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diff --git a/2906-h/2906-h.htm b/2906-h/2906-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..011d09f --- /dev/null +++ b/2906-h/2906-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4723 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + First Series Plays, THE SILVER BOX by John Galsworthy + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 5%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Project Gutenberg's The Silver Box (First Series Plays), by John Galsworthy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Silver Box (First Series Plays) + +Author: John Galsworthy + +Release Date: September 26, 2004 [EBook #2906] +Last Updated: October 28, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILVER BOX (FIRST SERIES *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <h2> + <i>GALSWORTHY'S PLAYS</i> + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + <i>Links to All Volumes</i> + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tr> + <td> + THE FIRST SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2906/2906-h/2906-h.htm"><b>The + Silver Box</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2907/2907-h/2907-h.htm"><b>Joy</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2908/2908-h/2908-h.htm"><b>Strife</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE SECOND SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2909/2909-h/2909-h.htm"><b>The + Eldest Son</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2910/2910-h/2910-h.htm"><b>Little + Dream</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2911/2911-h/2911-h.htm"><b>Justice</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE THIRD SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2912/2912-h/2912-h.htm"><b>The + Fugitive</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2913/2913-h/2913-h.htm"><b>The + Pigeon</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2914/2914-h/2914-h.htm"><b>The + Mob</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE FOURTH SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2915/2915-h/2915-h.htm"><b>A + Bit O'Love</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2916/2916-h/2916-h.htm"><b>The + Foundations</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2917/2917-h/2917-h.htm"><b>The + Skin Game</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE FIFTH SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4764/4764-h/4764-h.htm"><b>A + Family Man</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4765/4765-h/4765-h.htm"><b>Loyalties</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4766/4766-h/4766-h.htm"><b>Windows</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE SIXTH SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2918/2918-h/2918-h.htm"><b>The + First and Last</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2919/2919-h/2919-h.htm"><b>The + Little Man</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2920/2920-h/2920-h.htm"><b>Four + Short Plays</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <i>FIRST SERIES PLAYS</i> + </h2> + <h2> + By John Galsworthy + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE SILVER BOX + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <pre> + PERSONS OF THE PLAY + +JOHN BARTHWICK, M.P., a wealthy Liberal + +MRS. BARTHWICK, his wife + +JACK BARTHWICK, their son + +ROPER, their solicitor + +MRS. JONES, their charwoman + +MARLOW, their manservant + +WHEELER, their maidservant + +JONES, the stranger within their gates + +MRS. SEDDON, a landlady + +SNOW, a detective + +A POLICE MAGISTRATE + +AN UNKNOWN LADY, from beyond + +TWO LITTLE GIRLS, homeless + +LIVENS, their father + +A RELIEVING OFFICER + +A MAGISTRATE'S CLERK + +AN USHER POLICEMEN, CLERKS, AND OTHERS + + </pre> + <p> + TIME: The present. The action of the first two Acts takes place on Easter + Tuesday; the action of the third on Easter Wednesday week. + </p> + <p> + ACT I. + </p> + <pre> + SCENE I. Rockingham Gate. John Barthwick's dining-room. + + SCENE II. The same. + + SCENE III. The same. + </pre> + <p> + ACT II. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + SCENE I. The Jones's lodgings, Merthyr Street. SCENE II. John + Barthwick's dining-room. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ACT III. A London police court. <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tr> + <td> + + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>ACT I</b> </a><br /> <br /> + + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>ACT II</b> </a><br /> <br /> + + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>ACT III</b> </a> + + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + ACT I + </h1> + <h3> + SCENE I + </h3> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain rises on the BARTHWICK'S dining-room, large, modern, and + well furnished; the window curtains drawn. Electric light is burning. On + the large round dining-table is set out a tray with whisky, a syphon, + and a silver cigarette-box. It is past midnight. A fumbling is heard + outside the door. It is opened suddenly; JACK BARTHWICK seems to fall + into the room. He stands holding by the door knob, staring before him, + with a beatific smile. He is in evening dress and opera hat, and carries + in his hand a sky-blue velvet lady's reticule. His boyish face is + freshly coloured and clean-shaven. An overcoat is hanging on his arm. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. Hello! I've got home all ri——[Defiantly.] Who says I + sh'd never 've opened th' door without 'sistance. [He staggers in, + fumbling with the reticule. A lady's handkerchief and purse of crimson + silk fall out.] Serve her joll' well right—everything droppin' out. + Th' cat. I 've scored her off—I 've got her bag. [He swings the + reticule.] Serves her joly' well right. [He takes a cigarette out of the + silver box and puts it in his mouth.] Never gave tha' fellow anything! [He + hunts through all his pockets and pulls a shilling out; it drops and rolls + away. He looks for it.] Beastly shilling! [He looks again.] Base + ingratitude! Absolutely nothing. [He laughs.] Mus' tell him I've got + absolutely nothing. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He lurches through the door and down a corridor, and presently returns, + followed by JONES, who is advanced in liquor. JONES, about thirty years + of age, has hollow cheeks, black circles round his eyes, and rusty + clothes: He looks as though he might be unemployed, and enters in a + hang-dog manner.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. Sh! sh! sh! Don't you make a noise, whatever you do. Shu' the door, + an' have a drink. [Very solemnly.] You helped me to open the door—I + 've got nothin, for you. This is my house. My father's name's Barthwick; + he's Member of Parliament—Liberal Member of Parliament: I've told + you that before. Have a drink! [He pours out whisky and drinks it up.] I'm + not drunk [Subsiding on a sofa.] Tha's all right. Wha's your name? My + name's Barthwick, so's my father's; I'm a Liberal too—wha're you? + </p> + <p> + JONES. [In a thick, sardonic voice.] I'm a bloomin' Conservative. My + name's Jones! My wife works 'ere; she's the char; she works 'ere. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Jones? [He laughs.] There's 'nother Jones at College with me. I'm + not a Socialist myself; I'm a Liberal—there's ve—lill + difference, because of the principles of the Lib—Liberal Party. + We're all equal before the law—tha's rot, tha's silly. [Laughs.] + Wha' was I about to say? Give me some whisky. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JONES gives him the whisky he desires, together with a squirt of + syphon.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Wha' I was goin' tell you was—I 've had a row with her. [He waves + the reticule.] Have a drink, Jonessh 'd never have got in without you—tha + 's why I 'm giving you a drink. Don' care who knows I've scored her off. + Th' cat! [He throws his feet up on the sofa.] Don' you make a noise, + whatever you do. You pour out a drink—you make yourself good long, + long drink—you take cigarette—you take anything you like. Sh'd + never have got in without you. [Closing his eyes.] You're a Tory—you're + a Tory Socialist. I'm Liberal myself—have a drink—I 'm an + excel'nt chap. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [His head drops back. He, smiling, falls asleep, and JONES stands + looking at him; then, snatching up JACK's glass, he drinks it off. He + picks the reticule from off JACK'S shirt-front, holds it to the light, + and smells at it.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. Been on the tiles and brought 'ome some of yer cat's fur. [He + stuffs it into JACK's breast pocket.] + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Murmuring.] I 've scored you off! You cat! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JONES looks around him furtively; he pours out whisky and drinks it. + From the silver box he takes a cigarette, puffs at it, and drinks more + whisky. There is no sobriety left in him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. Fat lot o' things they've got 'ere! [He sees the crimson purse + lying on the floor.] More cat's fur. Puss, puss! [He fingers it, drops it + on the tray, and looks at JACK.] Calf! Fat calf! [He sees his own + presentment in a mirror. Lifting his hands, with fingers spread, he stares + at it; then looks again at JACK, clenching his fist as if to batter in his + sleeping, smiling face. Suddenly he tilts the rest o f the whisky into the + glass and drinks it. With cunning glee he takes the silver box and purse + and pockets them.] I 'll score you off too, that 's wot I 'll do! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He gives a little snarling laugh and lurches to the door. His shoulder + rubs against the switch; the light goes out. There is a sound as of a + closing outer door.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain falls. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + The curtain rises again at once. + </p> + <p> + SCENE II + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + In the BARTHWICK'S dining-room. JACK is still asleep; the morning light + is coming through the curtains. The time is half-past eight. WHEELER, + brisk person enters with a dust-pan, and MRS. JONES more slowly with a + scuttle. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + WHEELER. [Drawing the curtains.] That precious husband of yours was round + for you after you'd gone yesterday, Mrs. Jones. Wanted your money for + drink, I suppose. He hangs about the corner here half the time. I saw him + outside the "Goat and Bells" when I went to the post last night. If I were + you I would n't live with him. I would n't live with a man that raised his + hand to me. I wouldn't put up with it. Why don't you take your children + and leave him? If you put up with 'im it'll only make him worse. I never + can see why, because a man's married you, he should knock you about. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Slim, dark-eyed, and dark-haired; oval-faced, and with a + smooth, soft, even voice; her manner patient, her way of talking quite + impersonal; she wears a blue linen dress, and boots with holes.] It was + nearly two last night before he come home, and he wasn't himself. He made + me get up, and he knocked me about; he didn't seem to know what he was + saying or doing. Of course I would leave him, but I'm really afraid of + what he'd do to me. He 's such a violent man when he's not himself. + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. Why don't you get him locked up? You'll never have any peace + until you get him locked up. If I were you I'd go to the police court + tomorrow. That's what I would do. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Of course I ought to go, because he does treat me so badly + when he's not himself. But you see, Bettina, he has a very hard time—he + 's been out of work two months, and it preys upon his mind. When he's in + work he behaves himself much better. It's when he's out of work that he's + so violent. + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. Well, if you won't take any steps you 'll never get rid of him. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Of course it's very wearing to me; I don't get my sleep at + nights. And it 's not as if I were getting help from him, because I have + to do for the children and all of us. And he throws such dreadful things + up at me, talks of my having men to follow me about. Such a thing never + happens; no man ever speaks to me. And of course, it's just the other way. + It's what he does that's wrong and makes me so unhappy. And then he 's + always threatenin' to cut my throat if I leave him. It's all the drink, + and things preying on his mind; he 's not a bad man really. Sometimes + he'll speak quite kind to me, but I've stood so much from him, I don't + feel it in me to speak kind back, but just keep myself to myself. And he's + all right with the children too, except when he's not himself. + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. You mean when he's drunk, the beauty. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes. [Without change of voice] There's the young gentleman + asleep on the sofa. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [They both look silently at Jack.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [At last, in her soft voice.] He does n't look quite himself. + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. He's a young limb, that's what he is. It 's my belief he was + tipsy last night, like your husband. It 's another kind of bein' out of + work that sets him to drink. I 'll go and tell Marlow. This is his job. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She goes.] [Mrs. Jones, upon her knees, begins a gentle sweeping.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. [Waking.] Who's there? What is it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. It's me, sir, Mrs. Jones. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Sitting up and looking round.] Where is it—what—what + time is it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. It's getting on for nine o'clock, sir. + </p> + <p> + JACK. For nine! Why—what! [Rising, and loosening his tongue; putting + hands to his head, and staring hard at Mrs. Jones.] Look here, you, Mrs.——Mrs. + Jones—don't you say you caught me asleep here. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, sir, of course I won't sir. + </p> + <p> + JACK. It's quite an accident; I don't know how it happened. I must have + forgotten to go to bed. It's a queer thing. I 've got a most beastly + headache. Mind you don't say anything, Mrs. Jones. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Goes out and passes MARLOW in the doorway. MARLOW is young and quiet; + he is cleanshaven, and his hair is brushed high from his forehead in a + coxcomb. Incidentally a butler, he is first a man. He looks at MRS. + JONES, and smiles a private smile.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MARLOW. Not the first time, and won't be the last. Looked a bit dicky, eh, + Mrs. Jones? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. He did n't look quite himself. Of course I did n't take + notice. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. You're used to them. How's your old man? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Softly as throughout.] Well, he was very bad last night; he + did n't seem to know what he was about. He was very late, and he was most + abusive. But now, of course, he's asleep. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. That's his way of finding a job, eh? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. As a rule, Mr. Marlow, he goes out early every morning looking + for work, and sometimes he comes in fit to drop—and of course I + can't say he does n't try to get it, because he does. Trade's very bad. + [She stands quite still, her fan and brush before her, at the beginning + and the end of long vistas of experience, traversing them with her + impersonal eye.] But he's not a good husband to me—last night he hit + me, and he was so dreadfully abusive. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Bank 'oliday, eh! He 's too fond of the "Goat and Bells," that's + what's the matter with him. I see him at the corner late every night. He + hangs about. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. He gets to feeling very low walking about all day after work, + and being refused so often, and then when he gets a drop in him it goes to + his head. But he shouldn't treat his wife as he treats me. Sometimes I 've + had to go and walk about at night, when he wouldn't let me stay in the + room; but he's sorry for it afterwards. And he hangs about after me, he + waits for me in the street; and I don't think he ought to, because I 've + always been a good wife to him. And I tell him Mrs. Barthwick wouldn't + like him coming about the place. But that only makes him angry, and he + says dreadful things about the gentry. Of course it was through me that he + first lost his place, through his not treating me right; and that's made + him bitter against the gentry. He had a very good place as groom in the + country; but it made such a stir, because of course he did n't treat me + right. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Got the sack? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes; his employer said he couldn't keep him, because there was + a great deal of talk; and he said it was such a bad example. But it's very + important for me to keep my work here; I have the three children, and I + don't want him to come about after me in the streets, and make a + disturbance as he sometimes does. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [Holding up the empty decanter.] Not a drain! Next time he hits + you get a witness and go down to the court—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, I think I 've made up my mind. I think I ought to. