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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: Joy (First Series Plays) + +Author: John Galsworthy + +Release Date: September 26, 2004 [EBook #2907] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOY (FIRST SERIES PLAYS) *** + + + + +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> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By John Galsworthy + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + JOY + </h1> + <h2> + A PLAY ON THE LETTER "I" + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + IN THREE ACTS + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <pre> + PERSONS OF THE PLAY + +COLONEL HOPE, R.A., retired + +MRS. HOPE, his wife + +MISS BEECH, their old governess + +LETTY, their daughter + +ERNEST BLUNT, her husband + +MRS. GWYN, their niece + +JOY, her daughter + +DICK MERTON, their young friend + +HON. MAURICE LEVER, their guest + +ROSE, their parlour-maid + </pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + TIME: The present. The action passes throughout midsummer day on the lawn + of Colonel Hope's house, near the Thames above Oxford. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>ACT I</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>ACT II</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>ACT III</b> </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT I + </h2> + <blockquote> + <p> + The time is morning, and the scene a level lawn, beyond which the river + is running amongst fields. A huge old beech tree overshadows everything, + in the darkness of whose hollow many things are hidden. A rustic seat + encircles it. A low wall clothed in creepers, with two openings, divides + this lawn from the flowery approaches to the house. Close to the wall + there is a swing. The sky is clear and sunny. COLONEL HOPE is seated in + a garden-chair, reading a newspaper through pince-nez. He is fifty-five + and bald, with drooping grey moustaches and a weather-darkened face. He + wears a flannel suit and a hat from Panama; a tennis racquet leans + against his chair. MRS. HOPE comes quickly through the opening of the + wall, with roses in her hands. She is going grey; she wears tan + gauntlets, and no hat. Her manner is decided, her voice emphatic, as + though aware that there is no nonsense in its owner's composition. + Screened from sight, MISS BEECH is seated behind the hollow tree; and + JOY is perched on a lower branch hidden by foliage. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. I told Molly in my letter that she'd have to walk up, Tom. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Walk up in this heat? My dear, why didn't you order Benson's fly? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Expense for nothing! Bob can bring up her things in the barrow. + I've told Joy I won't have her going down to meet the train. She's so + excited about her mother's coming there's no doing anything with her. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. No wonder, after two months. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, she's going home to-morrow; she must just keep herself + fresh for the dancing tonight. I'm not going to get people in to dance, + and have Joy worn out before they begin. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Dropping his paper.] I don't like Molly's walking up. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. A great strong woman like Molly Gwyn! It isn't half a mile. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. I don't like it, Nell; it's not hospitable. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Rubbish! If you want to throw away money, you must just find + some better investment than those wretched 3 per cents. of yours. The + greenflies are in my roses already! Did you ever see anything so + disgusting? [They bend over the roses they have grown, and lose all sense + of everything.] Where's the syringe? I saw you mooning about with it last + night, Tom. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Uneasily.] Mooning! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He retires behind his paper. MRS. HOPE enters the hollow of the tree.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + There's an account of that West Australian swindle. Set of ruffians! + Listen to this, Nell! "It is understood that amongst the share-holders are + large numbers of women, clergymen, and Army officers." How people can be + such fools! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Becoming aware that his absorption is unobserved, he drops his glasses, + and reverses his chair towards the tree.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Reappearing with a garden syringe.] I simply won't have Dick + keep his fishing things in the tree; there's a whole potful of disgusting + worms. I can't touch them. You must go and take 'em out, Tom. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [In his turn the COLONEL enters the hollow of the tree.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Personally.] What on earth's the pleasure of it? I can't see! + He never catches anything worth eating. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL reappears with a paint pot full of worms; he holds them out + abstractedly.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Jumping.] Don't put them near me! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [From behind the tree.] Don't hurt the poor creatures. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Turning.] Hallo, Peachey? What are you doing round there? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He puts the worms down on the seat.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Tom, take the worms off that seat at once! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Somewhat flurried.] Good gad! I don't know what to do with the + beastly worms! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. It's not my business to look after Dick's worms. Don't put them + on the ground. I won't have them anywhere where they can crawl about. [She + flicks some greenflies off her roses.] + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Looking into the pot as though the worms could tell him where to + put them.] Dash! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Give them to me. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Relieved.] Yes, give them to Peachey. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There comes from round the tree Miss BEECH, old-fashioned, + barrel-shaped, balloony in the skirts. She takes the paint pot, and sits + beside it on the rustic seat.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Poor creatures! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, it's beyond me how you can make pets of worms— + wriggling, crawling, horrible things! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROSE, who is young and comely, in a pale print frock, comes from the + house and places letters before her on a silver salver.] [Taking the + letters.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + What about Miss joy's frock, Rose? + </p> + <p> + ROSE. Please, 'm, I can't get on with the back without Miss Joy. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, then you must just find her. I don't know where she is. + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [In a slow, sidelong manner.] If you please, Mum, I think Miss Joy's + up in the—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She stops, seeing Miss BEECH signing to her with both hands.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Sharply.] What is it, Peachey? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Selecting a finger.] Pricked meself! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Let's look! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She bends to look, but Miss BEECH places the finger in her mouth.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROSE. [Glancing askance at the COLONEL.] If you please, Mum, it's below + the waist; I think I can manage with the dummy. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, you can try. [Opening her letter as ROSE retires.] Here's + Molly about her train. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Is there a letter for me? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. No, Peachey. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. There never is. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. What's that? You got four by the first post. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Exceptions! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Looking over his glasses.] Why! You know, you get 'em every day! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Molly says she'll be down by the eleven thirty. [In an injured + voice.] She'll be here in half an hour! [Reading with disapproval from the + letter.] "MAURICE LEVER is coming down by the same train to see Mr. Henty + about the Tocopala Gold Mine. Could you give him a bed for the night?" + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Silence, slight but ominous.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [Calling into his aid his sacred hospitality.] Of course we must + give him a bed! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Just like a man! What room I should like to know! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Pink. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. As if Molly wouldn't have the pink! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Ruefully.] I thought she'd have the blue! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. You know perfectly well it's full of earwigs, Tom. I killed ten + there yesterday morning. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Poor creatures! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. I don't know that I approve of this Mr. Lever's dancing + attendance. Molly's only thirty-six. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [In a high voice.] You can't refuse him a bed; I never heard of + such a thing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Reading from the letter.] "This gold mine seems to be a + splendid chance. [She glances at the COLONEL.] I've put all my spare cash + into it. They're issuing some Preference shares now; if Uncle Tom wants an + investment"—[She pauses, then in a changed, decided voice ]—Well, + I suppose I shall have to screw him in somehow. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. What's that about gold mines? Gambling nonsense! Molly ought to + know my views. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Folding the letter away out of her consciousness.] Oh! your + views! This may be a specially good chance. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Ahem! Special case! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Paying no attention.] I 'm sick of these 3 per cent. + dividends. When you've only got so little money, to put it all into that + India Stock, when it might be earning 6 per cent. at least, quite safely! + There are ever so many things I want. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. There you go! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. As to Molly, I think it's high time her husband came home to + look after her, instead of sticking out there in that hot place. In fact— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Miss BEECH looks up at the tree and exhibits cerebral excitement] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I don't know what Geoff's about; why doesn't he find something in England, + where they could live together. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Don't say anything against Molly, Nell! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, I don't believe in husband and wife being separated. + That's not my idea of married life. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL whistles quizzically.