
can stop you ruining my property.]
HORNBLOWER. Make your mind easy; it can't. I've got ye in a noose,
and I'm goin' to hang ye.
MRS. H. [Suddenly] Mr. Hornblower, as you fight foul--so shall we.
HILLCRIST. Amy!
MRS. H. [Paying no attention] And it will not be foul play towards
you and yours. You are outside the pale.
HORNBLOWER. That's just where I am, outside your pale all round ye.
Ye're not long for Deepwater, ma'am. Make your dispositions to go;
ye'll be out in six months, I prophesy. And good riddance to the
neighbourhood. [They are all down on the level now.]
CHLOE. [Suddenly coming closer to MRS. HILLCRIST] Here are your
salts, thank you. Father, can't you----?
HORNBLOWER. [Surprised] Can't I what?
CHLOE. Can't you come to an arrangement?
MRS. H. Just so, Mr. Hornblower. Can't you?
HORNBLOWER. [Looking from one to the other] As we're speakin' out,
ma'am, it's your behaviour to my daughter-in-law--who's as good as
you--and better, to my thinking--that's more than half the reason
why I've bought this property. Ye've fair got my dander up. Now
it's no use to bandy words. It's very forgivin' of ye, Chloe, but
come along!
MRS. H. Quite seriously, Mr. Hornblower, you had better come to an
arrangement.
HORNBLOWER. Mrs. Hillcrist, ladies should keep to their own
business.
MRS. H. I will.
HILLCRIST. Amy, do leave it to us men. You young man [He speaks to
ROLF] do you support your father's trick this afternoon?
[JILL looks round at ROLF, who tries to speak, when HORNBLOWER
breaks in.]
HORNBLOWER. My trick? And what dye call it, to try and put me own
son against me?
JILL. [To ROLF] Well?
ROLF. I don't, but----
HORNBLOWER. Trick? Ye young cub, be quiet. Mr. Hillcrist had an
agent bid for him--I had an agent bid for me. Only his agent bid at
the beginnin', an' mine bid at the end. What's the trick in that?
[He laughs.]
HILLCRIST. Hopeless; we're in different worlds.
HORNBLOWER. I wish to God we were! Come you, Chloe. And you,
Rolf, you follow. In six months I'll have those chimneys up, and me
lorries runnin' round ye.
MRS. H. Mr. Hornblower, if you build----
HORNBLOWER. [Looking at MRS. HILLCRIST] Ye know--it's laughable.
Ye make me pay nine thousand five hundred for a bit o' land not
worth four, and ye think I'm not to get back on ye. I'm goin' on
with as little consideration as if ye were a family of blackbeetles.
Good afternoon!
ROLF. Father!
JILL. Oh, Dodo! He's obscene.
HILLCRIST. Mr. Hornblower, my compliments.
[HORNBLOWER with a stare at HILLCRIST'S half-smiling face,
takes CHLOE'S arm, and half drags her towards the door on the
Left. But there, in the opened doorway, are standing DAWKER
and a STRANGER. They move just out of the way of the exit,
looking at CHLOE, who sways and very nearly falls.]
HORNBLOWER. Why! Chloe! What's the matter?
CHLOE. I don't know; I'm not well to-day.
[She pulls herself together with a great, effort.]
MRS. H. [Who has exchanged a nod with DAWKER and the STRANGER] Mr.
Hornblower, you build at your peril. I warn you.
HORNBLOWER. [Turning round to speak] Ye think yourself very cool
and very smart. But I doubt this is the first time ye've been up
against realities. Now, I've been up against them all my life.
Don't talk to me, ma'am, about peril and that sort of nonsense; it
makes no impression. Your husband called me pachydermatous. I
don't know Greek, and Latin, and all that, but I've looked it out in
the dictionary, and I find it means thick-skinned. And I'm none
the worse for that when I have to deal with folk like you. Good
afternoon.
[He draws CHLOE forward, and they pass through the door,
followed quickly by ROLF.]
MRS. H. Thank you; Dawker.
