Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated)
Page 368
Catherine.
[Hoarsely, more moved than she wishes to show.] I don’t believe Robert is ambitious.
Perigal.
You have to be a shrewd observer always to know the difference between ambition and patriotism.
Catherine.
I could think the world well lost for love.
Perigal.
Yes, but you’re a woman. D’you think a man can?
[Catherine does not answer. Her face expresses the agony of her spirit as Perigal’s words sink in.
Perigal.
May I ring and ask if my carriage has come back?
Catherine.
Let me!
[She rings the bell.
Perigal.
I asked Colby to fetch me in it so that we might run down to the House together.
[The Butler enters to announce Robert Colby, and goes out.
Thompson.
Mr. Colby.
Colby.
I thought I’d come up for one moment just to say how d’you do.
Catherine.
[Forcing some gaiety of manner.] I should have been furious if you hadn’t.
Perigal.
Of course!... I’ll just go up and see your father.
Catherine.
He will be so pleased. I’ll take you up.
Perigal.
No, no, no, no! I couldn’t hear of it. I can easily find my way.
Colby.
I’ll do my best to entertain you while Mr. Perigal is gone. [Mr. Perigal leaves them, and Colby goes up to her gaily.] I jumped for joy when he sent me a note asking me to call for him here.
Catherine.
[Smiling.] You might have come of your own accord.
Colby.
I’m always afraid that I shall bore you if I come too often. I rack my brains for plausible excuses to present myself at your front door.... What’s the matter, Kate?
Catherine.
With me? Nothing.
Colby.
I thought you seemed worried.
Catherine.
D’you know that you haven’t shown the least desire to kiss me?
Colby.
I? My dear, I was obeying your strict commands.
Catherine.
If you really wanted to, you wouldn’t have cared two straws for my commands.
Colby.
[Going towards her.] My darling!
Catherine.
Oh no, don’t. I don’t beg for.... [She breaks off.] If you didn’t think of it of your own accord, it’s too late.
Colby.
What on earth’s the matter with you?
Catherine.
If you love me why don’t you say so sometimes?
Colby.
Good heavens, it’s on the tip of my tongue every moment of the day! I have to hold myself in to prevent falling at your feet and telling you how much I care.
Catherine.
Oh, forgive me! If you knew how dreadfully sometimes I long for a word of love!
Colby.
[Taking her in his arms.] Darling!
Catherine.
Oh, it’s too hard to restrain myself always. Have I been peevish and horrible?
Colby.
[Smiling tenderly.] Of course not.
Catherine.
But I want to know you love me.
Colby.
Kate!
[He turns her face to him and kisses her on the lips.
Catherine.
[Hiding her face and beginning to cry on his shoulder.] You’re all I have in the world. I don’t know what I should do if I lost you.
Colby.
In a very little while now we shall belong to one another for good and all.
Catherine.
[Looking up, withdrawing herself a little and looking into his eyes.] I wonder how much you love me?
Colby.
With all my heart, with all my soul!
Catherine.
D’you love me enough to....
[She breaks off and turns away from him.
Colby.
What?
Catherine.
Nothing. I’m being silly and sentimental. [Smiling.] Let’s be wise and as well behaved as we generally are.
Colby.
I can’t understand you this afternoon, Kate. You’re so different.
Catherine.
I shall frighten you. You’ve never realized that I’m a creature of moods. Are you sure it’s wise to link your life to a woman who’s capable of making almost a scene without any provocation?
Colby.
If you had a bad temper I think I should love it.
Catherine.
[Chaffing him.] Oh!
Colby.
[Stretching out his hands.] Kate!
Catherine.
[Quite cheerfully, as if she were bantering.] I want to put a purely hypothetical case to you. Supposing you had to choose between me and your career — which would you choose?
Colby.
[Smiling.] You, of course.
Catherine.
How glibly you say it!
Colby.
Fortunately I shall never be forced to make such a tremendous choice.
Catherine.
Of course not.
Colby.
Then why the dickens do you suggest it?
Catherine.
Because I’m nervous and restless and rather bored. I wanted to hear you say that you wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice the world for my sake.
Colby.
You absurd, delightful creature!
[She is all smiles and coquetry. Suddenly the tears force themselves into her eyes and her voice breaks.
Catherine.
Bob!
[She stretches out her hands and he takes her in his arms and kisses her passionately; she breaks away from him and stands panting. Mr. Perigal comes in followed by Francis Etchingham, who wears on one foot a large felt slipper, and walks with a stick.
Perigal.
Your father insisted on coming downstairs.
Etchingham.
I really can’t stand my room any longer. And I can walk quite well now.
Catherine.
I thought Dr. O’Farrell said you were to stay upstairs till to-morrow, father.