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Ah, yes, she's your niece, not mime! Molly's very—— + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Ouch! [She sucks her finger.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, if I couldn't sew at your age, Peachey, without pricking + my fingers! Tom, if I have Mr. Lever here, you'll just attend to what I + say and look into that mine! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Look into your grandmother! I have n't made a study of geology + for nothing. For every ounce you take out of a gold mine, you put an ounce + and a half in. Any fool knows that, eh, Peachey? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I hate your horrid mines, with all the poor creatures + underground. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Nonsense, Peachey! As if they'd go there if they did n't want + to! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Why don't you read your paper, then you'd see what a lot of + wild-cat things there are about. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Abstractedly.] I can't put Ernest and Letty in the blue room, + there's only the single bed. Suppose I put Mr. Lever there, and say + nothing about the earwigs. I daresay he'll never notice. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Treat a guest like that! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Then where am I to put him for goodness sake? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Put him in my dressing-room, I'll turn out. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Rubbish, Tom, I won't have you turned out, that's flat. He can + have Joy's room, and she can sleep with the earwigs. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [From her hiding-place upon a lower branch of the hollow tree.] I + won't. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. HOPE and the COLONEL jump.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. God bless my soul! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. You wretched girl! I told you never to climb that tree again. + Did you know, Peachey? [Miss BEECH smiles.] She's always up there, + spoiling all her frocks. Come down now, Joy; there's a good child! + </p> + <p> + JOY. I don't want to sleep with earwigs, Aunt Nell. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I'll sleep with the poor creatures. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE, [After a pause.] Well, it would be a mercy if you would for + once, Peachey. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Nonsense, I won't have Peachey—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, who is to sleep there then? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Coaxingly.] Let me sleep with Mother, Aunt Nell, do! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Litter her up with a great girl like you, as if we'd only one + spare room! Tom, see that she comes down—I can't stay here, I must + manage something. [She goes away towards the house.] + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Moving to the tree, and looking up.] You heard what your aunt + said? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Softly.] Oh, Uncle Tom! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. I shall have to come up after you. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh, do, and Peachey too! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Trying to restrain a smile.] Peachey, you talk to her. [Without + waiting for MISS BEECH, however, he proceeds.] What'll your aunt say to me + if I don't get you down? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Poor creature! + </p> + <p> + JOY. I don't want to be worried about my frock. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Scratching his bald head.] Well, I shall catch it. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh, Uncle Tom, your head is so beautiful from here! [Leaning over, + she fans it with a leafy twig.] + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Disrespectful little toad! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Quickly putting on his hat.] You'll fall out, and a pretty mess + that'll make on—[he looks uneasily at the ground]—my lawn! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [A voice is heard calling "Colonel! Colonel!]" + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. There's Dick calling you, Uncle Tom. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She disappears.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. [Appearing in the opening of the wall.] Ernie's waiting to play you + that single, Colonel! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He disappears.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. Quick, Uncle Tom! Oh! do go, before he finds I 'm up here. + </p> + <p> + MISS. BEECH. Secret little creature! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL picks up his racquet, shakes his fist, and goes away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [Calmly.] I'm coming down now, Peachey. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Climbing down.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Look out! I'm dropping on your head. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Unmoved.] Don't hurt yourself! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy drops on the rustic seat and rubs her shin. Told you so!] [She + hunts in a little bag for plaster.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Let's see! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Seeing the worms.] Ugh! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. What's the matter with the poor creatures? + </p> + <p> + JOY. They're so wriggly! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She backs away and sits down in the swing. She is just seventeen, light + and slim, brown-haired, fresh-coloured, and grey-eyed; her white frock + reaches to her ankles, she wears a sunbonnet.] Peachey, how long were + you Mother's governess. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Five years. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Was she as bad to teach as me? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Worse! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy claps her hands.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + She was the worst girl I ever taught. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Then you weren't fond of her? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! yes, I was. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Fonder than of me? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Don't you ask such a lot of questions. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Peachey, duckie, what was Mother's worst fault? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Doing what she knew she oughtn't. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Was she ever sorry? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Yes, but she always went on doin' it. + </p> + <p> + JOY. I think being sorry 's stupid! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh, do you? + </p> + <p> + JOY. It isn't any good. Was Mother revengeful, like me? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Ah! Wasn't she? + </p> + <p> + JOY. And jealous? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. The most jealous girl I ever saw. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Nodding.] I like to be like her. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Regarding her intently.] Yes! you've got all your troubles + before you. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Mother was married at eighteen, wasn't she, Peachey? Was she— + was she much in love with Father then? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [With a sniff.] About as much as usual. [She takes the paint + pot, and walking round begins to release the worms.] + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Indifferently.] They don't get on now, you know. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. What d'you mean by that, disrespectful little creature? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [In a hard voice.] They haven't ever since I've known them. MISS + BEECH. [Looks at her, and turns away again.] Don't talk about such things. + </p> + <p> + JOY. I suppose you don't know Mr. Lever? [Bitterly.] He's such a cool + beast. He never loses his temper. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Is that why you don't like him? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Frowning.] No—yes—I don't know. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! perhaps you do like him? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I don't; I hate him. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Standing still.] Fie! Naughty Temper! + </p> + <p> + JOY. Well, so would you! He takes up all Mother's time. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [In a peculiar voice.] Oh! does he? + </p> + <p> + JOY. When he comes I might just as well go to bed. [Passionately.] And now + he's chosen to-day to come down here, when I haven't seen her for two + months! Why couldn't he come when Mother and I'd gone home. It's simply + brutal! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. But your mother likes him? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Sullenly.] I don't want her to like him. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [With a long look at Joy.] I see! + </p> + <p> + JOY. What are you doing, Peachey? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Releasing a worm.] Letting the poor creatures go. + </p> + <p> + JOY. If I tell Dick he'll never forgive you. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sidling behind the swing and plucking off Joy's sunbonnet. + With devilry.] Ah-h-h! You've done your hair up; so that's why you + wouldn't come down! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Springing up, anal pouting.] I didn't want any one to see before + Mother. You are a pig, Peachey! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I thought there was something! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Twisting round.] How does it look? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I've seen better. + </p> + <p> + JOY. You tell any one before Mother comes, and see what I do! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Well, don't you tell about my worms, then! + </p> + <p> + JOY. Give me my hat! [Backing hastily towards the tree, and putting her + finger to her lips.] Look out! Dick! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! dear! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She sits down on the swing, concealing the paint pot with her feet and + skirts.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [On the rustic seat, and in a violent whisper.] I hope the worms will + crawl up your legs! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK, in flannels and a hard straw hat comes in. He is a quiet and + cheerful boy of twenty. His eyes are always fixed on joy.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. [Grimacing.] The Colonel's getting licked. Hallo! Peachey, in the + swing? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Chuckling.] Swing her, Dick! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Quivering with emotion.] Little creature! + </p> + <p> + JOY. Swing her! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK takes the ropes.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Quietly.] It makes me sick, young man. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Patting her gently on the back.] All right, Peachey. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Maliciously.] Could you get me my sewing from the seat? Just + behind Joy. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Leaning her head against the tree.] If you do, I won't dance with + you to-night. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK stands paralysed. Miss BEECH gets off the swing, picks up the + paint pot, and stands concealing it behind her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. Look what she's got behind her, sly old thing! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! dear! + </p> + <p> + JOY. Dance with her, Dick! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. If he dare! + </p> + <p> + JOY. Dance with her, or I won't dance with you to-night. [She whistles a + waltz.] + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Desperately.] Come on then, Peachey. We must. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Dance, dance! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK seizes Miss BEECH by the waist. She drops the paint pot. They + revolve.] [Convulsed.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Oh, Peachey, Oh! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Miss BEECH is dropped upon the rustic seat. DICK seizes joy's hands and + drags her up.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + No, no! I won't! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Panting.] Dance, dance with the poor young man! [She moves + her hands.] La la-la-la la-la la la! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK and JOY dance.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. By Jove, Joy! You've done your hair up. I say, how jolly! You do + look—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Throwing her hands up to her hair.] I did n't mean you to see! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [In a hurt voice.] Oh! didn't you? I'm awfully sorry! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Flashing round.] Oh, you old Peachey! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She looks at the ground, and then again at DICK.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sidling round the tree.] Oh! dear! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Whispering.] She's been letting out your worms. [Miss BEECH + disappears from view.] Look! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Quickly.] Hang the worms! Joy, promise me the second and fourth and + sixth and eighth and tenth and supper, to-night. Promise! Do! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy shakes her head.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + It's not much to ask. + </p> + <p> + JOY. I won't promise anything. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Why not? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Because Mother's coming. I won't make any arrangements. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Tragically.] It's our last night. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Scornfully.] You don't understand! [Dancing and clasping her hands.] + Mother's coming, Mother's coming! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Violently.] I wish——Promise, Joy! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Looking over her shoulder.] Sly old thing! If you'll pay Peachey + out, I'll promise you supper! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [From behind the tree.] I hear you. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Whispering.] Pay her out, pay her out! She's let out all your worms! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Looking moodily at the paint pot.] I say, is it true that Maurice + Lever's coming with your mother? I've met him playing cricket, he's rather + a good sort. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Flashing out.] I hate him. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Troubled.] Do you? Why? I thought—I didn't know—if I'd + known of course, I'd have—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He is going to say "hated him too!" But the voices of ERNEST BLUNT and + the COLONEL are heard approaching, in dispute.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. Oh! Dick, hide me, I don't want my hair seen till Mother comes. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She springs into the hollow tree. The COLONEL and ERNEST appear in the + opening of the wall.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ERNEST. The ball was out, Colonel. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Nothing of the sort. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. A good foot out. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. It was not, sir. I saw the chalk fly. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ERNEST is twenty-eight, with a little moustache, and the positive cool + voice of a young man who knows that he knows everything. He is perfectly + calm.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ERNEST. I was nearer to it than you. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [In a high, hot voice.] I don't care where you were, I hate a + fellow who can't keep cool. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [From behind the hollow tree.] Fie! Fie! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. We're two to one, Letty says the ball was out. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Letty's your wife, she'd say anything. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Well, look here, Colonel, I'll show you the very place it pitched. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Gammon! You've lost your temper, you don't know what you're + talking about. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [coolly.] I suppose you'll admit the rule that one umpires one's + own court. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Hotly.] Certainly not, in this case! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [From behind the hollow tree.] Special case! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Moving chin in collar—very coolly.] Well, of course if you + won't play the game! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [In a towering passion.] If you lose your temper like this, I 'll + never play with you again. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [To LETTY, a pretty soul in a linen suit, approaching through the wall.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Do you mean to say that ball was out, Letty? + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Of course it was, Father. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. You say that because he's your husband. [He sits on the rustic + seat.] If your mother'd been there she'd have backed me up! + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Mother wants Joy, Dick, about her frock. + </p> + <p> + DICK. I—I don't know where she is. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [From behind the hollow tree.] Ahem! + </p> + <p> + LETTY. What's the matter, Peachey? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Swallowed a fly. Poor creature! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Returning to his point.] Why I know the ball was out, Colonel, + was because it pitched in a line with that arbutus tree. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Rising.] Arbutus tree! [To his daughter.] Where's your mother? + </p> + <p> + LETTY. In the blue room, Father. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. The ball was a good foot out; at the height it was coming when it + passed me. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Staring at him.] You're a—you're aa theorist! From where + you were you could n't see the ball at all. [To LETTY.] Where's your + mother? + </p> + <p> + LETTY. [Emphatically.] In the blue room, Father! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL glares confusedly, and goes away towards the blue room.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ERNEST. [In the swing, and with a smile.] Your old Dad'll never be a + sportsman! + </p> + <p> + LETTY. [Indignantly.] I wish you wouldn't call Father old, Ernie! What + time's Molly coming, Peachey? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROSE has come from the house, and stands waiting for a chance to + speak.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ERNEST. [Breaking in.] Your old Dad's only got one fault: he can't take an + impersonal view of things. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Can you find me any one who can? + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [With a smile.] Well, Peachey! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Ironically.] Oh! of course, there's you! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. I don't know about that! But—— + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [To LETTY,] Please, Miss, the Missis says will you and Mr. Ernest + please to move your things into Miss Peachey's room. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Vexed.] Deuce of a nuisance havin' to turn out for this fellow + Lever. What did Molly want to bring him for? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Course you've no personal feeling in the matter! + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [Speaking to Miss BEECH.] The Missis says you're to please move your + things into the blue room, please Miss. + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Aha, Peachey! That settles you! Come on, Ernie! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She goes towards the house. ERNEST, rising from the swing, turns to + Miss BEECH, who follows.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ERNEST. [Smiling, faintly superior.] Personal, not a bit! I only think + while Molly 's out at grass, she oughtn't to—— + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sharply.] Oh! do you? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She hustles ERNEST out through the wall, but his voice is heard faintly + from the distance: "I think it's jolly thin."] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROSE. [To DICK.] The Missis says you're to take all your worms and things, + Sir, and put them where they won't be seen. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Shortly.] Have n't got any! + </p> + <p> + ROSE. The Missis says she'll be very angry if you don't put your worms + away; and would you come and help kill earwigs in the blue——? + </p> + <p> + DICK. Hang! [He goes, and ROSE is left alone.] + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [Looking straight before her.] Please, Miss Joy, the Missis says + will you go to her about your frock. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There is a little pause, then from the hollow tree joy's voice is + heard.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. No-o! + </p> + <p> + ROSE. If you did n't come, I was to tell you she was going to put you in + the blue. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy looks out of the tree.] [Immovable, but smiling.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Oh, Miss joy, you've done your hair up! [Joy retires into the tree.] + Please, Miss, what shall I tell the Missis? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Joy's voice is heard.] Anything you like. + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [Over her shoulder.] I shall be drove to tell her a story, Miss. + </p> + <p> + JOY. All right! Tell it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROSE goes away, and JOY comes out. She sits on the rustic seat and + waits. DICK, coming softly from the house, approaches her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. [Looking at her intently.] Joy! I wanted to say something + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy does not look at him, but twists her fingers.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I shan't see you again you know after to-morrow till I come up for the + 'Varsity match. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Smiling.] But that's next week. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Must you go home to-morrow? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy nods three times.] [Coming closer.