[She moves up to DAWKER and the STRANGER, Left, and they
talk.]
JILL. Dodo! It's awful!
HILLCRIST. Well, there's nothing for it now but to smile and pay
up. Poor old home! It shall be his wash-pot. Over the Centry will
he cast his shoe. By Gad, Jill, I could cry!
JILL. [Pointing] Look! Chloe's sitting down. She nearly fainted
just now. It's something to do with Dawker, Dodo, and that man with
him. Look at mother! Ask them!
HILLCRIST. Dawker!
[DAWKER comes to him, followed by MRS. HILLCRIST.]
What's the mystery about young Mrs. Hornblower?
DAWKER. No mystery.
HILLCRIST. Well, what is it?
MRS. H. You'd better not ask.
HILLCRIST. I wish to know.
MRS. H. Jill, go out and wait for us.
JILL. Nonsense, mother!
MRS. H. It's not for a girl to hear.
JILL. Bosh! I read the papers every day.
DAWKER. It's nothin' worse than you get there, anyway.
MRS. H. Do you wish your daughter----
JILL. It's ridiculous, Dodo; you'd think I was mother at my age.
MRS. H. I was not so proud of my knowledge.
JILL. No, but you had it, dear.
HILLCRIST. What is it----what is it? Come over here, Dawker.
[DAWKER goes to him, Right, and speaks in a low voice.]
What! [Again DAWKER speaks in, a low voice.]
Good God!
MRS. H. Exactly!
JILL. Poor thing--whatever it is!
MRS. H. Poor thing?
JILL. What went before, mother?
MRS. H. It's what's coming after that matters; luckily.
HILLCRIST. How do you know this?
DAWKER. My friend here [He points to the STRANGER] was one of the
agents.
HILLCRIST. It's shocking. I'm sorry I heard it.
MRS. H. I told you not to.
HILLCRIST. Ask your friend to come here.
[DAWKER beckons, and the STRANGER joins the group.]
Are you sure of what you've said, sir?
STRANGER. Perfectly. I remember her quite well; her name then
was----
HILLCRIST. I don't want to know, thank you. I'm truly sorry. I
wouldn't wish the knowledge of that about his womenfolk to my worst
enemy. This mustn't be spoken of. [JILL hugs his arm.]
MRS. H. It will not be if Mr. Hornblower is wise. If he is not
wise, it must be spoken of.
HILLCRIST. I say no, Amy. I won't have it. It's a dirty weapon.
Who touches pitch shall be defiled.
MRS. H. Well, what weapons does he use against us? Don't be
quixotic. For all we can tell, they know it quite well already, and
if they don't they ought to. Anyway, to know this is our salvation,
and we must use it.
JILL: [Sotto voce] Pitch! Dodo! Pitch!
DAWKER. The threat's enough! J.P.--Chapel--Future member for the
constituency----.
HILLCRIST. [A little more doubtfully] To use a piece of knowledge
about a woman--it's repugnant. I--I won't do it.
[Mrs. H. If you had a son tricked into marrying such a woman,
would you wish to remain ignorant of it?]
HILLCRIST. [Struck] I don't know--I don't know.
MRS. H. At least, you'd like to be in a position to help him, if
you thought it necessary?
HILLCRIST. Well--that perhaps.
MRS. H. Then you agree that Mr. Hornblower at least should be told.
What he does with the knowledge is not our affair.
HILLCRIST. [Half to the STRANGER and half to DAWKER] Do you realise
that an imputation of that kind may be ground for a criminal libel
action?
STRANGER. Quite. But there's no shadow of doubt; not the faintest.
You saw her just now?
HILLCRIST. I did. [Revolting again] No; I don't like it.
[DAWKER has drawn the STRANGER a step or two away, and they
talk together.]
MRS. H. [In a low voice] And the ruin of our home? You're
betraying your fathers, Jack.
HILLCRIST. I can't bear bringing a woman into it.
MRS. H. We don't. If anyone brings her in; it will be Hornblower
himself.
HILLCRIST. We use her secret as a lever.