Etchingham.
O’Farrell’s an idiot.
Colby.
[Smiling.] It certainly looks as if you were better when you start abusing your doctor.
Perigal.
[To Colby.] I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?
Colby.
Not a bit!
Perigal.
[Very amiably.] Lady Francis has been showing me an old photograph.
Etchingham.
[Settling himself heavily into an armchair.] That little joke of Angela’s didn’t quite come off.
[Catherine gives him a footstool and puts his foot on it.
Perigal.
I looked at it blankly, and then she said: Don’t you remember? It’s so-and-so. It gave me quite a start. It was the photograph of a young lady I’d been so madly in love with that I asked her to bolt with me — married woman and all that sort of thing — and, would you believe it? thirty years have passed since then, and upon my soul I didn’t know her from Adam!
Etchingham.
Or Eve!
[Catherine looks at him gravely, seeing the application to herself of his story.
Colby.
You must congratulate yourself.
Perigal.
Well, my friends, I do. I’m not a high-minded, quixotic fellow like you, and I don’t mind telling you that I find it very agreeable to be Secretary for Foreign Affairs and Prime Minister. And yet, at the time, if anyone had given me the choice between my present position and a trip across Europe with the object of my affections, I wouldn’t have hesitated.
Colby.
A merciful providence evidently had you under its care.
[Catherine gives a slight star
t and rises as she hears these words, and looks at him steadily.
Perigal.
Well, we must be off. We mustn’t let even this charming lady interfere too much with the working of the British Empire.
Catherine.
Good-bye.
Perigal.
You must get your mother to show you that photograph. Thirty years ago I thought the little hussy much more attractive than that. [Turning to Etchingham.] Good-bye, Frank. I hope your foot’ll be all right in a day or two.
[Perigal and Colby go out.
Etchingham.
I remember that little woman quite well. Not much to look at. I wondered at the time what Perigal saw in her.
Catherine.
You don’t want me just now, father, do you?
Etchingham.
No, dear. Are you going out?
Catherine.
I’m only going to my room. I want — I want to be alone for a little bit.
Etchingham.
Oh!
[Before she can give any explanation, the Butler comes in to announce Bennett, and she takes advantage of this to make her escape.
Thompson.
Mr. Bennett.
[Exit.
Etchingham.
Ah, Mr. Bennett, forgive me if I don’t get up.
Bennett.
I’m glad to see you’re better, my lord.
Etchingham.
Is anything the matter?
Bennett.
[Surprised.] I thought your lordship expected me. You telephoned?
Etchingham.
I?
Bennett.
Perhaps the Governor....
Etchingham.
[Interrupting.] Ah yes, of course. George didn’t mention it. I suppose he wants me to sign cheques. I can do it just as well here as at the office. I expect Mr. Winter is in. Would you mind ringing?
Bennett.
Certainly.
[Before he can ring, George Winter comes in.
George Winter.
I’ve given orders that no one is to be let up until those people arrive from Middlepool.
Etchingham.
By Jove, I’d forgotten all about them. I say, George, you made a mistake in letting them come.
George Winter.
And I’ve told Lady Francis that we shall want this room to ourselves, and no one’s to come in without knocking at the door.
Etchingham.
By the way, was it you who sent for Bennett?
George Winter.
It was. Your gout has come in very handy. Sit down, Fred. We’d better make ourselves cosy. Quite comfortable, Etchingham?
Etchingham.
Quite, thank you.
George Winter.
Foot all right?
Etchingham.
I don’t feel it at the moment.
[Throughout the next scene George Winter is as gay and jovial as possible. He is thoroughly amused by the torture he is inflicting. He plays with Francis Etchingham as a cat would with a mouse.
George Winter.
I thought you might like to know at once that Macdonald’s report on the mine has come.
Etchingham.
Ah, that’s good news. Now we can get to work at once.
George Winter.
Have you got it with you, Fred?
Bennett.
Yes, sir.
George Winter.
I’m sure his lordship would like to have a look at it.
Etchingham.
Yes, hand it over, Bennett. This is really a thrilling moment. I believe I’m going to make my fortune at last.
George Winter.
As you justly remark, it’s a thrilling moment.
[Bennett takes the report out of a despatch-case and hands it to Etchingham.
Etchingham.
Impressive document, isn’t it?
[He smoothes it out and begins to read. George Winter watches him with a certain amusement.
George Winter.
Rather technical, isn’t it?
Etchingham.
[Somewhat irritably.] Upon my soul, I don’t know why Macdonald can’t put it into plain English?
George Winter.
I’m thankful he didn’t put it any plainer.
Etchingham.
I must honestly confess that I don’t quite grasp what he means.
