Complete Works of J. M. Barrie

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Complete Works of J. M. Barrie Page 344

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  (He clasps her to him, and of course she was sure he would.)

  It isn’t really a shock to you, is it? Hugh, you don’t despise me in your heart for coming?

  Hugh. Dear, my dear!

  Lilian (merely playing with the idea). You are so fond of Egypt — perhaps it would be lovelier for you to go back to it alone.

  (We are sorry she says this, for she has put it into our own heads. They are about the same age, but as they sit there on one of his trunks he looks younger.)

  Hugh (who is far from agreeing with us). Egypt, without you? Horrible!

  Lilian. Was it seeming horrible before I came up the ladder?

  Hugh (abashed). Inconceivable if it wasn’t.

  Lilian. You were able to smoke.

  Hugh. Mechanically. (He remembers guiltily that he was even whistling.) Lilian, that man packing wasn’t me. I only began to be again when you lit up the doorway. Tell me, what made you change your mind so suddenly?

  Lilian. Not suddenly. I longed to go to you, but I was his wife. Hugh, did you hear me say I was his wife? What a lovely way of putting it!

  Hugh. My wife now and always.

  Lilian. The things he said tonight!

  Hugh. There, there, that is all over. You wrote the letter?

  Lilian. Yes, and left it for him.

  Hugh. You said in it that it was to me you were coming? I asked that of you because I want it all to be above-board. I am not afraid of him.

  Lilian. Yes, I said in it that I was going away with you, and I put his wedding-ring inside it. I have burned all my boats. Oh, Hugh, if it had turned out that you would rather not!

  Hugh. A nice sort of gent I’d be.

  Lilian. He thinks me a rotten, shallow creature. No, don’t interrupt. Perhaps I was so with him, dear. What was bad in each of us seemed to call to the other.

  Hugh. If yours ever calls to me I won’t recognise the voice.

  Lilian. He said that in any test I would always go where my bread was best buttered.

  Hugh. He will see his mistake when he finds you have come to me. (He starts up) I say! We mustn’t be late. Not another word if you love me. Try to make these catches snap, while I sit on the trunk. What are you smiling at?

  Lilian. I have just remembered, Hugh, that there were people coming to dinner tonight!

  Hugh (rising triumphant from his struggle with the trunk). I have just remembered something more important. (With accusing finger) Woman, where is your trousseau?

  Lilian. I have only what you see, my dear. Here is all the riches I bring you — four and sixpence. Please take care of my dowry for me, Hugh!

  Hugh. You poor one! But what fun to buy you a trousseau at Brindisi — if not before.

  (He rings.)

  Lilian (catching his gaiety). Are you proposing to send out a servant to get a trousseau for me?

  Hugh. What a capital idea! (As the little maid arrives) Susie, skip across to the nearest draper’s and buy me a trousseau.

  Susie. A what, sir?

  Hugh. I can only give you ten minutes — lots of time — sure to have them in stock — need of the age — all ready in Christmas hampers. (Looking Lilian over) Size five and a half by one and a quarter — hurry, old ‘un, fly.

  Susie. Whatever do he mean?

  Lilian. He only means that he wants a taxi.

  Susie. Oh, that! Mother’s gone out, and you know what father is, sir, but I’ll get it myself.

  Hugh. No, you don’t, Susie, not in the rain. Back in a jiffy, Lilian.

  (He is gone, and they hear his boisterous leap of the ladder.)

  Susie. He is just bubbling over, and all because he is going off to make dams.

  Lilian (asking too much). Has he been bubbling over for long, Susie?

  Susie (innocently giving it). For days and days. I used to think of him out in Egypt in a very dirty state till I saw a picture of him, all in laundry white, and riding on a camel.

  Lilian. The camel goes on its knees to him, Susie.

  Susie (heartily). I don’t wonder at it. (She is on her own knees giving those finishing touches to the baggage which she knows can only come from a woman’s hands.) There was a thing about him in the paper, and it said ‘The ball is at his feet.’

  Lilian. And it is. A great career.

  Susie (looking sometimes six and sometimes sixty). For him. But I have just to make ready for another lodger. That is all the great career there is for the likes of me. (Wistfully) I’m thinking there is a great career for you.

  Lilian (smiling). How, Susie?

  Susie. Him. (She rises.) I wonder would you let me see it. I have never seen them except in shop windows.

  Lilian. What?

  Susie. Fine you know. The thing that is on the third finger of your left hand.

  Lilian (showing a bare finger). Nothing, you see.

  Susie (sharp). You haven’t landed him yet?

  (She is so disappointed that Lilian is kind.)

  Lilian. All is lovely, Susie.

  Susie (who must have it plainer than that). You’ve got him?

  Lilian. I’ve got him.

  Susie. Lucky you!

  Lilian. Yes, lucky me. You mustn’t grudge him to me, Susie. I haven’t always been lucky with men.