MRS. H. I tell you quite plainly: I will only consent to holding my
tongue about her, if you agree to Hornblower being told. It's a
scandal to have a woman like that in the neighbourhood.
JILL. Mother means that, father.
HILLCRIST. Jill, keep quiet. This is a very bitter position. I
can't tell what to do.
MRS. H. You must use this knowledge. You owe it to me--to us all.
You'll see that when you've thought it over.
JILL. [Softly] Pitch, Dodo, pitch!
MRS. H. [Furiously] Jill, be quiet!
HILLCRIST. I was brought up never to hurt a woman. I can't do it,
Amy--I can't do it. I should never feel like a gentleman again.
MRS. H. [Coldly] Oh! Very well.
HILLCRIST. What d'you mean by that?
MRS. H. I shall use the knowledge in my own way.
HILLCRIST. [Staring at her] You would--against my wishes?
MRS. H. I consider it my duty.
HILLCRIST. If I agree to Hornblower being told----
MRS. H. That's all I want.
HILLCRIST. It's the utmost I'll consent to, Amy; and don't let's
have any humbug about its being, morally necessary. We do it to
save our skins.
MRS. H. I don't know what you mean by humbug?
JILL. He means humbug; mother.
HILLCRIST. It must stop at old Hornblower. Do you quite
understand?
MRS. H. Quite.
JILL. Will it stop?
MRS. H. Jill, if you can't keep your impertinence to yourself----
HILLCRIST. Jill, come with me.
[He turns towards door, Back.]
JILL. I'm sorry, mother. Only it is a skin game, isn't it?
MRS. H. You pride yourself on plain speech, Jill. I pride myself
on plain thought. You will thank me afterwards that I can see
realities. I know we are better people than these Hornblowers.
Here we are going to stay, and they--are not.
JILL. [Looking at her with a sort of unwilling admiration] Mother,
you're wonderful!
HILLCRIST. Jill!
JILL. Coming, Dodo.
[She turns and runs to the door. They go out.]
[MRS. HILLCRIST, with a long sigh, draws herself up, fine and
proud.]
MRS. H. Dawker! [He comes to her.]
[I shall send him a note to-night, and word it so that
he will be bound to come and see us to-marrow morning. Will
you be in the study just before eleven o'clock, with this
gentleman?]
DAWKER. [Nodding] We're going to wire for his partner. I'll bring
him too. Can't make too sure.
[She goes firmly up the steps and out.]
DAWKER. [To the STRANGER, with a wink] The Squire's squeamish--too
much of a gentleman. But he don't count. The grey mare's all
right. You wire to Henry. I'm off to our solicitors. We'll make
that old rhinoceros sell us back the Centry at a decent price.
These Hornblowers--[Laying his finger on his nose] We've got 'em!
CURTAIN
SCENE II
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 efort] 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
ACT III
SCENE I
HILLCRIST'S study next morning.
JILL coming from Left, looks in at the open French window.
JILL. [Speaking to ROLF, invisible] Come in here. There's no one.
[She goes in. ROLF joins her, coming from the garden.]
ROLF. Jill, I just wanted to say--Need we?
[JILL. nodes.]
Seeing you yesterday--it did seem rotten.
JILL. We didn't begin it.
ROLF. No; but you don't understand. If you'd made yourself, as
father has----
JILL. I hope I should be sorry.
ROLF. [Reproachfully] That isn't like you. Really he can't help
thinking he's a public benefactor.
JILL. And we can't help thinking he's a pig. Sorry!
ROLF. If the survival of the fittest is right----
JILL. He may be fitter, but he's not going to survive.
ROLF. [Distracted] It looks like it, though.
JILL. Is that all you came to say?
ROLF. Suppose we joined, couldn't we stop it?
JILL. I don't feel like joining.
ROLF. We did shake hands.
JILL. One can't fight and not grow bitter.
ROLF. I don't feel bitter.
JILL. Wait; you'll feel it soon enough.
ROLF. Why? [Attentively] About Chloe? I do think your mother's
manner to her is----
JILL. Well?