George Winter.
I thought you wouldn’t. The long and the short of it can be told in two words.
Etchingham.
[Putting down the report with a slight sigh of relief.] Ah!
George Winter.
The mine was practically worked out when we bought it. There’s no gold there worth speaking of. We’ve been done in the eye, and we’re eighty thousand pounds to the bad.
[There is a moment’s pause. Etchingham looks at George Winter blankly. Bennett glances nervously from one to the other.
Etchingham.
[Hardly able to speak, his tongue sticking to his throat.] You’re — you’re joking!
George Winter.
Read the report.
Etchingham.
[Looking at it helplessly.] Then....
George Winter.
Your fortune is beginning to look rather silly, isn’t it? So’s mine.
Etchingham.
Is this true, Mr. Bennett?
Bennett.
I’m afraid it is, my lord.
Etchingham.
My God! What’s to be done now?
George Winter.
What do you think ought to be done?
Etchingham.
I?
George Winter.
You’re chairman of the Syndicate. Your opinion can’t fail to be valuable.
Etchingham.
[Hesitatingly.] We must just pocket our loss.
George Winter.
H’m!
Bennett.
With things in their present state a loss like that is about as much as we can stand.
Etchingham.
The slump must come to an end soon.
George Winter.
We’ve been saying that for the last two months.
Etchingham.
Then what the deuce is to be done?
George Winter.
That’s what we’re asking you.
Bennett.
We’ve got the Lewishams to reckon with.
George Winter.
Now’s their time to make a raid on us.
Etchingham.
[Hoarsely.] It doesn’t mean that we smash up, George?
George Winter.
[Taking out his watch.] Boyce will be here in a quarter of an hour.
Etchingham.
George, don’t play the fool now. I’ve put all my eggs in this basket. I thought I was going to be rich at last. I wanted to get out of the whole thing. I wanted to live quietly and comfortably.
Bennett.
What are you going to do, Governor?
George Winter.
[Looking at Etchingham.] Suppress the report.
[Bennett gives a start, but does not speak.
George Winter.
Go ahead as if we believed in the mine. We’ve got the Government expert’s report on which we bought the thing. We’ll put that in the prospectus.
Etchingham.
But isn’t that dishonest?
George Winter.
Very.
Etchingham.
George!
George Winter.
It’s an axiom in mining circles that when you’ve got hold of a rotten thing the proper course is to pass it on to the British public.
Etchingham.
The public will find out there’s no gold there when you pay no dividends.
George Winter.
Oh, we’ll pay dividends for a year or two. By then we shall have turned the corner, and we’ll find another carrot for the British public.
Etchingham.
But you say yourself it�
�s dishonest.
George Winter.
There’s another point you seem to have forgotten.
Etchingham.
What is that?
[George Winter pauses and looks at him for an instant reflectively.
George Winter.
We paid for the mine with money that didn’t belong to us.
Etchingham.
What d’you mean?
George Winter.
We’re in exactly the same position as the shop-boy who sneaks five bob from his master’s till to put it on a horse. If the horse comes in he puts it back, and if it doesn’t, he gets a month’s hard labour.... We shall get seven years.
Etchingham.
What are you talking about, George?
George Winter.
Has it escaped your memory that you and I are Directors of the Middlepool Investment Trust?
Etchingham.
Well?
George Winter.
We had to plank down eighty thousand pounds within twenty-four hours or lose the mine.
Bennett.
It looked like a certainty.
George Winter.
At that moment it was impossible for us to raise anything like that sum. The bank held a hundred thousand pounds of bearer bonds for the Middlepool Investment Trust. They delivered them on an order signed by you, me, and Bennett. We borrowed on them and completed the purchase of a worthless mine.
Etchingham.
But I’ve never signed anything.
Bennett.
Yes, you did, my lord. They wouldn’t have delivered the bonds without.
Etchingham.
Then my signature’s been forged.
George Winter.
Don’t you remember one day, after an excellent luncheon at Pym’s, you were just off to a wedding, and I asked you to come up into the office and sign some papers?
Etchingham.
But I never looked at them. I didn’t know....
George Winter.
[Interrupting blandly.] Ah, that’s your affair.
Etchingham.
[Indignantly.] I shall go to the police.
George Winter.
D’you think you’ve got a plausible story to tell them? It sounds devilish improbable that a business man, a chairman of half a dozen companies, should sign documents without looking at them. Bennett and I will swear that you carefully read everything that was put before you — as, indeed, was your duty, my dear friend — and fully understood the nature of your act.
Etchingham.
Mr. Bennett, you’ll testify that I never realized for a moment what I was doing. You told me they were purely formal documents. I saw George sign them. I added my signature without hesitation.