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. That's right. Where's the ciga——? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He searches for the silver box; he looks at MRS. JONES, who is sweeping + on her hands and knees; he checks himself and stands reflecting. From + the tray he picks two half-smoked cigarettes, and reads the name on + them.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Nestor—where the deuce——? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [With a meditative air he looks again at MRS. JONES, and, taking up + JACK'S overcoat, he searches in the pockets. WHEELER, with a tray of + breakfast things, comes in.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MARLOW. [Aside to WHEELER.] Have you seen the cigarette-box? + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. No. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Well, it's gone. I put it on the tray last night. And he's been + smoking. [Showing her the ends of cigarettes.] It's not in these pockets. + He can't have taken it upstairs this morning! Have a good look in his room + when he comes down. Who's been in here? + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. Only me and Mrs. Jones. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. I 've finished here; shall I do the drawing-room now? + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. [Looking at her doubtfully.] Have you seen——Better do + the boudwower first. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. JONES goes out with pan and brush. MARLOW and WHEELER look each + other in the face.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MARLOW. It'll turn up. + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. [Hesitating.] You don't think she—— [Nodding at the + door.] + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [Stoutly.] I don't——I never believes anything of + anybody. + </p> + <p> + WHEELER. But the master'll have to be told. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. You wait a bit, and see if it don't turn up. Suspicion's no + business of ours. I set my mind against it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain falls. + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain rises again at once. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + SCENE III + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK and MRS. BARTHWICK are seated at the breakfast table. He is a + man between fifty and sixty; quietly important, with a bald forehead, + and pince-nez, and the "Times" in his hand. She is a lady of nearly + fifty, well dressed, with greyish hair, good features, and a decided + manner. They face each other. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [From behind his paper.] The Labour man has got in at the + by-election for Barnside, my dear. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Another Labour? I can't think what on earth the country is + about. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I predicted it. It's not a matter of vast importance. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Not? How can you take it so calmly, John? To me it's + simply outrageous. And there you sit, you Liberals, and pretend to + encourage these people! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Frowning.] The representation of all parties is necessary for + any proper reform, for any proper social policy. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I've no patience with your talk of reform—all that + nonsense about social policy. We know perfectly well what it is they want; + they want things for themselves. Those Socialists and Labour men are an + absolutely selfish set of people. They have no sense of patriotism, like + the upper classes; they simply want what we've got. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Want what we've got! [He stares into space.] My dear, what are + you talking about? [With a contortion.] I 'm no alarmist. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Cream? Quite uneducated men! Wait until they begin to tax + our investments. I 'm convinced that when they once get a chance they will + tax everything—they 've no feeling for the country. You Liberals and + Conservatives, you 're all alike; you don't see an inch before your noses. + You've no imagination, not a scrap of imagination between you. You ought + to join hands and nip it in the bud. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. You 're talking nonsense! How is it possible for Liberals and + Conservatives to join hands, as you call it? That shows how absurd it is + for women——Why, the very essence of a Liberal is to trust in + the people! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Now, John, eat your breakfast. As if there were any real + difference between you and the Conservatives. All the upper classes have + the same interests to protect, and the same principles. [Calmly.] Oh! + you're sitting upon a volcano, John. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I read a letter in the paper yesterday. I forget the man's + name, but it made the whole thing perfectly clear. You don't look things + in the face. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Indeed! [Heavily.] I am a Liberal! Drop the subject, please! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Toast? I quite agree with what this man says: Education is + simply ruining the lower classes. It unsettles them, and that's the worst + thing for us all. I see an enormous difference in the manner of servants. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK, [With suspicious emphasis.] I welcome any change that will lead + to something better. [He opens a letter.] H'm! This is that affair of + Master Jack's again. "High Street, Oxford. Sir, We have received Mr. John + Barthwick, Senior's, draft for forty pounds!" Oh! the letter's to him! "We + now enclose the cheque you cashed with us, which, as we stated in our + previous letter, was not met on presentation at your bank. We are, Sir, + yours obediently, Moss and Sons, Tailors." H 'm! [Staring at the cheque.] + A pretty business altogether! The boy might have been prosecuted. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Come, John, you know Jack did n't mean anything; he only + thought he was overdrawing. I still think his bank ought to have cashed + that cheque. They must know your position. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Replacing in the envelope the letter and the cheque.] Much + good that would have done him in a court of law. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He stops as JACK comes in, fastening his waistcoat and staunching a + razor cut upon his chin.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. [Sitting down between them, and speaking with an artificial + joviality.] Sorry I 'm late. [He looks lugubriously at the dishes.] Tea, + please, mother. Any letters for me? [BARTHWICK hands the letter to him.] + But look here, I say, this has been opened! I do wish you would n't—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Touching the envelope.] I suppose I 'm entitled to this name. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Sulkily.] Well, I can't help having your name, father! [He reads + the letter, and mutters.] Brutes! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Eyeing him.] You don't deserve to be so well out of that. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Haven't you ragged me enough, dad? + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Yes, John, let Jack have his breakfast. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. If you hadn't had me to come to, where would you have been? + It's the merest accident—suppose you had been the son of a poor man + or a clerk. Obtaining money with a cheque you knew your bank could not + meet. It might have ruined you for life. I can't see what's to become of + you if these are your principles. I never did anything of the sort myself. + </p> + <p> + JACK. I expect you always had lots of money. If you've got plenty of + money, of course—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. On the contrary, I had not your advantages. My father kept me + very short of money. + </p> + <p> + JACK. How much had you, dad? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. It's not material. The question is, do you feel the gravity of + what you did? + </p> + <p> + JACK. I don't know about the gravity. Of course, I 'm very sorry if you + think it was wrong. Have n't I said so! I should never have done it at all + if I had n't been so jolly hard up. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. How much of that forty pounds have you got left, Jack? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Hesitating.] I don't know—not much. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. How much? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Desperately.] I have n't got any. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What? + </p> + <p> + JACK. I know I 've got the most beastly headache. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He leans his head on his hand.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Headache? My dear boy! Can't you eat any breakfast? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Drawing in his breath.] Too jolly bad! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I'm so sorry. Come with me; dear; I'll give you something + that will take it away at once. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [They leave the room; and BARTHWICK, tearing up the letter, goes to the + fireplace and puts the pieces in the fire. While he is doing this MARLOW + comes in, and looking round him, is about quietly to withdraw.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What's that? What d 'you want? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. I was looking for Mr. John, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What d' you want Mr. John for? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [With hesitation.] I thought I should find him here, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Suspiciously.] Yes, but what do you want him for? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [Offhandedly.] There's a lady called—asked to speak to him + for a minute, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. A lady, at this time in the morning. What sort of a lady? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [Without expression in his voice.] I can't tell, sir; no + particular sort. She might be after charity. She might be a Sister of + Mercy, I should think, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Is she dressed like one? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. No, sir, she's in plain clothes, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Did n't she say what she wanted? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. No sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Where did you leave her? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. In the hall, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. In the hall? How do you know she's not a thief—not got + designs on the house? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. No, sir, I don't fancy so, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Well, show her in here; I'll see her myself. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MARLOW goes out with a private gesture of dismay. He soon returns, + ushering in a young pale lady with dark eyes and pretty figure, in a + modish, black, but rather shabby dress, a black and white trimmed hat + with a bunch of Parma violets wrongly placed, and fuzzy-spotted veil. At + the Sight of MR. BARTHWICK she exhibits every sign of nervousness. + MARLOW goes out.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + UNKNOWN LADY. Oh! but—I beg pardon there's some mistake—I [She + turns to fly.] + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Whom did you want to see, madam? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Stopping and looking back.] It was Mr. John Barthwick I wanted + to see. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I am John Barthwick, madam. What can I have the pleasure of + doing for you? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. Oh! I—I don't [She drops her eyes. BARTHWICK scrutinises + her, and purses his lips.] + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. It was my son, perhaps, you wished to see? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Quickly.] Yes, of course, it's your son. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking to? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Appeal and hardiness upon her face.] My name is——oh! + it does n't matter—I don't want to make any fuss. I just want to see + your son for a minute. [Boldly.] In fact, I must see him. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Controlling his uneasiness.] My son is not very well. If + necessary, no doubt I could attend to the matter; be so kind as to let me + know—— + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. Oh! but I must see him—I 've come on purpose—[She + bursts out nervously.] I don't want to make any fuss, but the fact is, + last—last night your son took away—he took away my [She + stops.] + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Severely.] Yes, madam, what? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. He took away my—my reticule. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Your reti——? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. I don't care about the reticule; it's not that I want—I 'm + sure I don't want to make any fuss—[her face is quivering]—but + —but—all my money was in it! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. In what—in what? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. In my purse, in the reticule. It was a crimson silk purse. + Really, I wouldn't have come—I don't want to make any fuss. But I + must get my money back—mustn't I? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Do you tell me that my son——? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. Oh! well, you see, he was n't quite I mean he was + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She smiles mesmerically.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I beg your pardon. + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Stamping her foot.] Oh! don't you see—tipsy! We had a + quarrel. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Scandalised.] How? Where? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Defiantly.] At my place. We'd had supper at the——and + your son—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Pressing the bell.] May I ask how you knew this house? Did he + give you his name and address? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Glancing sidelong.] I got it out of his overcoat. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Sardonically.] Oh! you got it out of his overcoat. And may I + ask if my son will know you by daylight? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + UNKNOWN. Know me? I should jolly—I mean, of course he will! + [MARLOW comes in.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Ask Mr. John to come down. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MARLOW goes out, and BARTHWICK walks uneasily about.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + And how long have you enjoyed his acquaintanceship? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. Only since—only since Good Friday. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I am at a loss—I repeat I am at a—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He glances at this unknown lady, who stands with eyes cast down, + twisting her hands And suddenly Jack appears. He stops on seeing who is + here, and the unknown lady hysterically giggles. There is a silence.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Portentously.] This young—er—lady says that last + night—I think you said last night madam—you took away—— + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Impulsively.] My reticule, and all my money was in a crimson + silk purse. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Reticule. [Looking round for any chance to get away.] I don't know + anything about it. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] Come, do you deny seeing this young lady last night? + </p> + <p> + JACK. Deny? No, of course. [Whispering.] Why did you give me away like + this? What on earth did you come here for? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Tearfully.] I'm sure I didn't want to—it's not likely, is + it? You snatched it out of my hand—you know you did—and the + purse had all my money in it. I did n't follow you last night because I + did n't want to make a fuss and it was so late, and you were so—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Come, sir, don't turn your back on me—explain! + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Desperately.] I don't remember anything about it. [In a low voice + to his friend.] Why on earth could n't you have written? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Sullenly.] I want it now; I must have, it—I 've got to pay + my rent to-day. [She looks at BARTHWICK.] They're only too glad to jump on + people who are not—not well off. + </p> + <p> + JACK. I don't remember anything about it, really. I don't remember + anything about last night at all. [He puts his hand up to his head.] It's + all—cloudy, and I 've got such a beastly headache. + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. But you took it; you know you did. You said you'd score me off. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Well, then, it must be here. I remember now—I remember + something. Why did I take the beastly thing? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Yes, why did you take the beastly——[He turns + abruptly to the window.] + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [With her mesmeric smile.] You were n't quite were you? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Smiling pallidly.] I'm awfully sorry. If there's anything I can do—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Do? You can restore this property, I suppose. + </p> + <p> + JACK. I'll go and have a look, but I really don't think I 've got it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He goes out hurriedly. And BARTHWICK, placing a chair, motions to the + visitor to sit; then, with pursed lips, he stands and eyes her fixedly. + She sits, and steals a look at him; then turns away, and, drawing up her + veil, stealthily wipes her eyes. And Jack comes back.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. [Ruefully holding out the empty reticule.] Is that the thing? I 've + looked all over—I can't find the purse anywhere. Are you sure it was + there? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Tearfully.] Sure? Of course I'm sure. A crimson silk purse. It + was all the money I had. + </p> + <p> + JACK. I really am awfully sorry—my head's so jolly bad. I 've asked + the butler, but he has n't seen it. + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. I must have my money—— + </p> + <p> + JACK. Oh! Of course—that'll be all right; I'll see that that's all + right. How much? + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Sullenly.] Seven pounds-twelve—it's all I 've got in the + world. + </p> + <p> + JACK. That'll be all right; I'll—send you a cheque. + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Eagerly.] No; now, please. Give me what was in my purse; I've + got to pay my rent this morning. They won't' give me another day; I'm a + fortnight behind already. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Blankly.] I'm awfully sorry; I really have n't a penny in my + pocket. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He glances stealthily at BARTHWICK.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Excitedly.] Come I say you must—it's my money, and you + took it. I 'm not going away without it. They 'll turn me out of my place. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Clasping his head.] But I can't give you what I have n't got. Don't + I tell you I have n't a beastly cent. + </p> + <p> + UNKNOWN. [Tearing at her handkerchief.] Oh! do give it me! [She puts her + hands together in appeal; then, with sudden fierceness.] If you don't I'll + summons you. It's stealing, that's what it is! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Uneasily.] One moment, please. As a matter of—-er + —principle, I shall settle this claim. [He produces money.] Here is + eight pounds; the extra will cover the value of the purse and your cab + fares. I need make no comment—no thanks are necessary. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Touching the bell, he holds the door ajar in silence. The unknown lady + stores the money in her reticule, she looks from JACK to BARTHWICK, and + her face is quivering faintly with a smile. She hides it with her hand, + and steals away. Behind her BARTHWICK shuts the door.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [With solemnity.] H'm! This is nice thing to happen! + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Impersonally.] What awful luck! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. So this is the way that forty pounds has gone! One thing after + another! Once more I should like to know where you 'd have been if it had + n't been for me! You don't seem to have any principles. You—you're + one of those who are a nuisance to society; you—you're dangerous! + What your mother would say I don't know. Your conduct, as far as I can + see, is absolutely unjustifiable. It's—it's criminal. Why, a poor + man who behaved as you've done —d' you think he'd have any mercy + shown him? What you want is a good lesson. You and your sort are—[he + speaks with feeling]—a nuisance to the community. Don't ask me to + help you next time. You're not fit to be helped. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Turning upon his sire, with unexpected fierceness.] All right, I + won't then, and see how you like it. You would n't have helped me this + time, I know, if you had n't been scared the thing would get into the + papers. Where are the cigarettes? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Regarding him uneasily.] Well I 'll say no more about it. [He + rings the bell.] I 'll pass it over for this once, but—— + [MARLOW Comes in.] You can clear away. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He hides his face behind the "Times."] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. [Brightening.] I say, Marlow, where are the cigarettes? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. I put the box out with the whisky last night, sir, but this + morning I can't find it anywhere. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Did you look in my room? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, sir; I've looked all over the house. I found two Nestor ends + in the tray this morning, so you must have been smokin' last night, sir. + [Hesitating.] I 'm really afraid some one's purloined the box. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Uneasily.] Stolen it! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What's that? The cigarette-box! Is anything else missing? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. No, sir; I 've been through the plate. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Was the house all right this morning? None of the windows open? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. No, sir. [Quietly to JACK.] You left your latch-key in the door + last night, sir. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He hands it back, unseen by BARTHWICK] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. Tst! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Who's been in the room this morning? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Me and Wheeler, and Mrs. Jones is all, sir, as far as I know. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Have you asked Mrs. Barthwick? + </p> + <p> + [To JACK.] Go and ask your mother if she's had it; ask her to look and see + if she's missed anything else. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JACK goes upon this mission.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Nothing is more disquieting than losing things like this. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. No, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Have you any suspicions? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW, No, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. This Mrs. Jones—how long has she been working here? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Only this last month, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What sort of person? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. I don't know much about her, sir; seems a very quiet, respectable + woman. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Who did the room this morning? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Wheeler and Mrs. Jones, Sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [With his forefinger upraised.] Now, was this Mrs. Jones in the + room alone at any time? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [Expressionless.] Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. How do you know that? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [Reluctantly.] I found her here, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And has Wheeler been in the room alone? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. No, sir, she's not, sir. I should say, sir, that Mrs. Jones seems + a very honest—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Holding up his hand.] I want to know this: Has this Mrs. Jones + been here the whole morning? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, sir—no, sir—she stepped over to the greengrocer's + for cook. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. H'm! Is she in the house now? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Very good. I shall make a point of clearing this up. On + principle I shall make a point of fixing the responsibility; it goes to + the foundations of security. In all your interests—— + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What sort of circumstances is this Mrs. Jones in? Is her + husband in work? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. I believe not, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Very well. Say nothing about it to any one. Tell Wheeler not to + speak of it, and ask Mrs. Jones to step up here. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Very good, sir. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MARLOW goes out, his face concerned; and BARTHWICK stays, his face + judicial and a little pleased, as befits a man conducting an inquiry. + MRS. BARTHWICK and hey son come in.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Well, my dear, you've not seen it, I suppose? + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. No. But what an extraordinary thing, John! Marlow, of + course, is out of the question. I 'm certain none of the maids as for + cook! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Oh, cook! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Of course! It's perfectly detestable to me to suspect + anybody. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. It is not a question of one's feelings. It's a question of + justice. On principle—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I should n't be a bit surprised if the charwoman knew + something about it. It was Laura who recommended her. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Judicially.] I am going to have Mrs. Jones up. Leave it to me; + and—er—remember that nobody is guilty until they're proved so. + I shall be careful. I have no intention of frightening her; I shall give + her every chance. I hear she's in poor circumstances. If we are not able + to do much for them we are bound to have the greatest sympathy with the + poor. [MRS. JONES comes in.] [Pleasantly.] Oh! good morning, Mrs. Jones. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Soft, and even, unemphatic.] Good morning, sir! Good morning, + ma'am! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. About your husband—he's not in work, I hear? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, sir; of course he's not in work just now. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Then I suppose he's earning nothing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, sir, he's not earning anything just now, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And how many children have you? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Three children; but of course they don't eat very much sir. [A + little silence.] + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And how old is the eldest? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Nine years old, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Do they go to school? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES, Yes, sir, they all three go to school every day. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Severely.] And what about their food when you're out at work? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Well, Sir, I have to give them their dinner to take with them. + Of course I 'm not always able to give them anything; sometimes I have to + send them without; but my husband is very good about the children when + he's in work. But when he's not in work of course he's a very difficult + man. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. He drinks, I suppose? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir. Of course I can't say he does n't drink, because he + does. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And I suppose he takes all your money? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, sir, he's very good about my money, except when he's not + himself, and then, of course, he treats me very badly. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Now what is he—your husband? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. By profession, sir, of course he's a groom. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. A groom! How came he to lose his place? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. He lost his place a long time ago, sir, and he's never had a + very long job since; and now, of course, the motor-cars are against him. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. When were you married to him, Mrs. Jones? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Eight years ago, sir that was in—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] Eight? You said the eldest child was nine. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, ma'am; of course that was why he lost his place. He did + n't treat me rightly, and of course his employer said he couldn't keep him + because of the example. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. You mean he—ahem—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir; and of course after he lost his place he married me. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. You actually mean to say you—you were—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. My dear—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Indignantly.] How disgraceful! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Hurriedly.] And where are you living now, Mrs. Jones? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. We've not got a home, sir. Of course we've been obliged to put + away most of our things. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Put your things away! You mean to—to—er—to + pawn them? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, to put them away. We're living in Merthyr Street—that + is close by here, sir—at No. 34. We just have the one room. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And what do you pay a week? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. We pay six shillings a week, sir, for a furnished room. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And I suppose you're behind in the rent? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, we're a little behind in the rent. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. But you're in good work, aren't you? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Well, Sir, I have a day in Stamford Place Thursdays. And + Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays I come here. But to-day, of course, is + a half-day, because of yesterday's Bank Holiday. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I see; four days a week, and you get half a crown a day, is + that it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, and my dinner; but sometimes it's only half a day, + and that's eighteen pence. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And when your husband earns anything he spends it in drink, I + suppose? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Sometimes he does, sir, and sometimes he gives it to me for + the children. Of course he would work if he could get it, sir, but it + seems there are a great many people out of work. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Ah! Yes. We—er—won't go into that. + [Sympathetically.] And how about your work here? Do you find it hard? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Oh! no, sir, not very hard, sir; except of course, when I + don't get my sleep at night. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Ah! And you help do all the rooms? And sometimes, I suppose, + you go out for cook? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. And you 've been out this morning? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, of course I had to go to the greengrocer's. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Exactly. So your husband earns nothing? And he's a bad + character. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, Sir, I don't say that, sir. I think there's a great deal + of good in him; though he does treat me very bad sometimes. And of course + I don't like to leave him, but I think I ought to, because really I hardly + know how to stay with him. He often raises his hand to me. Not long ago he + gave me a blow here [touches her breast] and I can feel it now. So I think + I ought to leave him, don't you, sir? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Ah! I can't help you there. It's a very serious thing to leave + your husband. Very serious thing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, of course I 'm afraid of what he might do to me if I + were to leave him; he can be so very violent. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. H'm! Well, that I can't pretend to say anything about. It's the + bad principle I'm speaking of—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir; I know nobody can help me. I know I must decide for + myself, and of course I know that he has a very hard life. And he's fond + of the children, and its very hard for him to see them going without food. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Hastily.] Well—er—thank you, I just wanted to hear + about you. I don't think I need detain you any longer, Mrs. Jones. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, sir, thank you, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Good morning, then. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Good morning, sir; good morning, ma'am. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Exchanging glances with his wife.] By the way, Mrs. Jones—I + think it is only fair to tell you, a silver cigarette-box —er—is + missing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Looking from one face to the other.] I am very sorry, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Yes; you have not seen it, I suppose? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Realising that suspicion is upon her; with an uneasy + movement.] Where was it, sir; if you please, sir? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Evasively.] Where did Marlow say? Er—in this room, yes, + in this room. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, Sir, I have n't seen it—of course if I 'd seen it I + should have noticed it. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Giving hey a rapid glance.] You—you are sure of that? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Impassively.] Yes, Sir. [With a slow nodding of her head.] I + have not seen it, and of course I don't know where it is. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She turns and goes quietly out.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. H'm! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The three BARTHWICKS avoid each other's glances.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain falls. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + ACT II + </h1> + <h3> + SCENE I + </h3> + <blockquote> + <p> + The JONES's lodgings, Merthyr Street, at half-past two o'clock. The bare + room, with tattered oilcloth and damp, distempered walls, has an air of + tidy wretchedness. On the bed lies JONES, half-dressed; his coat is + thrown across his feet, and muddy boots are lying on the floor close by. + He is asleep. The door is opened and MRS. JONES comes in, dressed in a + pinched black jacket and old black sailor hat; she carries a parcel + wrapped up in the "Times." She puts her parcel down, unwraps an apron, + half a loaf, two onions, three potatoes, and a tiny piece of bacon. + Taking a teapot from the cupboard, she rinses it, shakes into it some + powdered tea out of a screw of paper, puts it on the hearth, and sitting + in a wooden chair quietly begins to cry. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. [Stirring and yawning.] That you? What's the time? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Drying her eyes, and in her usual voice.] Half-past two. + </p> + <p> + JONES. What you back so soon for? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. I only had the half day to-day, Jem. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [On his back, and in a drowsy voice.] Got anything for dinner? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Mrs. BARTHWICK's cook gave me a little bit of bacon. I'm going + to make a stew. [She prepares for cooking.] There's fourteen shillings + owing for rent, James, and of course I 've only got two and fourpence. + They'll be coming for it to-day. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Turning towards her on his elbow.] Let 'em come and find my + surprise packet. I've had enough o' this tryin' for work. Why should I go + round and round after a job like a bloomin' squirrel in a cage. "Give us a + job, sir"—"Take a man on"—"Got a wife and three children." + Sick of it I am! I 'd sooner lie here and rot. "Jones, you come and join + the demonstration; come and 'old a flag, and listen to the ruddy orators, + and go 'ome as empty as you came." There's some that seems to like that—the + sheep! When I go seekin' for a job now, and see the brutes lookin' me up + an' down, it's like a thousand serpents in me. I 'm not arskin' for any + treat. A man wants to sweat hisself silly and not allowed that's a rum + start, ain't it? A man wants to sweat his soul out to keep the breath in + him and ain't allowed—that's justice that's freedom and all the rest + of it! [He turns his face towards the wall.] You're so milky mild; you + don't know what goes on inside o' me. I'm done with the silly game. If + they want me, let 'em come for me! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. JONES stops cooking and stands unmoving at the table.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I've tried and done with it, I tell you. I've never been afraid of what 's + before me. You mark my words—if you think they've broke my spirit, + you're mistook. I 'll lie and rot sooner than arsk 'em again. What makes + you stand like that—you long-sufferin', Gawd-forsaken image—that's + why I can't keep my hands off you. So now you know. Work! You can work, + but you have n't the spirit of a louse! + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Quietly.] You talk more wild sometimes when you're yourself, + James, than when you 're not. If you don't get work, how are we to go on? + They won't let us stay here; they're looking to their money to-day, I + know. + </p> + <p> + JONES. I see this BARTHWICK o' yours every day goin' down to Pawlyment + snug and comfortable to talk his silly soul out; an' I see that young + calf, his son, swellin' it about, and goin' on the razzle-dazzle. Wot 'ave + they done that makes 'em any better than wot I am? They never did a day's + work in their lives. I see 'em day after day. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. And I wish you wouldn't come after me like that, and hang + about the house. You don't seem able to keep away at all, and whatever you + do it for I can't think, because of course they notice it. + </p> + <p> + JONES. I suppose I may go where I like. Where may I go? The other day I + went to a place in the Edgware Road. "Gov'nor," I says to the boss, "take + me on," I says. "I 'aven't done a stroke o' work not these two months; it + takes the heart out of a man," I says; "I 'm one to work; I 'm not afraid + of anything you can give me!" "My good man," 'e says, "I 've had thirty of + you here this morning. I took the first two," he says, "and that's all I + want." "Thank you, then rot the world!" I says. "Blasphemin'," he says, + "is not the way to get a job. Out you go, my lad!" [He laughs + sardonically.] Don't you raise your voice because you're starvin'; don't + yer even think of it; take it lyin' down! Take it like a sensible man, + carn't you? And a little way down the street a lady says to me: [Pinching + his voice] "D' you want to earn a few pence, my man?" and gives me her dog + to 'old outside a shop-fat as a butler 'e was—tons o' meat had gone + to the makin' of him. It did 'er good, it did, made 'er feel 'erself that + charitable, but I see 'er lookin' at the copper standin' alongside o' me, + for fear I should make off with 'er bloomin' fat dog. [He sits on the edge + of the bed and puts a boot on. Then looking up.] What's in that head o' + yours? [Almost pathetically.] Carn't you speak for once? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There is a knock, and MRS. SEDDON, the landlady, appears, an anxious, + harassed, shabby woman in working clothes.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. SEDDON. I thought I 'eard you come in, Mrs. Jones. I 've spoke to my + 'usband, but he says he really can't afford to wait another day. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [With scowling jocularity.] Never you mind what your 'usband says, + you go your own way like a proper independent woman. Here, jenny, chuck + her that. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Producing a sovereign from his trousers pocket, he throws it to his + wife, who catches it in her apron with a gasp. JONES resumes the lacing + of his boots.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Rubbing the sovereign stealthily.] I'm very sorry we're so + late with it, and of course it's fourteen shillings, so if you've got six + that will be right. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. SEDDON takes the sovereign and fumbles for the change.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. [With his eyes fixed on his boots.] Bit of a surprise for yer, + ain't it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. SEDDON. Thank you, and I'm sure I'm very much obliged. [She does + indeed appear surprised.] I 'll bring you the change. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Mockingly.] Don't mention it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. SEDDON. Thank you, and I'm sure I'm very much obliged. [She slides + away.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. JONES gazes at JONES who is still lacing up his boots.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. I 've had a bit of luck. [Pulling out the crimson purse and some + loose coins.] Picked up a purse—seven pound and more. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Oh, James! + </p> + <p> + JONES. Oh, James! What about Oh, James! I picked it up I tell you. This is + lost property, this is! + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. But is n't there a name in it, or something? + </p> + <p> + JONES. Name? No, there ain't no name. This don't belong to such as 'ave + visitin' cards. This belongs to a perfec' lidy. Tike an' smell it. [He + pitches her the purse, which she puts gently to her nose.] Now, you tell + me what I ought to have done. You tell me that. You can always tell me + what I ought to ha' done, can't yer? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Laying down the purse.] I can't say what you ought to have + done, James. Of course the money was n't yours; you've taken somebody + else's money. + </p> + <p> + JONES. Finding's keeping. I 'll take it as wages for the time I 've gone + about the streets asking for what's my rights. I'll take it for what's + overdue, d' ye hear? [With strange triumph.] I've got money in my pocket, + my girl. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. JONES goes on again with the preparation of the meal, JONES + looking at her furtively.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Money in my pocket! And I 'm not goin' to waste it. With this 'ere money + I'm goin' to Canada. I'll let you have a pound. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [A silence.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + You've often talked of leavin' me. You 've often told me I treat you badly—well + I 'ope you 'll be glad when I 'm gone. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Impassively.] You have, treated me very badly, James, and of + course I can't prevent your going; but I can't tell whether I shall be + glad when you're gone. + </p> + <p> + JONES. It'll change my luck. I 've 'ad nothing but bad luck since I first + took up with you. [More softly.] And you've 'ad no bloomin' picnic. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Of course it would have been better for us if we had never + met. We were n't meant for each other. But you're set against me, that's + what you are, and you have been for a long time. And you treat me so + badly, James, going after that Rosie and all. You don't ever seem to think + of the children that I 've had to bring into the world, and of all the + trouble I 've had to keep them, and what 'll become of them when you're + gone. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Crossing the room gloomily.] If you think I want to leave the + little beggars you're bloomin' well mistaken. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Of course I know you're fond of them. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Fingering the purse, half angrily.] Well, then, you stow it, old + girl. The kids 'll get along better with you than when I 'm here. If I 'd + ha' known as much as I do now, I 'd never ha' had one o' them. What's the + use o' bringin' 'em into a state o' things like this? It's a crime, that's + what it is; but you find it out too late; that's what's the matter with + this 'ere world. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He puts the purse back in his pocket.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Of course it would have been better for them, poor little + things; but they're your own children, and I wonder at you talkin' like + that. I should miss them dreadfully if I was to lose them. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Sullenly.] An' you ain't the only one. If I make money out there—[Looking + up, he sees her shaking out his coat—in a changed voice.] Leave that + coat alone! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The silver box drops from the pocket, scattering the cigarettes upon + the bed. Taking up the box she stares at it; he rushes at her and + snatches the box away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Cowering back against the bed.] Oh, Jem! oh, Jem! + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Dropping the box onto the table.] You mind what you're sayin'! + When I go out I 'll take and chuck it in the water along with that there + purse. I 'ad it when I was in liquor, and for what you do when you 're in + liquor you're not responsible-and that's Gawd's truth as you ought to + know. I don't want the thing—I won't have it. I took it out o' + spite. I 'm no thief, I tell you; and don't you call me one, or it'll be + the worse for you. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Twisting her apron strings.] It's Mr. Barthwick's! You've + taken away my reputation. Oh, Jem, whatever made you? + </p> + <p> + JONES. What d' you mean? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. It's been missed; they think it's me. Oh! whatever made you do + it, Jem? + </p> + <p> + JONES. I tell you I was in liquor. I don't want it; what's the good of it + to me? If I were to pawn it they'd only nab me. I 'm no thief. I 'm no + worse than wot that young Barthwick is; he brought 'ome that purse that I + picked up—a lady's purse—'ad it off 'er in a row, kept sayin' + 'e 'd scored 'er off. Well, I scored 'im off. Tight as an owl 'e was! And + d' you think anything'll happen to him? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [As though speaking to herself.] Oh, Jem! it's the bread out + of our mouths! + </p> + <p> + JONES. Is it then? I'll make it hot for 'em yet. What about that purse? + What about young BARTHWICK? + </p> + <p> + [MRS. JONES comes forward to the table and tries to take the box; JONES + prevents her.] What do you want with that? You drop it, I say! + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. I 'll take it back and tell them all about it. [She attempts + to wrest the box from him.] + </p> + <p> + JONES. Ah, would yer? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He drops the box, and rushes on her with a snarl. She slips back past + the bed. He follows; a chair is overturned. The door is opened; Snow + comes in, a detective in plain clothes and bowler hat, with clipped + moustaches. JONES drops his arms, MRS. JONES stands by the window + gasping; SNOW, advancing swiftly to the table, puts his hand on the + silver box.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + SNOW. Doin' a bit o' skylarkin'? Fancy this is what I 'm after. J. B., the + very same. [He gets back to the door, scrutinising the crest and cypher on + the box. To MRS. JONES.] I'm a police officer. Are you Mrs. Jones? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. My instructions are to take you on a charge of stealing this box + from J. BARTHWICK, Esquire, M.P., of 6, Rockingham Gate. Anything you say + may be used against you. Well, Missis? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [In her quiet voice, still out of breath, her hand upon her + breast.] Of course I did not take it, sir. I never have taken anything + that did n't belong to me; and of course I know nothing about it. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. You were at the house this morning; you did the room in which the + box was left; you were alone in the room. I find the box 'ere. You say you + did n't take it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, of course I say I did not take it, because I did + not. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Then how does the box come to be here? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. I would rather not say anything about it. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Is this your husband? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, this is my husband, sir. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Do you wish to say anything before I take her? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JONES remains silent, with his head bend down.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Well then, Missis. I 'll just trouble you to come along with me quietly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Twisting her hands.] Of course I would n't say I had n't + taken it if I had—and I did n't take it, indeed I did n't. Of course + I know appearances are against me, and I can't tell you what really + happened: But my children are at school, and they'll be coming home—and + I don't know what they'll do without me. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Your 'usband'll see to them, don't you worry. [He takes the woman + gently by the arm.] + </p> + <p> + JONES. You drop it—she's all right! [Sullenly.] I took the thing + myself. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. [Eyeing him] There, there, it does you credit. Come along, Missis. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Passionately.] Drop it, I say, you blooming teck. She's my wife; + she 's a respectable woman. Take her if you dare! + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Now, now. What's the good of this? Keep a civil tongue, and it'll be + the better for all of us. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He puts his whistle in his mouth and draws the woman to the door.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. [With a rush.] Drop her, and put up your 'ands, or I 'll soon make + yer. You leave her alone, will yer! Don't I tell yer, I took the thing + myself. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. [Blowing his whistle.] Drop your hands, or I 'll take you too. Ah, + would you? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JONES, closing, deals him a blow. A Policeman in uniform appears; there + is a short struggle and JONES is overpowered. MRS. JONES raises her + hands avid drops her face on them.