ROLF. Snobbish. [JILL laughs.]
She may not be your class; and that's just why it's
snobbish.
JILL. I think you'd better shut up.
ROLF. What my father said was true; your mother's rudeness to her
that day she came here, has made both him and Charlie ever so much
more bitter.
[JILL whistles the Habanera from "Carmen."]
[Staring at her, rather angrily]
Is it a whistling matter?
JILL. No.
ROLF. I suppose you want me to go?
JILL. Yes.
ROLF. All right. Aren't we ever going to be friends again?
JILL. [Looking steadily at him] I don't expect so.
ROLF. That's very-horrible.
JILL. Lots of horrible things in the world.
ROLF. It's our business to make them fewer, Jill.
JILL. [Fiercely] Don't be moral.
ROLF. [Hurt] That's the last thing I want to be.--I only want to
be friendly.
JILL. Better be real first.
ROLF. From the big point of view----
JILL. There isn't any. We're all out, for our own. And why not?
ROLF. By jove, you have got----
JILL. Cynical? Your father's motto--"Every man for himself."
That's the winner--hands down. Goodbye!
ROLF. Jill! Jill!
JILL. [Putting her hands behind her back, hums]--
"If auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne"----
ROLF. Don't!
[With a pained gesture he goes out towards Left, through the
French window.]
[JILL, who has broken off the song, stands with her hands
clenched and her lips quivering.]
[FELLOWS enters Left.]
FELLOWS. Mr. Dawker, Miss, and two gentlemen.
JILL. Let the three gentlemen in, and me out.
[She passes him and goes out Left. And immediately. DAWKER
and the two STRANGERS come in.]
FELLOWS. I'll inform Mrs. Hillcrist, sir. The Squire is on his
rounds. [He goes out Left.]
[The THREE MEN gather in a discreet knot at the big bureau,
having glanced at the two doors and the open French window.]
DAWKER. Now this may come into Court, you know. If there's a screw
loose anywhere, better mention it. [To SECOND STRANGE] You knew
her personally?
SECOND S. What do you think? I don't, take girls on trust for that
sort of job. She came to us highly recommended, too; and did her
work very well. It was a double stunt--to make sure--wasn't it,
George?
FIRST S. Yes; we paid her for the two visits.
SECOND S. I should know her in a minute; striking looking girl; had
something in her face. Daresay she'd seen hard times.
FIRST S. We don't want publicity.
DAWKER. Not Likely. The threat'll do it; but the stakes are heavy
--and the man's a slugger; we must be able to push it home. If you
can both swear to her, it'll do the trick.
SECOND S. And about--I mean, we're losing time, you know, coming
down here.
DAWKER. [With a nod at FIRST STRANGER] George here knows me.
That'll be all right. I'll guarantee it well worth your while.
SECOND S. I don't want to do the girl harm, if she's married.
DAWKER. No, no; nobody wants to hurt her. We just want a cinch on
this fellow till he squeals.
[They separate a little as MRS. HILLCRIST enters from Right.]
DAWKER. Good morning, ma'am. My friend's partner. Hornblower
coming?
MRS. H. At eleven. I had to send up a second note, Dawker.
DAWKER. Squire not in?
MRS. H. I haven't told him.
DAWKER. [Nodding] Our friends might go in here [Pointing Right]
and we can use 'em as the want 'em.
MRS. H. [To the STRANGERS] Will you make yourselves comfortable?
[She holds the door open, and they pass her into the room,
Right.]
DAWKER. [Showing document] I've had this drawn and engrossed.
Pretty sharp work. Conveys the Centry, and Longmeadow; to the
Squire at four thousand five hundred: Now, ma'am, suppose Hornblower
puts his hand to that, hell have been done in the eye, and six
thousand all told out o' pocket.--You'll have a very nasty neighbour
here.
MRS. H. But we shall still have the power to disclose that secret
at any time.
DAWKER. Yeh! But things might happen here you could never bring
home to him. You can't trust a man like that. He isn't goin' to
forgive me, I know.