  Susie. Men — oh, men! Most men deserves all they gets. (She screws up her eyes and opens them to explain.) I was just seeing you and him on your camels.

  (There is a knocking on the outer door.)

  Lilian. There he is.

  Susie. I haven’t got back his key. (She knows the familiar sounds of the mews.) It’s not him. There is something wrong.

  Lilian. Quick, Susie.

  (The child is gone for a moment, and Lilian is conscious of some disturbance in the passage below.)

  Susie (reappearing, terrified). Oh, miss!

  Lilian. Tell me.

  Susie. They are carrying him into his bedroom.

  Lilian. Not Mr. Paton? Speak!

  Susie. It’s him! He was run over.

  (She disappears again, but the tramp of feet is heard through the open door. A grave man comes up the ladder. He is wearing an overcoat and muffler and he closes the door.)

  Dr. Brodie. Poor lady! I suppose you ——

  Lilian. Tell me!

  Dr. Brodie. He was run over by a motor bus. It is very serious.

  Lilian. Tell me!

  Dr. Brodie. I must tell you. He is dead.

  Lilian. No, he isn’t.

  Dr. Brodie. He died as they picked him up.

  Lilian. It isn’t true.

  Dr. Brodie. A Mr. Paton, they tell me. I don’t know him. I am a doctor and I happened to be passing. He only spoke one word.

  Lilian. My name?

  Dr. Brodie. The word was Egypt.

  Lilian. He is going there. He had gone out for a taxi. So you see it can’t be true.

  Dr. Brodie. It is true, alas. (He gets her into a chair.) Mrs. Paton, I want to help you in any way possible. There seems to be no one in the house but a very useless man and a child. If you can give me the address of any male relative ——

  Lilian (starting up.) You mustn’t bring anyone here.

  Dr. Brodie. Just to help you with — I don’t quite — Excuse me, are you Mrs. Paton? (The pitiful look she gives him makes him avert his troubled eyes.) I am sure you will understand that I have no wish to intrude. But someone must communicate with the relatives. And of course an inquiry ——

  Lilian. You mean, I have no right to be here?

  Dr. Brodie. I don’t know whether you have a right or not. But you must know. (As she shrinks from him) Pardon me, I won’t disturb you any longer.

  Lilian. Don’t go. What am I to do?

  Dr. Brodie. If it is well for him to have it publicly known that you were here you will of course remain; but if it would not be well for him, my advice to you — as you ask for it, unhappy lady, is to go at once.

  Lilian (throwing out her arms). Where am I to go?

  Dr. Brodie. I know nothi
ng of the circumstances. I am only telling you what I think might be best for him.

  Lilian (dry-eyed). Is there to be no thought of what would be best for me?

  Dr. Brodie (gently). Might it not be best for you also?

  Lilian. I have nowhere to go — nowhere.

  (Perhaps he does not quite believe her, but if his manner hardens it is only to gain his point.)

  Dr. Brodie. Better that I should know nothing.

  Lilian. I am not what you think me.

  Dr. Brodie. No one is. But prove it, madam, by going.

  Lilian. What is to become of me? (He shakes his head.) I loved him — I risked everything for him — I am lost.

  Dr. Brodie. Those who risk all and lose have to face the consequences.

  Lilian. I was going with him.

  (He might say, “You can go with him still, unfortunate one, if you choose,” but of course he does not. Instead he opens the door respectfully. She bows, gives him a pitiful smile of thanks and goes away.

  Let us return to Garson’s house and see how his little dinner is faring.

  As Mr. Garson enters the room in evening dress, his bad temper removed with his clothes, he meets his butler.)

  Garson. Have I time to write a note, Withers?

  Withers. It is two minutes short of the half-hour, sir.

  Garson (going to his desk). Her ladyship not down yet?

  Withers. I believe not, sir.

  Garson. She isn’t usually late. I didn’t hear her in her room.

  Withers. Shall I send up to inquire, sir?

  Garson. Oh, no, she will be down directly, no doubt.

  (He sits at a desk and unlocks a drawer with his keys. It is the fatal drawer. Stretching out his hand for some papers he knows to be there, it encounters something metallic, which he draws out. Without rising he feels for further jewellery, but there is evidently no more. He has recognised his find but has no suspicions, and is sitting there chuckling over it when Withers announces two guests, Mr. and Mrs. Redding, both exuding opulence.)

  Redding. You seem to be having a little joke all to yourself, Garson.

  Garson. Ah, welcome both.

  Mrs. Redding. But the joke?

  (For reply their host holds up the jewels.)

  Redding. My eye! No joke for the party that footed the bill.

  Garson. I put my hand into that drawer for some papers, and it found these instead.

  Redding. All I can say is “Halves.”

  Mrs. Redding. Silly man, they are Lady Lilian’s. I know them quite well.

  Garson. The joke, Redding, is that I now see why my wife is late for dinner.

  Mrs. Redding. It is we who are early; but tell us.