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain falls. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + SCENE II + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + The BARTHWICKS' dining-room the same evening. The BARTHWICKS are seated + at dessert. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. John! [A silence broken by the cracking of nuts.] John! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I wish you'd speak about the nuts they're uneatable. [He puts + one in his mouth.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. It's not the season for them. I called on the Holyroods. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK fills his glass with port.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. Crackers, please, Dad. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK passes the crackers. His demeanour is reflective.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Lady Holyrood has got very stout. I 've noticed it coming + for a long time. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Gloomily.] Stout? [He takes up the crackers—with + transparent airiness.] The Holyroods had some trouble with their servants, + had n't they? + </p> + <p> + JACK. Crackers, please, Dad. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Passing the crackers.] It got into the papers. The cook, was + n't it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. No, the lady's maid. I was talking it over with Lady + Holyrood. The girl used to have her young man to see her. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Uneasily.] I'm not sure they were wise—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. My dear John, what are you talking about? How could there + be any alternative? Think of the effect on the other servants! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Of course in principle—I wasn't thinking of that. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Maliciously.] Crackers, please, Dad. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK is compelled to pass the crackers.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Lady Holyrood told me: "I had her up," she said; "I said + to her, 'You'll leave my house at once; I think your conduct disgraceful. + I can't tell, I don't know, and I don't wish to know, what you were doing. + I send you away on principle; you need not come to me for a character.' + And the girl said: 'If you don't give me my notice, my lady, I want a + month's wages. I'm perfectly respectable. I've done nothing.'"'—Done + nothing! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. H'm! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Servants have too much license. They hang together so + terribly you never can tell what they're really thinking; it's as if they + were all in a conspiracy to keep you in the dark. Even with Marlow, you + feel that he never lets you know what's really in his mind. I hate that + secretiveness; it destroys all confidence. I feel sometimes I should like + to shake him. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Marlow's a most decent chap. It's simply beastly every one knowing + your affairs. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. The less you say about that the better! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. It goes all through the lower classes. You can not tell + when they are speaking the truth. To-day when I was shopping after leaving + the Holyroods, one of these unemployed came up and spoke to me. I suppose + I only had twenty yards or so to walk to the carnage, but he seemed to + spring up in the street. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Ah! You must be very careful whom you speak to in these days. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I did n't answer him, of course. But I could see at once + that he wasn't telling the truth. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Cracking a nut.] There's one very good rule—look at + their eyes. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Crackers, please, Dad. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Passing the crackers.] If their eyes are straight-forward I + sometimes give them sixpence. It 's against my principles, but it's most + difficult to refuse. If you see that they're desperate, and dull, and + shifty-looking, as so many of them are, it's certain to mean drink, or + crime, or something unsatisfactory. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. This man had dreadful eyes. He looked as if he could + commit a murder. "I 've 'ad nothing to eat to-day," he said. Just like + that. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What was William about? He ought to have been waiting. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Raising his wine-glass to his nose.] Is this the '63, Dad? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK, holding his wine-glass to his eye, lowers it and passes it + before his nose.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I hate people that can't speak the truth. [Father and son + exchange a look behind their port.] It 's just as easy to speak the truth + as not. I've always found it easy enough. It makes it impossible to tell + what is genuine; one feels as if one were continually being taken in. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Sententiously.] The lower classes are their own enemies. If + they would only trust us, they would get on so much better. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. But even then it's so often their own fault. Look at that + Mrs. Jones this morning. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I only want to do what's right in that matter. I had occasion + to see Roper this afternoon. I mentioned it to him. He's coming in this + evening. It all depends on what the detective says. I've had my doubts. + I've been thinking it over. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. The woman impressed me most unfavourably. She seemed to + have no shame. That affair she was talking about—she and the man + when they were young, so immoral! And before you and Jack! I could have + put her out of the room! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Oh! I don't want to excuse them, but in looking at these + matters one must consider—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Perhaps you'll say the man's employer was wrong in + dismissing him? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Of course not. It's not there that I feel doubt. What I ask + myself is—— + </p> + <p> + JACK. Port, please, Dad. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Circulating the decanter in religious imitation of the rising + and setting of the sun.] I ask myself whether we are sufficiently careful + in making inquiries about people before we engage them, especially as + regards moral conduct. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Pass the-port, please, Mother! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Passing it.] My dear boy, are n't you drinking too much? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JACK fills his glass.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MARLOW. [Entering.] Detective Snow to see you, Sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Uneasily.] Ah! say I'll be with him in a minute. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Without turning.] Let him come in here, Marlow. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [SNOW enters in an overcoat, his bowler hat in hand.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Half-rising.] Oh! Good evening! + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Good evening, sir; good evening, ma'am. I 've called round to report + what I 've done, rather late, I 'm afraid—another case took me away. + [He takes the silver box out o f his pocket, causing a sensation in the + BARTHWICK family.] This is the identical article, I believe. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Certainly, certainly. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Havin' your crest and cypher, as you described to me, sir, I 'd no + hesitation in the matter. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Excellent. Will you have a glass of [he glances at the waning + port]—er—sherry-[pours out sherry]. Jack, just give Mr. Snow + this. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JACK rises and gives the glass to SNOW; then, lolling in his chair, + regards him indolently.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + SNOW. [Drinking off wine and putting down the glass.] After seeing you I + went round to this woman's lodgings, sir. It's a low neighborhood, and I + thought it as well to place a constable below —and not without 'e + was wanted, as things turned out. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Indeed! + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Yes, Sir, I 'ad some trouble. I asked her to account for the + presence of the article. She could give me no answer, except to deny the + theft; so I took her into custody; then her husband came for me, so I was + obliged to take him, too, for assault. He was very violent on the way to + the station—very violent—threatened you and your son, and + altogether he was a handful, I can till you. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. What a ruffian he must be! + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Yes, ma'am, a rough customer. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Sipping his mine, bemused.] Punch the beggar's head. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Given to drink, as I understand, sir. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. It's to be hoped he will get a severe punishment. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. The odd thing is, sir, that he persists in sayin' he took the box + himself. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Took the box himself! [He smiles.] What does he think to gain + by that? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. He says the young gentleman was intoxicated last night + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JACK stops the cracking of a nut, and looks at SNOW.] [BARTHWICK, + losing his smile, has put his wine-glass down; there is a silence—SNOW, + looking from face to face, remarks] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + —took him into the house and gave him whisky; and under the + influence of an empty stomach the man says he took the box. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. The impudent wretch! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. D' you mean that he—er—intends to put this forward + to-morrow? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. That'll be his line, sir; but whether he's endeavouring to shield + his wife, or whether [he looks at JACK] there's something in it, will be + for the magistrate to say. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Haughtily.] Something in what? I don't understand you. As + if my son would bring a man like that into the house! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [From the fireplace, with an effort to be calm.] My son can + speak for himself, no doubt. Well, Jack, what do you say? + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] What does he say? Why, of course, he says the + whole story's stuff! + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Embarrassed.] Well, of course, I—of course, I don't know + anything about it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I should think not, indeed! [To Snow.] The man is an + audacious ruffian! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Suppressing jumps.] But in view of my son's saying there's + nothing in this—this fable—will it be necessary to proceed + against the man under the circumstances? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. We shall have to charge him with the assault, sir. It would be as + well for your son to come down to the Court. There'll be a remand, no + doubt. The queer thing is there was quite a sum of money found on him, and + a crimson silk purse. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK starts; JACK rises and sits dozen again.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I suppose the lady has n't missed her purse? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Hastily.] Oh, no! Oh! No! + </p> + <p> + JACK. No! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Dreamily.] No! [To SNOW.] I 've been inquiring of the + servants. This man does hang about the house. I shall feel much safer if + he gets a good long sentence; I do think we ought to be protected against + such ruffians. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Yes, yes, of course, on principle but in this case we have a + number of things to think of. [To SNOW.] I suppose, as you say, the man + must be charged, eh? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. No question about that, sir. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Staring gloomily at JACK.] This prosecution goes very much + against the grain with me. I have great sympathy with the poor. In my + position I 'm bound to recognise the distress there is amongst them. The + condition of the people leaves much to be desired. D' you follow me? I + wish I could see my way to drop it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] John! it's simply not fair to other people. + It's putting property at the mercy of any one who likes to take it. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Trying to make signs to her aside.] I 'm not defending him, + not at all. I'm trying to look at the matter broadly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Nonsense, John, there's a time for everything. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. [Rather sardonically.] I might point out, sir, that to withdraw the + charge of stealing would not make much difference, because the facts must + come out [he looks significantly at JACK] in reference to the assault; and + as I said that charge will have to go forward. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Hastily.] Yes, oh! exactly! It's entirely on the woman's + account—entirely a matter of my own private feelings. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. If I were you, sir, I should let things take their course. It's not + likely there'll be much difficulty. These things are very quick settled. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Doubtfully.] You think so—you think so? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Rousing himself.] I say, what shall I have to swear to? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. That's best known to yourself, sir. [Retreating to the door.] Better + employ a solicitor, sir, in case anything should arise. We shall have the + butler to prove the loss of the article. You'll excuse me going, I 'm + rather pressed to-night. The case may come on any time after eleven. Good + evening, sir; good evening, ma'am. I shall have to produce the box in + court to-morrow, so if you'll excuse me, sir, I may as well take it with + me. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He takes the silver box and leaves them with a little bow.] [BARTHWICK + makes a move to follow him, then dashing his hands beneath his coat + tails, speaks with desperation.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I do wish you'd leave me to manage things myself. You will put + your nose into matters you know nothing of. A pretty mess you've made of + this! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Coldly.] I don't in the least know what you're talking + about. If you can't stand up for your rights, I can. I 've no patience + with your principles, it's such nonsense. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Principles! Good Heavens! What have principles to do with it + for goodness sake? Don't you know that Jack was drunk last night! + </p> + <p> + JACK. Dad! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [In horror rising.] Jack! + </p> + <p> + JACK. Look here, Mother—I had supper. Everybody does. I mean to say—you + know what I mean—it's absurd to call it being drunk. At Oxford + everybody gets a bit "on" sometimes—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Well, I think it's most dreadful! If that is really what + you do at Oxford? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Angrily.] Well, why did you send me there? One must do as other + fellows do. It's such nonsense, I mean, to call it being drunk. Of course + I 'm awfully sorry. I 've had such a beastly headache all day. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Tcha! If you'd only had the common decency to remember what + happened when you came in. Then we should know what truth there was in + what this fellow says—as it is, it's all the most confounded + darkness. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Staring as though at half-formed visions.] I just get a— and + then—it 's gone—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Oh, Jack! do you mean to say you were so tipsy you can't + even remember—— + </p> + <p> + JACK. Look here, Mother! Of course I remember I came—I must have + come—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Unguardedly, and walking up and down.] Tcha!—and that + infernal purse! Good Heavens! It'll get into the papers. Who on earth + could have foreseen a thing like this? Better to have lost a dozen + cigarette-boxes, and said nothing about it. [To his wife.] It's all your + doing. I told you so from the first. I wish to goodness Roper would come! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] I don't know what you're talking about, John. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Turning on her.] No, you—you—you don't know + anything! [Sharply.] Where the devil is Roper? If he can see a way out of + this he's a better man than I take him for. I defy any one to see a way + out of it. I can't. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Look here, don't excite Dad—I can simply say I was too beastly + tired, and don't remember anything except that I came in and [in a dying + voice] went to bed the same as usual. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Went to bed? Who knows where you went—I 've lost all + confidence. For all I know you slept on the floor. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Indignantly.] I did n't, I slept on the—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Sitting on the sofa.] Who cares where you slept; what does it + matter if he mentions the—the—a perfect disgrace? + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. What? [A silence.] I insist on knowing. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Oh! nothing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Nothing? What do you mean by nothing, Jack? There's your + father in such a state about it! + </p> + <p> + JACK. It's only my purse. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Your purse! You know perfectly well you have n't got one. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Well, it was somebody else's—it was all a joke—I did n't + want the beastly thing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Do you mean that you had another person's purse, and that + this man took it too? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Tcha! Of course he took it too! A man like that Jones will make + the most of it. It'll get into the papers. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I don't understand. What on earth is all the fuss about? + [Bending over JACK, and softly.] Jack now, tell me dear! Don't be afraid. + What is it? Come! + </p> + <p> + JACK. Oh, don't Mother! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. But don't what, dear? + </p> + <p> + JACK. It was pure sport. I don't know how I got the thing. Of course I 'd + had a bit of a row—I did n't know what I was doing—I was—I + Was—well, you know—I suppose I must have pulled the bag out of + her hand. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Out of her hand? Whose hand? What bag—whose bag? + </p> + <p> + JACK. Oh! I don't know—her bag—it belonged to—[in a + desperate and rising voice] a woman. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. A woman? Oh! Jack! No! + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Jumping up.] You would have it. I did n't want to tell you. It's + not my fault. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The door opens and MARLOW ushers in a man of middle age, inclined to + corpulence, in evening dress. He has a ruddy, thin moustache, and dark, + quick-moving little eyes. His eyebrows aye Chinese.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MARLOW. Mr. Roper, Sir. [He leaves the room.] + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [With a quick look round.] How do you do? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [But neither JACK nor MRS. BARTHWICK make a sign.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Hurrying.] Thank goodness you've come, Roper. You remember + what I told you this afternoon; we've just had the detective here. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Got the box? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Yes, yes, but look here—it was n't the charwoman at all; + her drunken loafer of a husband took the things—he says that fellow + there [he waves his hand at JACK, who with his shoulder raised, seems + trying to ward off a blow] let him into the house last night. Can you + imagine such a thing. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Roper laughs. ] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [With excited emphasis.]. It's no laughing matter, Roper. I + told you about that business of Jack's too—don't you see the brute + took both the things—took that infernal purse. It'll get into the + papers. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [Raising his eyebrows.] H'm! The purse! Depravity in high life! + What does your son say? + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. He remembers nothing. D—n! Did you ever see such a mess? + It 'll get into the papers. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [With her hand across hey eyes.] Oh! it's not that—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK and ROPER turn and look at her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. It's the idea of that woman—she's just heard—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROPER nods. And MRS. BARTHWICK, setting her lips, gives a slow look at + JACK, and sits down at the table.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + What on earth's to be done, Roper? A ruffian like this Jones will make all + the capital he can out of that purse. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I don't believe that Jack took that purse. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What—when the woman came here for it this morning? + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Here? She had the impudence? Why was n't I told? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She looks round from face to face—no one answers hey, there is a + pause.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Suddenly.] What's to be done, Roper? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [Quietly to JACK.] I suppose you did n't leave your latch-key in + the door? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Sullenly.] Yes, I did. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Good heavens! What next? + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. I 'm certain you never let that man into the house, Jack, + it's a wild invention. I'm sure there's not a word of truth in it, Mr. + Roper. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [Very suddenly.] Where did you sleep last night? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Promptly.] On the sofa, there—[hesitating]—that is—I—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. On the sofa? D' you mean to say you did n't go to bed? + </p> + <p> + JACK.[Sullenly.] No. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. If you don't remember anything, how can you remember that? + </p> + <p> + JACK. Because I woke up there in the morning. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Oh, Jack! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Good Gracious! + </p> + <p> + JACK. And Mrs. Jones saw me. I wish you would n't bait me so. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Do you remember giving any one a drink? + </p> + <p> + JACK. By Jove, I do seem to remember a fellow with—a fellow with [He + looks at Roper.] I say, d' you want me——? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [Quick as lightning.] With a dirty face? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [With illumination.] I do—I distinctly remember his—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK moves abruptly; MRS. BARTHWICK looks at ROPER angrily, and + touches her son's arm.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. You don't remember, it's ridiculous! I don't believe the + man was ever here at all. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. You must speak the truth, if it is the truth. But if you do + remember such a dirty business, I shall wash my hands of you altogether. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Glaring at them.] Well, what the devil—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Jack! + </p> + <p> + JACK. Well, Mother, I—I don't know what you do want. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. We want you to speak the truth and say you never let this + low man into the house. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Of course if you think that you really gave this man whisky in + that disgraceful way, and let him see what you'd been doing, and were in + such a disgusting condition that you don't remember a word of it—— + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [Quick.] I've no memory myself—never had. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Desperately.] I don't know what you're to say. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [To JACK.] Say nothing at all! Don't put yourself in a false + position. The man stole the things or the woman stole the things, you had + nothing to do with it. You were asleep on the sofa. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Your leaving the latch-key in the door was quite bad + enough, there's no need to mention anything else. [Touching his forehead + softly.] My dear, how hot your head is! + </p> + <p> + JACK. But I want to know what I 'm to do. [Passionately.] I won't be + badgered like this. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. BARTHWICK recoils from him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROPER. [Very quickly.] You forget all about it. You were asleep. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Must I go down to the Court to-morrow? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [Shaking his head.] No. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [In a relieved voice.] Is that so? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Yes. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. But you'll go, Roper. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Yes. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [With wan cheerfulness.] Thanks, awfully! So long as I don't have to + go. [Putting his hand up to his head.] I think if you'll excuse me—I've + had a most beastly day. [He looks from his father to his mother.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Turning quickly.] Goodnight, my boy. + </p> + <p> + JACK. Good-night, Mother. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He goes out. MRS. BARTHWICK heaves a sigh. There is a silence.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. He gets off too easily. But for my money that woman would have + prosecuted him. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. You find money useful. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I've my doubts whether we ought to hide the truth—— + </p> + <p> + ROPER. There'll be a remand. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. What! D' you mean he'll have to appear on the remand. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Yes. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. H'm, I thought you'd be able to——Look here, Roper, + you must keep that purse out of the papers. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROPER fixes his little eyes on him and nods.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Mr. Roper, don't you think the magistrate ought to be told + what sort of people these Jones's are; I mean about their immorality + before they were married. I don't know if John told you. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Afraid it's not material. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Not material? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Purely private life! May have happened to the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [With a movement as if to shift a burden.] Then you'll take the + thing into your hands? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. If the gods are kind. [He holds his hand out.] + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Shaking it dubiously.] Kind eh? What? You going? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Yes. I've another case, something like yours—most unexpected. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He bows to MRS. BARTHWICK, and goes out, followed by BARTHWICK, talking + to the last. MRS. BARTHWICK at the table bursts into smothered sobs. + BARTHWICK returns.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [To himself.] There'll be a scandal! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Disguising her grief at once.] I simply can't imagine + what Roper means by making a joke of a thing like that! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Staring strangely.] You! You can't imagine anything! You've no + more imagination than a fly! + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Angrily.] You dare to tell me that I have no imagination. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Flustered.] I—I 'm upset. From beginning to end, the + whole thing has been utterly against my principles. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. Rubbish! You have n't any! Your principles are nothing in + the world but sheer fright! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Walking to the window.] I've never been frightened in my life. + You heard what Roper said. It's enough to upset one when a thing like this + happens. Everything one says and does seems to turn in one's mouth—it's—it's + uncanny. It's not the sort of thing I've been accustomed to. [As though + stifling, he throws the window open. The faint sobbing of a child comes + in.] What's that? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [They listen.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] I can't stand that crying. I must send Marlow + to stop it. My nerves are all on edge. [She rings the bell.] + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. I'll shut the window; you'll hear nothing. [He shuts the + window. There is silence.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] That's no good! It's on my nerves. Nothing + upsets me like a child's crying. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MARLOW comes in.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + What's that noise of crying, Marlow? It sounds like a child. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. It is a child. I can see it against the railings. + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. [Opening the window, and looking out quietly.] It's Mrs. Jones's + little boy, ma'am; he came here after his mother. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BARTHWICK. [Moving quickly to the window.] Poor little chap! John, we + ought n't to go on with this! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Sitting heavily in a chair.] Ah! but it's out of our hands! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. BARTHWICK turns her back to the window. There is an expression of + distress on hey face. She stands motionless, compressing her lips. The + crying begins again. BARTHWICK coveys his ears with his hands, and + MARLOW shuts the window. The crying ceases.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain falls. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + ACT III + </h1> + <blockquote> + <p> + Eight days have passed, and the scene is a London Police Court at one + o'clock. A canopied seat of Justice is surmounted by the lion and + unicorn. Before the fire a worn-looking MAGISTRATE is warming his + coat-tails, and staring at two little girls in faded blue and orange + rags, who are placed before the dock. Close to the witness-box is a + RELIEVING OFFICER in an overcoat, and a short brown beard. Beside the + little girls stands a bald POLICE CONSTABLE. On the front bench are + sitting BARTHWICK and ROPER, and behind them JACK. In the railed + enclosure are seedy-looking men and women. Some prosperous constables + sit or stand about. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [In his paternal and ferocious voice, hissing his s's.] Now + let us dispose of these young ladies. + </p> + <p> + USHER. Theresa Livens, Maud Livens. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The bald CONSTABLE indicates the little girls, who remain silent, + disillusioned, inattentive.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Relieving Officer! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The RELIEVING OFFICER Steps into the witness-box.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + USHER. The evidence you give to the Court shall be the truth, the whole + truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God! Kiss the book! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The book is kissed.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + RELIEVING OFFICER. [In a monotone, pausing slightly at each sentence end, + that his evidence may be inscribed.] About ten o'clock this morning, your + Worship, I found these two little girls in Blue Street, Fulham, crying + outside a public-house. Asked where their home was, they said they had no + home. Mother had gone away. Asked about their father. Their father had no + work. Asked where they slept last night. At their aunt's. I 've made + inquiries, your Worship. The wife has broken up the home and gone on the + streets. The husband is out of work and living in common lodging-houses. + The husband's sister has eight children of her own, and says she can't + afford to keep these little girls any longer. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Returning to his seat beneath the canopy of justice.] Now, + let me see. You say the mother is on the streets; what evidence have you + of that? + </p> + <p> + RELIEVING OFFICER. I have the husband here, your Worship. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Very well; then let us see him. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There are cries of "LIVENS." The MAGISTRATE leans forward, and stares + with hard compassion at the little girls. LIVENS comes in. He is quiet, + with grizzled hair, and a muffler for a collar. He stands beside the + witness-box.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + And you, are their father? Now, why don't you keep your little girls at + home. How is it you leave them to wander about the streets like this? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. I've got no home, your Worship. I'm living from 'and to mouth. I + 've got no work; and nothin' to keep them on. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. How is that? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. [Ashamedly.] My wife, she broke my 'ome up, and pawned the things. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. But what made you let her? + </p> + <p> + LEVINS. Your Worship, I'd no chance to stop 'er, she did it when I was out + lookin' for work. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Did you ill-treat her? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. [Emphatically.] I never raised my 'and to her in my life, your + Worship. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Then what was it—did she drink? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. Yes, your Worship. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Was she loose in her behaviour? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. [In a low voice.] Yes, your Worship. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. And where is she now? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. I don't know your Worship. She went off with a man, and after that + I—— + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes. Who knows anything of her? [To the bald CONSTABLE.] + Is she known here? + </p> + <p> + RELIEVING OFFICER. Not in this district, your Worship; but I have + ascertained that she is well known—— + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes—yes; we'll stop at that. Now [To the Father] you say + that she has broken up your home, and left these little girls. What + provision can you make for them? You look a strong man. + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. So I am, your Worship. I'm willin' enough to work, but for the + life of me I can't get anything to do. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. But have you tried? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. I've tried everything, your Worship—I 've tried my 'ardest. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Well, well—— [There is a silence.] + </p> + <p> + RELIEVING OFFICER. If your Worship thinks it's a case, my people are + willing to take them. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, I know; but I've no evidence that this man is not + the proper guardian for his children. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He rises oval goes back to the fire.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + RELIEVING OFFICER. The mother, your Worship, is able to get access to + them. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes; the mother, of course, is an improper person to have + anything to do with them. [To the Father.] Well, now what do you say? + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. Your Worship, I can only say that if I could get work I should be + only too willing to provide for them. But what can I do, your Worship? + Here I am obliged to live from 'and to mouth in these 'ere common + lodging-houses. I 'm a strong man—I'm willing to work —I'm + half as alive again as some of 'em—but you see, your Worship, my + 'airs' turned a bit, owing to the fever—[Touches his hair]—and + that's against me; and I don't seem to get a chance anyhow. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes-yes. [Slowly.] Well, I think it 's a case. [Staring his + hardest at the little girls.] Now, are you willing that these little girls + should be sent to a home. + </p> + <p> + LIVENS. Yes, your Worship, I should be very willing. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Well, I'll remand them for a week. Bring them again to-day + week; if I see no reason against it then, I 'll make an order. + </p> + <p> + RELIEVING OFFICER. To-day week, your Worship. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The bald CONSTABLE takes the little girls out by the shoulders. The + father follows them. The MAGISTRATE, returning to his seat, bends over + and talks to his CLERK inaudibly.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [Speaking behind his hand.] A painful case, Roper; very + distressing state of things. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Hundreds like this in the Police Courts. + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Most distressing! The more I see of it, the more important this + question of the condition of the people seems to become. I shall certainly + make a point of taking up the cudgels in the House. I shall move—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The MAGISTRATE ceases talking to his CLERK.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + CLERK. Remands! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK stops abruptly. There is a stir and MRS. JONES comes in by + the public door; JONES, ushered by policemen, comes from the prisoner's + door. They file into the dock.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + CLERK. James Jones, Jane Jones. + </p> + <p> + USHER. Jane Jones! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. [In a whisper.] The purse—the purse must be kept out of + it, Roper. Whatever happens you must keep that out of the papers. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROPER nods.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BALD CONSTABLE. Hush! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. JONES, dressed in hey thin, black, wispy dress, and black straw + hat, stands motionless with hands crossed on the front rail of the dock. + JONES leans against the back rail of the dock, and keeps half turning, + glancing defiantly about him. He is haggard and unshaven.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + CLERK. [Consulting with his papers.] This is the case remanded from last + Wednesday, Sir. Theft of a silver cigarette-box and assault on the police; + the two charges were taken together. Jane Jones! James Jones! + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Staring.] Yes, yes; I remember. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Jane Jones. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Do you admit stealing a silver cigarette-box valued at five pounds, + ten shillings, from the house of John BARTHWICK, M.P., between the hours + of 11 p.m. on Easter Monday and 8.45 a.m. on Easter Tuesday last? Yes, or + no? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [In a logy voice.] No, Sir, I do not, sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. James Jones? Do you admit stealing a silver cigarette-box valued at + five pounds, ten shillings, from the house of John BARTHWICK, M.P., + between the hours of 11 p.m. on Easter Monday and 8.45 A.M. on Easter + Tuesday last. And further making an assault on the police when in the + execution of their duty at 3 p.m. on Easter Tuesday? Yes or no? + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Sullenly.] Yes, but I've got a lot to say about it. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [To the CLERK.] Yes—yes. But how comes it that these two + people are charged with the same offence? Are they husband and wife? + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Yes, Sir. You remember you ordered a remand for further evidence as + to the story of the male prisoner. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Have they been in custody since? + </p> + <p> + CLERK. You released the woman on her own recognisances, sir. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, this is the case of the silver box; I remember now. + Well? + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Thomas Marlow. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The cry of "THOMAS MARLOW" is repeated MARLOW comes in, and steps into + the witness-box.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + USHER. The evidence you give to the court shall be the truth, the whole + truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God. Kiss the book. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The book is kissed. The silver box is handed up, and placed on the + rail.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + CLERK. [Reading from his papers.] Your name is Thomas Marlow? Are you, + butler to John BARTHWICK, M.P., of 6, Rockingham Gate? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Is that the box? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. And did you miss the same at 8.45 on the following morning, on + going to remove the tray? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Is the female prisoner known to you? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MARLOW nods.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Is she the charwoman employed at 6, Rockingham Gate? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Again MARLOW nods.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Did you at the time of your missing the box find her in the room alone? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Did you afterwards communicate the loss to your employer, and did + he send you to the police station? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. [To MRS. JONES.] Have you anything to ask him? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, sir, nothing, thank you, sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. [To JONES.] James Jones, have you anything to ask this witness? + </p> + <p> + JONES. I don't know 'im. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Are you sure you put the box in the place you say at the time + you say? + </p> + <p> + MARLOW. Yes, your Worship. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Very well; then now let us have the officer. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MARLOW leaves the box, and Snow goes into it.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + USHER. The evidence you give to the court shall be the truth, the whole + truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God. [The book is kissed.] + </p> + <p> + CLERK. [Reading from his papers.] Your name is Robert Allow? You are a + detective in the X. B. division of the Metropolitan police force? + According to instructions received did you on Easter Tuesday last proceed + to the prisoner's lodgings at 34, Merthyr Street, St. Soames's? And did + you on entering see the box produced, lying on the table? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Is that the box? + </p> + <p> + Snow. [Fingering the box.] Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. And did you thereupon take possession of it, and charge the female + prisoner with theft of the box from 6, Rockingham Gate? And did she deny + the same? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Did you take her into custody? + </p> + <p> + Snow. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. What was her behaviour? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Perfectly quiet, your Worship. She persisted in the denial. That's + all. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. DO you know her? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. No, your Worship. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Is she known here? + </p> + <p> + BALD CONSTABLE. No, your Worship, they're neither of them known, we 've + nothing against them at all. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. [To MRS. JONES.] Have you anything to ask the officer? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, sir, thank you, I 've nothing to ask him. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Very well then—go on. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. [Reading from his papers.] And while you were taking the female + prisoner did the male prisoner interpose, and endeavour to hinder you in + the execution of your duty, and did he strike you a blow? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Yes, Sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. And did he say, "You, let her go, I took the box myself"? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. He did. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. And did you blow your whistle and obtain the assistance of another + constable, and take him into custody? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. I did. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. Was he violent on the way to the station, and did he use bad + language, and did he several times repeat that he had taken the box + himself? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Snow nods.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Did you thereupon ask him in what manner he had stolen the box? And did + you understand him to say he had entered the house at the invitation of + young Mr. BARTHWICK + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK, turning in his seat, frowns at ROPER.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + after midnight on Easter Monday, and partaken of whisky, and that under + the influence of the whisky he had taken the box? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. I did, sir. + </p> + <p> + CLERK. And was his demeanour throughout very violent? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. It was very violent. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Breaking in.] Violent—-of course it was! You put your 'ands + on my wife when I kept tellin' you I took the thing myself. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Hissing, with protruded neck.] Now—you will have your + chance of saying what you want to say presently. Have you anything to ask + the officer? + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Sullenly.] No. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Very well then. Now let us hear what the female prisoner has + to say first. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Well, your Worship, of course I can only say what I 've said + all along, that I did n't take the box. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, but did you know that it was taken? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, your Worship. And, of course, to what my husband says, + your Worship, I can't speak of my own knowledge. Of course, I know that he + came home very late on the Monday night. It was past one o'clock when he + came in, and he was not himself at all. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Had he been drinking? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. And was he drunk? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship, he was almost quite drunk. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. And did he say anything to you? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. No, your Worship, only to call me names. And of course in the + morning when I got up and went to work he was asleep. And I don't know + anything more about it until I came home again. Except that Mr. BARTHWICK—that + 's my employer, your Worship—told me the box was missing. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. But of course when I was shaking out my husband's coat the + cigarette-box fell out and all the cigarettes were scattered on the bed. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. You say all the cigarettes were scattered on the bed? [To + SNOW.] Did you see the cigarettes scattered on the bed? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. No, your Worship, I did not. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. You see he says he did n't see them. + </p> + <p> + JONES. Well, they were there for all that. + </p> + <p> + SNOW. I can't say, your Worship, that I had the opportunity of going round + the room; I had all my work cut out with the male prisoner. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [To MRS. JONES.] Well, what more have you to say? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Of course when I saw the box, your Worship, I was dreadfully + upset, and I could n't think why he had done such a thing; when the + officer came we were having words about it, because it is ruin to me, your + Worship, in my profession, and I have three little children dependent on + me. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Protruding his neck]. Yes—yes—but what did he say + to you? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. I asked him whatever came over him to do such a thing —and + he said it was the drink. He said he had had too much to drink, and + something came over him. And of course, your Worship, he had had very + little to eat all day, and the drink does go to the head when you have not + had enough to eat. Your Worship may not know, but it is the truth. And I + would like to say that all through his married life, I have never known + him to do such a thing before, though we have passed through great + hardships and [speaking with soft emphasis] I am quite sure he would not + have done it if he had been himself at the time. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes. But don't you know that that is no excuse? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship. I know that it is no excuse. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The MAGISTRATE leans over and parleys with his CLERK.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JACK. [Leaning over from his seat behind.] I say, Dad—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. Tsst! [Sheltering his mouth he speaks to ROPER.] Roper, you had + better get up now and say that considering the circumstances and the + poverty of the prisoners, we have no wish to proceed any further, and if + the magistrate would deal with the case as one of disorder only on the + part of—— + </p> + <p> + BALD CONSTABLE. HSSShh! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROPER shakes his head.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Now, supposing what you say and what your husband says is + true, what I have to consider is—how did he obtain access to this + house, and were you in any way a party to his obtaining access? You are + the charwoman employed at the house? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship, and of course if I had let him into the + house it would have been very wrong of me; and I have never done such a + thing in any of the houses where I have been employed. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Well—so you say. Now let us hear what story the male + prisoner makes of it. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Who leans with his arms on the dock behind, speaks in a slow, + sullen voice.] Wot I say is wot my wife says. I 've never been 'ad up in a + police court before, an' I can prove I took it when in liquor. I told her, + and she can tell you the same, that I was goin' to throw the thing into + the water sooner then 'ave it on my mind. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. But how did you get into the HOUSE? + </p> + <p> + JONES. I was passin'. I was goin' 'ome from the "Goat and Bells." + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. The "Goat and Bells,"—what is that? A public-house? + </p> + <p> + JONES. Yes, at the corner. It was Bank 'oliday, an' I'd 'ad a drop to + drink. I see this young Mr. BARTHWICK tryin' to find the keyhole on the + wrong side of the door. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Well? + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Slowly and with many pauses.] Well—-I 'elped 'im to find it—drunk + as a lord 'e was. He goes on, an' comes back again, and says, I 've got + nothin' for you, 'e says, but come in an' 'ave a drink. So I went in just + as you might 'ave done yourself. We 'ad a drink o' whisky just as you + might have 'ad, 'nd young Mr. BARTHWICK says to me, "Take a drink 'nd a + smoke. Take anything you like, 'e says." And then he went to sleep on the + sofa. I 'ad some more whisky—an' I 'ad a smoke—and I 'ad some + more whisky—an' I carn't tell yer what 'appened after that. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Do you mean to say that you were so drunk that you can + remember nothing? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Softly to his father.] I say, that's exactly what—— + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. TSSh! + </p> + <p> + JONES. That's what I do mean. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. And yet you say you stole the box? + </p> + <p> + JONES. I never stole the box. I took it. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Hissing with protruded neck.] You did not steal it— you + took it. Did it belong to you—what is that but stealing? + </p> + <p> + JONES. I took it. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. You took it—you took it away from their house and you + took it to your house—— + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Sullenly breaking in.] I ain't got a house. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Very well, let us hear what this young man Mr.—Mr. + BARTHWICK has to say to your story. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [SNOW leaves the witness-box. The BALD CONSTABLE beckons JACK, who, + clutching his hat, goes into the witness-box. ROPER moves to the table + set apart for his profession.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + SWEARING CLERK. The evidence you give to the court shall be the truth, the + whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God. Kiss the book. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The book is kissed.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROPER. [Examining.] What is your name? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [In a low voice.] John BARTHWICK, Junior. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The CLERK writes it down.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROPER. Where do you live? + </p> + <p> + JACK. At 6, Rockingham Gate. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [All his answers are recorded by the Clerk.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROPER. You are the son of the owner? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [In a very low voice.] Yes. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Speak up, please. Do you know the prisoners? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Looking at the JONESES, in a low voice.] I 've seen Mrs. Jones. I + [in a loud voice] don't know the man. + </p> + <p> + JONES. Well, I know you! + </p> + <p> + BALD CONSTABLE. HSSh! + </p> + <p> + ROPER. Now, did you come in late on the night of Easter Monday? + </p> + <p> + JACK. Yes. + </p> + <p> + ROPER. And did you by mistake leave your latch key in the door? + </p> + <p> + JACK. Yes. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Oh! You left your latch-key in the door? + </p> + <p> + ROPER. And is that all you can remember about your coming in? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [In a loud voice.] Yes, it is. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Now, you have heard the male prisoner's story, what do you say + to that? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Turning to the MAGISTRATE, speaks suddenly in a confident, + straight-forward voice.] The fact of the matter is, sir, that I 'd been + out to the theatre that night, and had supper afterwards, and I came in + late. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Do you remember this man being outside when you came in? + </p> + <p> + JACK. No, Sir. [He hesitates.] I don't think I do. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Somewhat puzzled.] Well, did he help you to open the door, as + he says? Did any one help you to open the door? + </p> + <p> + JACK. No, sir—I don't think so, sir—I don't know. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. You don't know? But you must know. It is n't a usual thing for + you to have the door opened for you, is it? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [With a shamefaced smile.] No. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Very well, then—— + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Desperately.] The fact of the matter is, sir, I'm afraid I'd had + too much champagne that night. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Smiling.] Oh! you'd had too much champagne? + </p> + <p> + JONES. May I ask the gentleman a question? + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes—yes—you may ask him what questions you like. + </p> + <p> + JONES. Don't you remember you said you was a Liberal, same as your father, + and you asked me wot I was? + </p> + <p> + JACK. [With his hand against his brow.] I seem to remember—— + </p> + <p> + JONES. And I said to you, "I'm a bloomin' Conservative," I said; an' you + said to me, "You look more like one of these 'ere Socialists. Take wotever + you like," you said. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [With sudden resolution.] No, I don't. I don't remember anything of + the sort. + </p> + <p> + JONES. Well, I do, an' my word's as good as yours. I 've never been had up + in a police court before. Look 'ere, don't you remember you had a sky-blue + bag in your 'and [BARTHWICK jumps.] + </p> + <p> + ROPER. I submit to your worship that these questions are hardly to the + point, the prisoner having admitted that he himself does not remember + anything. [There is a smile on the face of Justice.] It is a case of the + blind leading the blind. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Violently.] I've done no more than wot he 'as. I'm a poor man; + I've got no money an' no friends—he 's a toff—he can do wot I + can't. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE: Now, now? All this won't help you—you must be quiet. You + say you took this box? Now, what made you take it? Were you pressed for + money? + </p> + <p> + JONES. I'm always pressed for money. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Was that the reason you took it? + </p> + <p> + JONES. No. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [To SNOW.] Was anything found on him? + </p> + <p> + SNOW. Yes, your worship. There was six pounds twelve shillin's found on + him, and this purse. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The red silk purse is handed to the MAGISTRATE. BARTHWICK rises his + seat, but hastily sits down again.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Staring at the purse.] Yes, yes—let me see [There is a + silence.] No, no, I 've nothing before me as to the purse. How did you + come by all that money? + </p> + <p> + JONES. [After a long pause, suddenly.] I declines to say. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. But if you had all that money, what made you take this box? + </p> + <p> + JONES. I took it out of spite. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Hissing, with protruded neck.] You took it out of spite? Well + now, that's something! But do you imagine you can go about the town taking + things out of spite? + </p> + <p> + JONES. If you had my life, if you'd been out of work—— + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes; I know—because you're out of work you think + it's an excuse for everything. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Pointing at JACK.] You ask 'im wot made 'im take the—— + </p> + <p> + ROPER. [Quietly.] Does your Worship require this witness in the box any + longer? + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Ironically.] I think not; he is hardly profitable. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JACK leaves the witness-box, and hanging his head, resumes his seat.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. You ask 'im wot made 'im take the lady's—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [But the BALD CONSTABLE catches him by the sleeve.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + BALD CONSTABLE. SSSh! + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Emphatically.] Now listen to me. + </p> + <p> + I 've nothing to do with what he may or may not have taken. Why did you + resist the police in the execution of their duty? + </p> + <p> + JONES. It war n't their duty to take my wife, a respectable woman, that + 'ad n't done nothing. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. But I say it was. What made you strike the officer a blow? + </p> + <p> + JONES. Any man would a struck 'im a blow. I'd strike 'im again, I would. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. You are not making your case any better by violence. How do + you suppose we could get on if everybody behaved like you? + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Leaning forward, earnestly.] Well, wot, about 'er; who's to make + up to 'er for this? Who's to give 'er back 'er good name? + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. Your Worship, it's the children that's preying on his mind, + because of course I 've lost my work. And I've had to find another room + owing to the scandal. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, I know—but if he had n't acted like this + nobody would have suffered. + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Glaring round at JACK.] I 've done no worse than wot 'e 'as. Wot I + want to know is wot 's goin' to be done to 'im. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The BALD CONSTABLE again says "HSSh"] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROPER. Mr. BARTHWICK wishes it known, your Worship, that considering the + poverty of the prisoners, he does not press the charge as to the box. + Perhaps your Worship would deal with the case as one of disorder. + </p> + <p> + JONES. I don't want it smothered up, I want it all dealt with fair —I + want my rights—— + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. [Rapping his desk.] Now you have said all you have to say, and + you will be quiet. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There is a silence; the MAGISTRATE bends over and parleys with his + CLERK.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Yes, I think I may discharge the woman. [In a kindly voice he addresses + MRS. JONES, who stands unmoving with her hands crossed on the rail.] It is + very unfortunate for you that this man has behaved as he has. It is not + the consequences to him but the consequences to you. You have been brought + here twice, you have lost your work— [He glares at JONES]—and + this is what always happens. Now you may go away, and I am very sorry it + was necessary to bring you here at all. + </p> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Softly.] Thank you very much, your Worship. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She leaves the dock, and looking back at JONES, twists her fingers and + is still.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, but I can't pass it over. Go away, there's a good + woman. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. JONES stands back. The MAGISTRATE leans his head on his hand; then + raising it he speaks to JONES.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Now, listen to me. Do you wish the case to be settled here, or do you wish + it to go before a jury? + </p> + <p> + JONES. [Muttering.] I don't want no jury. + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Very well then, I will deal with it here. [After a pause.] You + have pleaded guilty to stealing this box—— + </p> + <p> + JONES. Not to stealin'—— + </p> + <p> + BALD CONSTABLE. HSSShh! + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. And to assaulting the police—— + </p> + <p> + JONES. Any man as was a man—— + </p> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. Your conduct here has been most improper. You give the excuse + that you were drunk when you stole the box. I tell you that is no excuse. + If you choose to get drunk and break the law afterwards you must take the + consequences. And let me tell you that men like you, who get drunk and + give way to your spite or whatever it is that's in you, are—are—a + nuisance to the community. + </p> + <p> + JACK. [Leaning from his seat.] Dad! that's what you said to me! + </p> + <p> + BARTHWICK. TSSt! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There is a silence, while the MAGISTRATE consults his CLERK; JONES + leans forward waiting.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. This is your first offence, and I am going to give you a light + sentence. [Speaking sharply, but without expression.] One month with hard + labour. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He bends, and parleys with his CLERK. The BALD CONSTABLE and another + help JONES from the dock.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JONES. [Stopping and twisting round.] Call this justice? What about 'im? + 'E got drunk! 'E took the purse—'e took the purse but [in a muffled + shout] it's 'is money got 'im off—JUSTICE! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The prisoner's door is shut on JONES, and from the seedy-looking men + and women comes a hoarse and whispering groan.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MAGISTRATE. We will now adjourn for lunch! [He rises from his seat.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The Court is in a stir. ROPER gets up and speaks to the reporter. JACK, + throwing up his head, walks with a swagger to the corridor; BARTHWICK + follows.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. JONES. [Turning to him zenith a humble gesture.] Oh! sir! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [BARTHWICK hesitates, then yielding to his nerves, he makes a + shame-faced gesture of refusal, and hurries out of court. MRS. JONES + stands looking after him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + The curtain falls. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <i>GALSWORTHY'S PLAYS</i> + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC_"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + <i>Links to All Volumes</i> + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tr> + <td> + THE FIRST SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2906/2906-h/2906-h.htm"><b>The + Silver Box</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2907/2907-h/2907-h.htm"><b>Joy</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2908/2908-h/2908-h.htm"><b>Strife</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE SECOND SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2909/2909-h/2909-h.htm"><b>The + Eldest Son</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2910/2910-h/2910-h.htm"><b>Little + Dream</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2911/2911-h/2911-h.htm"><b>Justice</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE THIRD SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2912/2912-h/2912-h.htm"><b>The + Fugitive</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2913/2913-h/2913-h.htm"><b>The + Pigeon</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2914/2914-h/2914-h.htm"><b>The + Mob</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE FOURTH SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2915/2915-h/2915-h.htm"><b>A + Bit O'Love</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2916/2916-h/2916-h.htm"><b>The + Foundations</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2917/2917-h/2917-h.htm"><b>The + Skin Game</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE FIFTH SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4764/4764-h/4764-h.htm"><b>A + Family Man</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4765/4765-h/4765-h.htm"><b>Loyalties</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4766/4766-h/4766-h.htm"><b>Windows</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + THE SIXTH SERIES: + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2918/2918-h/2918-h.htm"><b>The + First and Last</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2919/2919-h/2919-h.htm"><b>The + Little Man</b></a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2920/2920-h/2920-h.htm"><b>Four + Short Plays</b></a> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silver Box (First Series Plays) +by John Galsworthy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILVER BOX (FIRST SERIES *** + +***** This file should be named 2906-h.htm or 2906-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/0/2906/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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