MRS. H. [Regarding him keenly] But if he signs, we couldn't
honourably----
DAWKER. No, ma'am, you couldn't; and I'm sure I don't want to do
that girl a hurt. I just mention it because, of course, you can't
guarantee that it doesn't get out.
MRS. H. Not absolutely, I suppose.
[A look passes between them, which neither of them has quite
sanctioned.]
[There's his car. It always seems to make more noise than any
other.]
DAWKER. He'll kick and flounder--but you leave him to ask what you
want, ma'am; don't mention this [He puts the deed back into his
pocket]. The Centry's no mortal good to him if he's not going to
put up works; I should say he'd be glad to save what he can.
[MRS. HILLCRIST inclines her head. FELLOWS enters Left.]
FELLOWS. [Apologetically] Mr. Hornblower, ma'am; by appointment,
he says.
MRS. H. Quite right, Fellows.
[HORNBLOWER comes in, and FELLOWS goes out.]
HORNBLOWER. [Without salutation] I've come to ask ye point bleak
what ye mean by writing me these letters. [He takes out two
letters.] And we'll discus it in the presence of nobody, if ye,
please.
MRS. H. Mr. Dawker knows all that I know, and more.
HORNBLOWER. Does he? Very well! Your second note says that my
daughter-in-law has lied to me. Well, I've brought her, and what
ye've got to say--if it's not just a trick to see me again--ye'll
say to her face. [He takes a step towards the window.]
MRS. H. Mr. Hornblower, you had better, decide that after hearing
what it is--we shall be quite ready to repeat it in her presence;
but we want to do as little harm as possible.
HORNBLOWER. [Stopping] Oh! ye do! Well, what lies have ye been
hearin'? Or what have ye made up? You and Mr. Dawker? Of course
ye know there's a law of libel and slander. I'm, not the man to
stop at that.
MRS. H. [Calmly] Are you familiar with the law of divorce, Mr.
Hornblower?
HORNBLOWER. [Taken aback] No, I'm not. That is-----.
MRS. H. Well, you know that misconduct is required. And I suppose
you've heard that cases are arranged.
HORNBLOWER. I know it's all very shocking--what about it?
MRS. H. When cases are arranged, Mr. Hornblower, the man who is to
be divorced often visits an hotel with a strange woman. I am
extremely sorry to say that your daughter-in-law, before her
marriage, was in the habit of being employed as such a woman.
HORNBLOWER. Ye dreadful creature!
DAWKER. [Quickly] All proved, up to the hilt!
HORNBLOWER. I don't believe a word of it. Ye're lyin' to save your
skins. How dare ye tell me such monstrosities? Dawker, I'll have
ye in a criminal court.
DAWKER. Rats! You saw a gent with me yesterday? Well, he's
employed her.
HORNBLOWER. A put-up job! Conspiracy!
MRS. H. Go and get your daughter-in-law.
HORNBLOWER. [With the first sensation of being in a net] It's a
foul shame--a lying slander!
MRS. H. If so, it's easily disproved. Go and fetch her.
HORNBLOWER. [Seeing them unmoved] I will. I don't believe a word
of it.
MRS. H. I hope you are right.
[HORNBLOWER goes out by the French window, DAWKER slips to the
door Right, opens it, and speaks to those within. MRS.
HILLCRIST stands moistening her lips, and passim her
handkerchief over them. HORNBLOWER returns, preceding CHLOE,
strung up to hardness and defiance.]
HORNBLOWER. Now then, let's have this impudent story torn to rags.
CHLOE. What story?
HORNBLOWER. That you, my dear, were a woman--it's too shockin--I
don't know how to tell ye----
CHLOE. Go on!
HORNBLOWER. Were a woman that went with men, to get them their
divorce.
CHLOE. Who says that?
HORNBLOWER. That lady [Sneering] there, and her bull-terrier here.
CHLOE. [Facing MRS. HILLCRIST] That's a charitable thing to say,
isn't it?
MRS. H. Is it true?
CHLOE. No.