  Garson. She must have shoved them in there — (with a certain pride) her set are more careless than ours — and then forgotten where she put them. I bet she is searching high and low for them at this moment.

  Mrs. Redding (who would like to say that her set can be fashionably careless also). The poor dear! But suppose some servant, the awful man who winds the clocks ——

  Garson. Oh, they were safe enough. She had happened to find the drawer unlocked but she had the sense to shut it, and all these drawers lock when they shut. (He shuts the drawer and it clicks, perhaps an effort to tell its master something.) I have the only key. (He puts the jewels into his pocket and greets another guest.)

  Withers. Dr. Brodie.

  Garson. Very pleased to see you, Brodie, in my little place.

  Dr. Brodie. Thank you, Garson. (He presumes that Mrs. Redding is his hostess) Lady Lilian, I am ——

  Garson. No, no, that isn’t Lady Lilian.

  Mrs. Redding (archly). Would that it were, Dr. Brodie!

  Redding (equally ready). Oh, come!

  Garson. Dr. Brodie — Mrs. Redding. You have met at the club, Redding.

  Redding. To be sure.

  Garson. I forgot you don’t know my wife, Brodie. She will be down in a moment. I must apologise for her being late.

  Mrs. Redding. Don’t fuss, Mr. Garson. Dr. Brodie knows what women are.

  Dr. Brodie. Not I, Mrs. Redding. But I was afraid I should be late myself.

  Redding. Something professional?

  Dr. Brodie. Accident in the street. Man knocked over by a motor bus — killed.

  Garson. Rough luck. I can’t think what is keeping Lady Lilian.

  Redding. Someone you knew, doctor?

  Dr. Brodie. No, but he seems to have done good work in India. Paton is the name.

  Garson. Paton? There was a Paton we met once at dinner who — no, Egypt was his place.

  Dr. Brodie. It was Egypt she said. Probably your man.

  Mrs. Redding. Was he married?

  Dr. Brodie. No, not married. (He sighs.) Poor devil!

  Redding. Surely better in the circumstances that he wasn’t married.

  Dr. Brodie. Oh, much better.

  Mrs. Redding. You said “poor devil.”

  Dr. Brodie. Did I? I was thinking of something else.

  Mrs. Redding. Of the lady?

  Dr. Brodie (not delighting in her). Did I say there was a lady?

  Mrs. Redding (smartly). You are saying it now.

  Redding. Got you, my friend!

  Dr. Brodie. Hm! (His desire is to drop the subject.) Beast of a night, Garson.

  Garson. Wet?

  Dr. Brodie. Drizzle. The most dismal sort of London night.

  Mrs. Redding. And the poor devil is out in it?

  Dr. Brodie. She is out in it, right enough.

  (Lady Lilian is not, however, out in it. She now sweeps in from upstairs in a delicious evening confection. She must have dressed in record time, for no doubt she lost a moment trying to open that drawer. She must even have raced her brain, which may be conceived by the fanciful as descending the stairs in pursuit of her.)

  Garson. You are terribly late, Lilian.

  (She knows at once that nothing has been discovered as yet, and her wits make up on her.)

  Lilian. Dear Mrs. Redding, I am so ashamed. Forgive me, kind Mr. Redding.

  Redding (a courtier when approached infantilely). All I can say, Lady Lilian, is that you were worth waiting for.

  (Then she sees the doctor, and the recognition is mutual.)

  Garson. Brodie, my wife at last. I forget, Lilian, whether I mentioned that Dr. Brodie had kindly promised to take pot-luck with us.

  Lilian. No, but I am so pleased, Dr. Brodie — any friend of my husband.

  Dr. Brodie. Thank you, Lady Lilian.

  Mrs. Redding. He has been telling us such a shocking story.

  Redding. It will spoil my dinner.

  Garson. Not quite, I hope, Redding.

  Redding. No, not quite.

  (They have both a gift for this sort of talk, and have sunny times together.)

  Mrs. Redding. A man killed in the street. Tell her, Dr. Brodie.

  Dr. Brodie. It wouldn’t interest Lady Lilian.

  Garson. Yes, by the way it would. You will remember him, Lil.

  Lilian. Someone I know?

  Garson. Paton is the name. I think it was at the Rossiters’ we met him.

  Lilian. A barrister?

  Garson. No, an engineer — abroad — in a small way.

  Lilian. A dark man, wasn’t he?

  Dr. Brodie. No, fair. Evidently if you ever knew him, Lady Lilian, you have forgotten him.

  Lilian. One meets so many.

  Dr. Brodie. Just so.

  Mrs. Redding. There was a woman in it, Lady Lilian. Do get him to tell us.

  Lilian (boldly). Why not?

  Dr. Brodie. Very well. I assure you I pitied her when I thought she was his wife, and still more when I found she wasn’t.

  Garson. That sort of woman!

  Lilian. What sort of woman, Richard?

 

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