HORNBLOWER. [Furiously] There! I'll have ye both on your knees to
her!
DAWKER. [Opening the door, Right] Come in.
[The FIRST STRANGER comes in. CHLOE, with a visible effort,
turns to face him.]
FIRST S. How do you do, Mrs. Vane?
CHLOE. I don't know you.
FIRST S. Your memory is bad, ma'am: You knew me yesterday well
enough. One day is not a long time, nor are three years.
CHLOE. Who are you?
FIRST S. Come, ma'am, come! The Caster case.
CHLOE. I don't know you, I say. [To MRS. HILLCRIST] How can you
be so vile?
FIRST S. Let me refresh your memory, ma'am. [Producing a notebook]
Just on three years ago; "Oct.3. To fee and expenses Mrs. Vane with
Mr. C----, Hotel Beaulieu, Twenty pounds. Oct. 10, Do., Twenty
pounds." [To HORNBLOWER] Would you like to glance at this book,
sir? You'll see they're genuine entries.
[HORNBLOWER makes a motion to do so, but checks himself and
looks at CHLOE.]
CHLOE. [Hysterically] It's all lies--lies!
FIRST S. Come, ma'am, we wish you no harm.
CHLOE. Take me away. I won't be treated like this.
MRS. H. [In a low voice] Confess.
CHLOE. Lies!
HORNBLOWER. Were ye ever called Vane?
CHLOE. No, never.
[She makes a movement towards the window, but DAWKER is in the
way, and she halts. FIRST S. [Opening the door, Right]
Henry.]
[The SECOND STRANGER comes in quickly. At sight of him CHLOE
throws up her hands, gasps, breaks down, stage Left, and stands
covering her face with her hands. It is so complete a
confession that HORNBLOWER stands staggered; and, taking out a
coloured handkerchief, wipes his brow.]
DAWKER. Are you convinced?
HORNBLOWER. Take those men away.
DAWKER. If you're not satisfied, we can get other evidence; plenty.
HORNBLOWER. [Looking at CHLOE] That's enough. Take them out.
Leave me alone with her.
[DAWKER takes them out Right. MRS. HILLCRIST passes HORNBLOWER
and goes out at the window. HORNBLOWER moves down a step or
two towards CHLOE.]
HORNBLOWER. My God!
CHLOE. [With an outburst] Don't tell Charlie! Don't tell Charlie!
HORNBLOWER. Chearlie! So, that was your manner of life.
[CHLOE utters a moaning sound.]
So that's what ye got out of by marryin' into my family! Shame on
ye, ye Godless thing!
CHLOE. Don't tell Charlie!
HORNBLOWER. And that's all ye can say for the wreck ye've wrought.
My family, my works, my future! How dared ye!
CHLOE. If you'd been me!----
HORNBLOWER. An' these Hillcrists. The skin game of it!
CHLOE. [Breathless] Father!
HORNBLOWER. Don't call me that, woman!
CHLOE. [Desperate] I'm going to have a child.
HORNBLOWER. God! Ye are!
CHLOE. Your grandchild. For the sake of it, do what these people
want; and don't tell anyone--DON'T TELL CHARLIE!
HORNBLOWER. [Again wiping his forehead] A secret between us. I
don't know that I can keep it. It's horrible. Poor Chearlie!
CHLOE. [Suddenly fierce] You must keep it, you shall! I won't
have him told. Don't make me desperate! I can be--I didn't live
that life for nothing.
HORNBLOWER. [Staring at her resealed in a new light] Ay; ye look a
strange, wild woman, as I see ye. And we thought the world of ye!
CHLOE. I love Charlie; I'm faithful to him. I can't live without
him. You'll never forgive me, I know; but Charlie----! [Stretching
out her hands.]
[HORNBLOWER makes a bewildered gesture with his large hands.]
HORNBLOWER. I'm all at sea here. Go out to the car and wait for
me.
[CHLOE passes him and goes out, Left.]
[Muttering to himself] So I'm down! Me enemies put their heels upon
me head! Ah! but we'll see yet!