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I shall miss you so awfully. You don't know how I—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy shakes her head.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Do look at me! [JOY steals a look.] Oh! Joy! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Again joy shakes her head.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [Suddenly.] Don't! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Seizing her hand.] Oh, Joy! Can't you—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Drawing the hand away.] Oh! don't. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Bending his head.] It's—it's—so—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Quietly.] Don't, Dick! + </p> + <p> + DICK. But I can't help it! It's too much for me, Joy, I must tell you—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN is seen approaching towards the house.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [Spinning round.] It's Mother—oh, Mother! [She rushes at her.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN is a handsome creature of thirty-six, dressed in a muslin + frock. She twists her daughter round, and kisses her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. How sweet you look with your hair up, Joy! Who 's this? + [Glancing with a smile at DICK.] + </p> + <p> + JOY. Dick Merton—in my letters you know. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She looks at DICK as though she wished him gone.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. How do you do? + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Shaking hands.] How d 'you do? I think if you'll excuse me —I'll + go in. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He goes uncertainly.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. What's the matter with him? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh, nothing! [Hugging her.] Mother! You do look such a duck. Why did + you come by the towing-path, was n't it cooking? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Avoiding her eyes.] Mr. Lever wanted to go into Mr. Henty's. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Her manner is rather artificially composed.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [Dully.] Oh! Is he-is he really coming here, Mother? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Whose voice has hardened just a little.] If Aunt Nell's got a + room for him—of course—why not? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Digging her chin into her mother's shoulder.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Why couldn't he choose some day when we'd gone? I wanted you all to + myself.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. You are a quaint child—when I was your age—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Suddenly looking up.] Oh! Mother, you must have been a chook! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Well, I was about twice as old as you, I know that. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Had you any—any other offers before you were married, Mother? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Smilingly.] Heaps! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Reflectively.] Oh! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Why? Have you been having any? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Glancing at MRS. GWYN, and then down.] N-o, of course not! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Where are they all? Where's Peachey? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Fussing about somewhere; don't let's hurry! Oh! you duckie— + duckie! Aren't there any letters from Dad? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [In a harder voice.] Yes, one or two. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Hesitating.] Can't I see? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I didn't bring them. [Changing the subject obviously.] Help me + to tidy—I'm so hot I don't know what to do. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She takes out a powder-puff bag, with a tiny looking-glass.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. How lovely it'll be to-morrow-going home! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With an uneasy look.] London's dreadfully stuffy, Joy. You 'll + only get knocked up again. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [With consternation.] Oh! but Mother, I must come. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. (Forcing a smile.) Oh, well, if you must, you must! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy makes a dash at her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Don't rumple me again. Here's Uncle Tom. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Quickly.] Mother, we're going to dance tonight; promise to dance + with me—there are three more girls than men, at least—and + don't dance too much with—with—you know—because I'm—[dropping + her voice and very still]—jealous. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Forcing a laugh.] You are funny! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Very quickly.] I haven't made any engagements because of you. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL approaches through the wall.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Well, Uncle Tom? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Genially.] Why, Molly! [He kisses her.] What made you come by + the towing-path? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Because it's so much cooler, of course. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Hallo! What's the matter with you? Phew! you've got your hair up! + Go and tell your aunt your mother's on the lawn. Cut along! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy goes, blowing a kiss.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Cracked about you, Molly! Simply cracked! We shall miss her when you take + her off to-morrow. [He places a chair for her.] Sit down, sit down, you + must be tired in this heat. I 've sent Bob for your things with the + wheelbarrow; what have you got?—only a bag, I suppose. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Sitting, with a smile.] That's all, Uncle Tom, except— + my trunk and hat-box. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Phew! And what's-his-name brought a bag, I suppose? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. They're all together. I hope it's not too much, Uncle Tom. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Dubiously.] Oh! Bob'll manage! I suppose you see a good deal of—of—Lever. + That's his brother in the Guards, isn't it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Yes. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Now what does this chap do? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. What should he do, Uncle Tom? He's a Director. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Guinea-pig! [Dubiously.] Your bringing him down was a good idea. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN, looking at him sidelong, bites her lips.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I should like to have a look at him. But, I say, you know, Molly— + mines, mines! There are a lot of these chaps about, whose business is to + cook their own dinners. Your aunt thinks—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Oh! Uncle Tom, don't tell me what Aunt Nell thinks! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Well-well! Look here, old girl! It's my experience never to—what + I mean is—never to trust too much to a man who has to do with + mining. I've always refused to have anything to do with mines. If your + husband were in England, of course, I'd say nothing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Very still.] We'd better keep him out of the question, had n't + we? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Of course, if you wish it, my dear. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Unfortunately, I do. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Nervously.] Ah! yes, I know; but look here, Molly, your aunt + thinks you're in a very delicate position-in fact, she thinks you see too + much of young Lever. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Stretching herself like an angry cat.] Does she? And what do + you think? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. I? I make a point of not thinking. I only know that here he is, + and I don't want you to go burning your fingers, eh? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN sits with a vindictive smile.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + A gold mine's a gold mine. I don't mean he deliberately—but they + take in women and parsons, and—and all sorts of fools. [Looking + down.] And then, you know, I can't tell your feelings, my dear, and I + don't want to; but a man about town 'll compromise a woman as soon as + he'll look at her, and [softly shaking his head] I don't like that, Molly! + It 's not the thing! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN sits unmoved, smiling the same smile, and the COLONEL gives + her a nervous look.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + If—if you were any other woman I should n't care—and if—if + you were a plain woman, damme, you might do what you liked! I know you and + Geoff don't get on; but here's this child of yours, devoted to you, and—and + don't you see, old girl? Eh? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a little hard laugh.] Thanks! Perfectly! I suppose as you + don't think, Uncle Tom, it never occurred to you that I have rather a + lonely time of it. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [With compunction.] Oh! my dear, yes, of course I know it must be + beastly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Stonily.] It is. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Yes, yes! [Speaking in a surprised voice.] I don't know what I 'm + talking like this for! It's your aunt! She goes on at me till she gets on + my nerves. What d' you think she wants me to do now? Put money into this + gold mine! Did you ever hear such folly? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Breaking into laughter.] Oh! Uncle Tom! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. All very well for you to laugh, Molly! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Calmly.] And how much are you going to put in? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Not a farthing! Why, I've got nothing but my pension and three + thousand India stock! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Only ninety pounds a year, besides your pension! D' you mean to + say that's all you've got, Uncle Tom? I never knew that before. What a + shame! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Feelingly.] It is a d—d shame! I don't suppose there's + another case in the army of a man being treated as I've been. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. But how on earth do you manage here on so little? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Brooding.] Your aunt's very funny. She's a born manager. She 'd + manage the hind leg off a donkey; but if I want five shillings for a + charity or what not, I have to whistle for it. And then all of a sudden, + Molly, she'll take it into her head to spend goodness knows what on some + trumpery or other and come to me for the money. If I have n't got it to + give her, out she flies about 3 per cent., and worries me to invest in + some wild-cat or other, like your friend's thing, the Jaco what is it? I + don't pay the slightest attention to her. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [From the direction of the house.] Tom! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Rising.] Yes, dear! [Then dropping his voice.] I say, Molly, + don't you mind what I said about young Lever. I don't want you to imagine + that I think harm of people—you know I don't—but so many women + come to grief, and—[hotly]—I can't stand men about town; not + that he of course—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE, [Peremptorily.] Tom! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [In hasty confidence.] I find it best to let your aunt run on. If + she says anything—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. To-om! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Yes, dear! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He goes hastily. MRS. GWYN sits drawing circles on the ground with her + charming parasol. Suddenly she springs to her feet, and stands waiting + like an animal at bay. The COLONEL and MRS. HOPE approach her talking.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, how was I to know? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Did n't Joy come and tell you? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. I don't know what's the matter with that child? Well, Molly, so + here you are. You're before your time—that train's always late. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With faint irony.] I'm sorry, Aunt Nell! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [They bob, seem to take fright, and kiss each other gingerly.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. What have you done with Mr. Lever? I shall have to put him in + Peachey's room. Tom's got no champagne. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. They've a very decent brand down at the George, Molly, I'll send + Bob over—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Rubbish, Tom! He'll just have to put up with what he can get! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Of course! He's not a snob! For goodness sake, Aunt Nell, don't + put yourself out! I'm sorry I suggested his coming. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. My dear, we ought to have champagne in the house—in case of + accident. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Shaking him gently by the coat.] No, please, Uncle Tom! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Suddenly.] Now, I've told your uncle, Molly, that he's not to + go in for this gold mine without making certain it's a good thing. Mind, I + think you've been very rash. I'm going to give you a good talking to; and + that's not all—you ought n't to go about like this with a young man; + he's not at all bad looking. I remember him perfectly well at the + Fleming's dance. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [On MRS. GWYN's lips there comes a little mocking smile.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [Pulling his wife's sleeve.] Nell! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. No, Tom, I'm going to talk to Molly; she's old enough to know + better. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Yes? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Yes, and you'll get yourself into a mess; I don't approve of + it, and when I see a thing I don't approve of—— + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Walking about, and pulling his moustache.] Nell, I won't have + it, I simply won't have it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. What rate of interest are these Preference shares to pay? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Still smiling.] Ten per cent. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. What did I tell you, Tom? And are they safe? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. You'd better ask Maurice. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. There, you see, you call him Maurice! Now supposing your uncle + went in for some of them—— + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Taking off his hat-in a high, hot voice] I'm not going in for + anything of the sort. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Don't swing your hat by the brim! Go and look if you can see + him coming! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL goes.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [In a lower voice.] Your uncle's getting very bald. I 've only shoulder of + lamb for lunch, and a salad. It's lucky it's too hot to eat. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH has appeared while she is speaking.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Here she is, Peachey! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I see her. [She kisses MRS. GWYN, and looks at her intently.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Shrugging her shoulders.] Well, Peachey! What d 'you make of + me? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Returning from his search.] There's a white hat crossing the + second stile. Is that your friend, Molly? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN nods.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Oh! before I forget, Peachey—Letty and Ernest can move + their things back again. I'm going to put Mr. Lever in your room. + [Catching sight o f the paint pot on the ground.] There's that disgusting + paint pot! Take it up at once, Tom, and put it in the tree. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL picks up the pot and bears it to the hollow tree followed + by MRS. HOPE; he enters.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Speaking into the tree.] Not there! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [From within.] Well, where then? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Why—up—oh! gracious! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN, standing alone, is smiling. LEVER approaches from the + towing-path. He is a man like a fencer's wrist, supple and steely. A man + whose age is difficult to tell, with a quick, good-looking face, and a + line between his brows; his darkish hair is flecked with grey. He gives + the feeling that he has always had to spurt to keep pace with his own + life.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Also entering the hollow tree.] No-oh! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [From the depths, in a high voice.] Well, dash it then! What do + you want? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Peachey, may I introduce Mr. Lever to you? Miss Beech, my old + governess. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [They shake each other by the hand.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. How do you do? [His voice is pleasant, his manner easy.] + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Pleased to meet you. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Her manner is that of one who is not pleased. She watches.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Pointing to the tree-maliciously.] This is my uncle and my + aunt. They're taking exercise, I think. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL and MRS. HOPE emerge convulsively. They are very hot. LEVER + and MRS. GWYN are very cool.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Shaking hands with him.] So you 've got here! Are n't you very + hot?—Tom! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Brought a splendid day with you! Splendid! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [As he speaks, Joy comes running with a bunch of roses; seeing LEVER, + she stops and stands quite rigid.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sitting in the swing.] Thunder! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Thunder? Nonsense, Peachey, you're always imagining something. + Look at the sky! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Thunder! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN's smile has faded. ] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Turning.] Joy, don't you see Mr. Lever? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy, turning to her mother, gives her the roses. With a forced smile, + LEVER advances, holding out his hand.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. How are you, Joy? Have n't seen you for an age! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Without expression.] I am very well, thank you. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She raises her hand, and just touches his. MRS. GWYN'S eyes are fixed + on her daughter. Miss BEECH is watching them intently. MRS. HOPE is + buttoning the COLONEL'S coat.] + </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> + <h2> + ACT II + </h2> + <blockquote> + <p> + It is afternoon, and at a garden-table placed beneath the hollow tree, + the COLONEL is poring over plans. Astride of a garden-chair, LEVER is + smoking cigarettes. DICK is hanging Chinese lanterns to the hollow tree. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. Of course, if this level [pointing with his cigarette] peters out + to the West we shall be in a tightish place; you know what a mine is at + this stage, Colonel Hope. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Absently.] Yes, yes. [Tracing a line.] What is there to prevent + its running out here to the East? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Well, nothing, except that as a matter of fact it doesn't. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [With some excitement.] I'm very glad you showed me these papers, + very glad! I say that it's a most astonishing thing if the ore suddenly + stops there. [A gleam of humour visits LEVER'S face.] I'm not an expert, + but you ought to prove that ground to the East more thoroughly. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Quizzically.] Of course, sir, if you advise that—— + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. If it were mine, I'd no more sit down under the belief that the + ore stopped there than I 'd—-There's a harmony in these things. + </p> + <p> + NEVER. I can only tell you what our experts say. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Ah! Experts! No faith in them—never had! Miners, lawyers, + theologians, cowardly lot—pays them to be cowardly. When they have + n't their own axes to grind, they've got their theories; a theory's a + dangerous thing. [He loses himself in contemplation of the papers.] Now my + theory is, you 're in strata here of what we call the Triassic Age. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Smiling faintly.] Ah! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. You've struck a fault, that's what's happened. The ore may be as + much as thirty or forty yards out; but it 's there, depend on it. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Would you back that opinion, sir? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [With dignity.] I never give an opinion that I'm not prepared to + back. I want to get to the bottom of this. What's to prevent the gold + going down indefinitely? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Nothing, so far as I know. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [With suspicion.] Eh! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. All I can tell you is: This is as far as we've got, and we want + more money before we can get any farther. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Absently.] Yes, yes; that's very usual. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. If you ask my personal opinion I think it's very doubtful that the + gold does go down. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Smiling.] Oh! a personal opinion a matter of this sort! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [As though about to take the papers.] Perhaps we'd better close the + sitting, sir; sorry to have bored you. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Now, now! Don't be so touchy! If I'm to put money in, I'm bound + to look at it all round. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [With lifted brows.] Please don't imagine that I want you to put + money in. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Confound it, sir! D 'you suppose I take you for a Company + promoter? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Thank you! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Looking at him doubtfully.] You've got Irish blood in you—um? + You're so hasty! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. If you 're really thinking of taking shares—my advice to you + is, don't! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Regretfully.] If this were an ordinary gold mine, I wouldn't + dream of looking at it, I want you to understand that. Nobody has a + greater objection to gold mines than I. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Looks down at his host with half-closed eyes.] But it is a gold + mine, Colonel Hope. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. I know, I know; but I 've been into it for myself; I've formed my + opinion personally. Now, what 's the reason you don't want me to invest? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Well, if it doesn't turn out as you expect, you'll say it's my + doing. I know what investors are. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Dubiously.] If it were a Westralian or a Kaffir I would n't + touch it with a pair of tongs! It 's not as if I were going to put much + in! [He suddenly bends above the papers as though magnetically attracted.] + I like these Triassic formations! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK, who has hung the last lantern, moodily departs.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. [Looking after him.] That young man seems depressed. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [As though remembering his principles.] I don't like mines, never + have! [Suddenly absorbed again.] I tell you what, Lever—this thing's + got tremendous possibilities. You don't seem to believe in it enough. No + mine's any good without faith; until I see for myself, however, I shan't + commit myself beyond a thousand. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Are you serious, sir? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Certainly! I've been thinking it over ever since you told me + Henty had fought shy. I 've a poor opinion of Henty. He's one of those + fellows that says one thing and does another. An opportunist! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Slowly.] I'm afraid we're all that, more or less. [He sits beneath + the hollow tree.] + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. A man never knows what he is himself. There 's my wife. She + thinks she 's——By the way, don't say anything to her about + this, please. And, Lever [nervously], I don't think, you know, this is + quite the sort of thing for my niece. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Quietly.] I agree. I mean to get her out of it. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [A little taken aback.] Ah! You know, she—she's in a very + delicate position, living by herself in London. [LEVER looks at him + ironically.] You [very nervously] see a good deal of her? If it had n't + been for Joy growing so fast, we shouldn't have had the child down here. + Her mother ought to have her with her. Eh! Don't you think so? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Forcing a smile.] Mrs. Gwyn always seems to me to get on all + right. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [As though making a discovery.] You know, I've found that when a + woman's living alone and unprotected, the very least thing will set a lot + of hags and jackanapes talking. [Hotly.] The more unprotected and helpless + a woman is, the more they revel in it. If there's anything I hate in this + world, it's those wretched creatures who babble about their neighbours' + affairs. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. I agree with you. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. One ought to be very careful not to give them—that is—— + [checks himself confused; then hurrying on]—I suppose you and Joy + get on all right? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Coolly.] Pretty well, thanks. I'm not exactly in Joy's line; have + n't seen very much of her, in fact. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Miss BEECH and JOY have been approaching from the house. But seeing + LEVER, JOY turns abruptly, hesitates a moment, and with an angry gesture + goes away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL [Unconscious.] Wonderfully affectionate little thing! Well, she'll + be going home to-morrow! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Who has been gazing after JOY.] Talkin' business, poor + creatures? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Oh, no! If you'll excuse me, I'll wash my hands before tea. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He glances at the COLONEL poring over papers, and, shrugging his + shoulders, strolls away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sitting in the swing.] I see your horrid papers. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Be quiet, Peachey! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. On a beautiful summer's day, too. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. That'll do now. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Unmoved.] For every ounce you take out of a gold mine you put + two in. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Who told you that rubbish? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [With devilry.] You did! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. This is n't an ordinary gold mine. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! quite a special thing. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [COLONEL stares at her, but subsiding at hey impassivity, he pores again + over the papers.] [Rosy has approached with a tea cloth.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ROSE. If you please, sir, the Missis told me to lay the tea. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Go away! Ten fives fifty. Ten 5 16ths, Peachey? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I hate your nasty sums! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROSE goes away. The COLONEL Writes. MRS. HOPE'S voice is heard, "Now + then, bring those chairs, you two. Not that one, Ernest." ERNEST and + LETTY appear through the openings of the wall, each with a chair.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [With dull exasperation.] What do you want? + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Tea, Father. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She places her chair and goes away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ERNEST. That Johnny-bird Lever is too cocksure for me, Colonel. Those + South American things are no good at all. I know all about them from young + Scrotton. There's not one that's worth a red cent. If you want a flutter—— + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Explosively.] Flutter! I'm not a gambler, sir! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Well, Colonel [with a smile], I only don't want you to chuck your + money away on a stiff 'un. If you want anything good you should go to + Mexico. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Jumping up and holding out the map.] Go to [He stops in time.] + What d'you call that, eh? M-E-X—— + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Not to be embarrassed.] It all depend on what part. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. You think you know everything—you think nothing's right + unless it's your own idea! Be good enough to keep your advice to yourself. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Moving with his chair, and stopping with a smile.] If you ask me, + I should say it wasn't playing the game to put Molly into a thing like + that. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. What do you mean, sir? + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Any Juggins can see that she's a bit gone on our friend. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Freezingly.] Indeed! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. He's not at all the sort of Johnny that appeals to me. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Really? + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Unmoved.] If I were you, Colonel, I should tip her the wink. He + was hanging about her at Ascot all the time. It 's a bit thick! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. HOPE followed by ROSE appears from the house.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [Stammering with passion.] Jackanapes! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Don't stand there, Tom; clear those papers, and let Rose lay + the table. Now, Ernest, go and get another chair. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL looks wildly round and sits beneath the hollow tree, with + his head held in his hands. ROSE lays the cloth.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. BEECH. [Sitting beside the COLONEL.] Poor creature! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Carrying his chair about with him.] Ask any Johnny in the City, + he 'll tell you Mexico's a very tricky country—the people are awful + rotters— + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Put that chair down, Ernest. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ERNEST looks at the chair, puts it down, opens his mouth, and goes + away. ROSE follows him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + What's he been talking about? You oughtn't to get so excited, Tom; is your + head bad, old man? Here, take these papers! [She hands the papers to the + COLONEL.] Peachey, go in and tell them tea 'll be ready in a minute, there + 's a good soul? Oh! and on my dressing table you'll find a bottle of Eau + de Cologne. + </p> + <p> + MRS. BEECH. Don't let him get in a temper again. That 's three times + to-day! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She goes towards the house. ] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. Never met such a fellow in my life, the most opinionated, + narrow-minded—thinks he knows everything. Whatever Letty could see + in him I can't think. Pragmatical beggar! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Now Tom! What have you been up to, to get into a state like + this? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Avoiding her eyes.] I shall lose my temper with him one of these + days. He's got that confounded habit of thinking nobody can be right but + himself. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. That's enough! I want to talk to you seriously! Dick's in love. + I'm perfectly certain of it. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Love! Who's he in love with—Peachey? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. You can see it all over him. If I saw any signs of Joy's + breaking out, I'd send them both away. I simply won't have it. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Why, she's a child! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Pursuing her own thoughts.] But she isn't—not yet. I've + been watching her very carefully. She's more in love with her Mother than + any one, follows her about like a dog! She's been quite rude to Mr. Lever. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Pursuing his own thoughts.] I don't believe a word of it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He rises and walks about] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Don't believe a word of what? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL is Silent.] [Pursuing his thoughts with her own.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + If I thought there was anything between Molly and Mr. Lever, d 'you + suppose I'd have him in the house? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL stops, and gives a sort of grunt.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + He's a very nice fellow; and I want you to pump him well, Tom, and see + what there is in this mine. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Uneasily.] Pump! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. [Looking at him curiously.] Yes, you 've been up to something! + Now what is it? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Pump my own guest! I never heard of such a thing! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. There you are on your high horse! I do wish you had a little + common-sense, Tom! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. I'd as soon you asked me to sneak about eavesdropping! Pump! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, what were you looking at these papers for? It does drive + me so wild the way you throw away all the chances you have of making a + little money. I've got you this opportunity, and you do nothing but rave + up and down, and talk nonsense! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [In a high voice] Much you know about it! I 've taken a thousand + shares in this mine— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He stops dead. There is a silence. ] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. You 've—WHAT? Without consulting me? Well, then, you 'll + just go and take them out again! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. You want me to——? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. The idea! As if you could trust your judgment in a thing like + that! You 'll just go at once and say there was a mistake; then we 'll + talk it over calmly. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Drawing himself up.] Go back on what I 've said? Not if I lose + every penny! First you worry me to take the shares, and then you worry me + not—I won't have it, Nell, I won't have it! + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, if I'd thought you'd have forgotten what you said this + morning and turned about like this, d'you suppose I'd have spoken to you + at all? Now, do you? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Rubbish! If you can't see that this is a special opportunity! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He walks away followed by MRS. HOPE, who endeavors to make him see her + point of view. ERNEST and LETTY are now returning from the house armed + with a third chair.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LETTY. What's the matter with everybody? Is it the heat? + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Preoccupied and sitting in the swing.] That sportsman, Lever, you + know, ought to be warned off. + </p> + <p> + LETTY. [Signing to ERNEST.] Where's Miss Joy, Rose? + </p> + <p> + ROSE. Don't know, Miss. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Putting down the tray, she goes.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROSE, has followed with the tea tray.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LETTY. Ernie, be careful, you never know where Joy is. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Preoccupied with his reflections.] Your old Dad 's as mad as a + hatter with me. + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Why? + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Well, I merely said what I thought, that Molly ought to look out + what's she's doing, and he dropped on me like a cartload of bricks. + </p> + <p> + LETTY. The Dad's very fond of Molly. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. But look here, d'you mean to tell me that she and Lever are n't—— + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Don't! Suppose they are! If joy were to hear it'd be simply awful. + I like Molly. I 'm not going to believe anything against her. I don't see + the use of it. If it is, it is, and if it is n't, it is n't. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Well, all I know is that when I told her the mine was probably a + frost she went for me like steam. + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Well, so should I. She was only sticking up for her friends. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Ask the old Peachey-bird. She knows a thing or two. Look here, I + don't mind a man's being a bit of a sportsman, but I think Molly's + bringin' him down here is too thick. Your old Dad's got one of his notions + that because this Josser's his guest, he must keep him in a glass case, + and take shares in his mine, and all the rest of it. + </p> + <p> + LETTY. I do think people are horrible, always thinking things. It's not as + if Molly were a stranger. She's my own cousin. I 'm not going to believe + anything about my own cousin. I simply won't. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Reluctantly realising the difference that this makes.] I suppose + it does make a difference, her bein' your cousin. + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Of course it does! I only hope to goodness no one will make Joy + suspect—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She stops and buts her finger to her lips, for JOY is coming towards + them, as the tea-bell sounds. She is followed by DICK and MISS BEECH + with the Eau de Cologne. The COLONEL and MRS. HOPE are also coming back, + discussing still each other's point of view.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. Where 's Mother? Isn't she here? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Now Joy, come and sit down; your mother's been told tea's + ready; if she lets it get cold it's her lookout. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Producing a rug, and spreading it beneath the tree.] Plenty of + room, Joy. + </p> + <p> + JOY. I don't believe Mother knows, Aunt Nell. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN and LEVER appear in the opening of the wall.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LETTY. [Touching ERNEST's arm.] Look, Ernie! Four couples and Peachey—— + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Preoccupied.] What couples? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh! Mums, here you are! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Seizing her, she turns her back on LEVER. They sit in various seats, + and MRS. HOPE pours out the tea.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Hand the sandwiches to Mr. Lever, Peachey. It's our own jam, + Mr. Lever. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Thanks. [He takes a bite.] It's splendid! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With forced gaiety.] It's the first time I've ever seen you + eat jam. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Smiling a forced smile.] Really! But I love it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a little bow.] You always refuse mine. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Who has been staring at her enemy, suddenly.] I'm all burnt up! Are + n't you simply boiled, Mother? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She touches her Mother's forehead.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Ugh! You're quite clammy, Joy. + </p> + <p> + JOY. It's enough to make any one clammy. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Her eyes go back to LEVER'S face as though to stab him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + ERNEST. [From the swing.] I say, you know, the glass is going down. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Suavely.] The glass in the hall's steady enough. + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Oh, I never go by that; that's a rotten old glass. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Oh! is it? + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. [Paying no attention.] I've got a little ripper—never puts + you in the cart. Bet you what you like we have thunder before tomorrow + night. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Removing her gaze from JOY to LEVER.] You don't think we + shall have it before to-night, do you? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Suavely.] I beg your pardon; did you speak to me? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I said, you don't think we shall have the thunder before + to-night, do you? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She resumes her watch on joy.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. [Blandly.] Really, I don't see any signs of it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy, crossing to the rug, flings herself down. And DICK sits + cross-legged, with his eyes fast fixed on her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Eating.] People don't often see what they don't want to, do + they? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [LEVER only lifts his brows.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Quickly breaking ivy.] What are you talking about? The + weather's perfect. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Isn't it? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. You'd better make a good tea, Peachey; nobody'll get anything + till eight, and then only cold shoulder. You must just put up with no hot + dinner, Mr. Lever. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Bowing.] Whatever is good enough for Miss Beech is good enough for + me. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sardonically-taking another sandwich.] So you think! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With forced gaiety.] Don't be so absurd, Peachey. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH, grunts slightly.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [Once more busy with his papers.] I see the name of your engineer + is Rodriguez—Italian, eh? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Portuguese. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Don't like that! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. I believe he was born in England. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Reassured.] Oh, was he? Ah! + </p> + <p> + ERNEST. Awful rotters, those Portuguese! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. There you go! + </p> + <p> + LETTY. Well, Father, Ernie only said what you said. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Now I want to ask you, Mr. Lever, is this gold mine safe? If it + isn't—I simply won't allow Tom to take these shares; he can't afford + it. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. It rather depends on what you call safe, Mrs. Hope. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. I don't want anything extravagant, of course; if they're going + to pay their 10 per cent, regularly, and Tom can have his money out at any + time—[There is a faint whistle from the swing.] I only want to know + that it's a thoroughly genuine thing. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Indignantly.] As if Maurice would be a Director if it was n't? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Now Molly, I'm simply asking—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Yes, you are! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Rising.] I'll take two thousand of those shares, Lever. To have + my wife talk like that—I 'm quite ashamed. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Oh, come, sir, Mrs. Hope only meant—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN looks eagerly at LEVER.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. [Quietly.] Let's go on the river, Joy. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JOY rises, and goes to her Mother's chair.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Of course! What rubbish, Tom! As if any one ever invested money + without making sure! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Ironically.] It seems a little difficult to make sure in this + case. There isn't the smallest necessity for Colonel Hope to take any + shares, and it looks to me as if he'd better not. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He lights a cigarette.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Now, Mr. Lever, don't be offended! I'm very anxious for Tom to + take the shares if you say the thing's so good. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. I 'm afraid I must ask to be left out, please. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Whispering.] Mother, if you've finished, do come, I want to show you + my room. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. I would n't say a word, only Tom's so easily taken in. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Fiercely.] Aunt Nell, how can't you? [Joy gives a little + savage laugh.] + </p> + <p> + LETTY. [Hastily.] Ernie, will you play Dick and me? Come on, Dick! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [All three go out towards the lawn.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. You ought to know your Uncle by this time, Molly. He's just + like a child. He'd be a pauper to-morrow if I did n't see to things. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Understand once for all that I shall take two thousand shares in + this mine. I 'm—I 'm humiliated. [He turns and goes towards the + house.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. HOPE. Well, what on earth have I said? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She hurries after him. ] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [In a low voice as she passes.] You need n't insult my friends! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [LEVER, shrugging his shoulders, has strolled aside. JOY, with a + passionate movement seen only by Miss BEECH, goes off towards the house. + MISS BEECH and MRS. GWYN aye left alone beside the remnants of the + feast.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Molly! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN looks up startled.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Take care, Molly, take care! The child! Can't you see? [Apostrophising + LEVER.] Take care, Molly, take care! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Coming back.] Awfully hot, is n't it? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Ah! and it'll be hotter if we don't mind. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Suavely.] Do we control these things? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH looking from face to face, nods her head repeatedly; then + gathering her skirts she walks towards the house. MRS. GWYN sits + motionless, staying before her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Extraordinary old lady! [He pitches away his cigarette.] What's the matter + with her, Molly? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN, [With an effort.] Oh! Peachey's a character! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Frowning.] So I see! [There is a silence.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Maurice! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Yes. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Aunt Nell's hopeless, you mustn't mind her. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [In a dubious and ironic voice.] My dear girl, I 've too much to + bother me to mind trifles like that. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Going to him suddenly.] Tell me, won't you? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [LEVER shrugs his shoulders.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + A month ago you'd have told me soon enough! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Now, Molly! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Ah! [With a bitter smile.] The Spring's soon over. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. It 's always Spring between us. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Is it? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. You did n't tell me what you were thinking about just now when you + sat there like stone. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. It does n't do for a woman to say too much. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Have I been so bad to you that you need feel like that, Molly? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a little warm squeeze of his arm.] Oh! my dear, it's only + that I'm so—- + </p> + <p> + [She stops.] + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Gently]. So what? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [In a low voice.] It's hateful here. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. I didn't want to come. I don't understand why you suggested it. + [MRS. GWYN is silent.] It's been a mistake. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Her eyes fixed on the ground.] Joy comes home to-morrow. I + thought if I brought you here—I should know—— + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Vexedly.] Um! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Losing her control.] Can't you SEE? It haunts me? How are we + to go on? I must know—I must know! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. I don't see that my coming—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I thought I should have more confidence; I thought I should be + able to face it better in London, if you came down here openly—and + now—I feel I must n't speak or look at you. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. You don't think your Aunt—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Scornfully.] She! It's only Joy I care about. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Frowning.] We must be more careful, that's all. We mustn't give + ourselves away again, as we were doing just now. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. When any one says anything horrid to you, I can't help it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She puts her hand on the label of his coat.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. My dear child, take care! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN drops her hand. She throws her head back, and her throat is + seen to work as though she were gulping down a bitter draught. She moves + away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Following hastily.] Don't dear, don't! I only meant—Come, Molly, + let's be sensible. I want to tell you something about the mine. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a quavering smile.] Yes-let 's talk sensibly, and walk + properly in this sensible, proper place. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [LEVER is seen trying to soothe her, and yet to walk properly. As they + disappear, they are viewed by JOY, who, like the shadow parted from its + figure, has come to join it again. She stands now, foiled, a carnation + in her hand; then flings herself on a chair, and leans her elbows on the + table.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. I hate him! Pig! + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [Who has come to clear the tea things.] Did you call, Miss? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Not you! + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [Motionless.] No, Miss! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Leaning back and tearing the flower.] Oh! do hurry up, Rose! + </p> + <p> + ROSE. [Collects the tea things.] Mr. Dick's coming down the path! Aren't I + going to get you to do your frock, Miss Joy? + </p> + <p> + JOY. No. + </p> + <p> + ROSE. What will the Missis say? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh, don't be so stuck, Rose! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROSE goes, but DICK has come.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. Come on the river, Joy, just for half an hour, as far as the + kingfishers—do! [Joy shakes her head.] Why not? It 'll be so jolly + and cool. I'm most awfully sorry if I worried you this morning. I didn't + mean to. I won't again, I promise. [Joy slides a look at him, and from + that look he gains a little courage.] Do come! It'll be the last time. I + feel it awfully, Joy. + </p> + <p> + JOY. There's nothing to hurt you! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Gloomily.] Isn't there—when you're like this? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [In a hard voice.] If you don't like me, why do you follow me about? + </p> + <p> + DICK. What is the matter? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Looking up, as if for want of air.] Oh! Don't! + </p> + <p> + DICK. Oh, Joy, what is the matter? Is it the heat? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [With a little laugh.] Yes. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Have some Eau de Cologne. I 'll make you a bandage. [He takes the + Eau de Cologne, and makes a bandage with his handkerchief.] It's quite + clean. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh, Dick, you are so funny! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Bandaging her forehead.] I can't bear you to feel bad; it puts me + off completely. I mean I don't generally make a fuss about people, but + when it 's you—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Suddenly.] I'm all right. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Is that comfy? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [With her chin up, and her eyes fast closed.] Quite. + </p> + <p> + DICK. I'm not going to stay and worry you. You ought to rest. Only, Joy! + Look here! If you want me to do anything for you, any time—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Half opening her eyes.] Only to go away. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK bites his lips and walks away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Dick—[softly]—Dick! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [DICK stops.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I didn't mean that; will you get me some water-irises for this evening? + </p> + <p> + DICK. Won't I? [He goes to the hollow tree and from its darkness takes a + bucket and a boat-hook.] I know where there are some rippers! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JOY stays unmoving with her eyes half closed.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Are you sure you 're all right. Joy? You 'll just rest here in the shade, + won't you, till I come back?—it 'll do you no end of good. I shan't + be twenty minutes. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He goes, but cannot help returning softly, to make sure.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + You're quite sure you 're all right? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [JOY nods. He goes away towards the river. But there is no rest for JOY. + The voices of MRS. GWYN and LEVER are heard returning.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [With a gesture of anger.] Hateful! Hateful! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She runs away.] [MRS. GWYN and LEVER are seen approaching; they pass + the tree, in conversation.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. But I don't see why, Maurice. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. We mean to sell the mine; we must do some more work on it, and for + that we must have money. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. If you only want a little, I should have thought you could have + got it in a minute in the City. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Shaking his head.] No, no; we must get it privately. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Doubtfully.] Oh! [She slowly adds.] Then it isn't such a good + thing! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [And she does not look at him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. Well, we mean to sell it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. What about the people who buy? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Dubiously regarding her.] My dear girl, they've just as much + chance as we had. It 's not my business to think of them. There's YOUR + thousand pounds—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Softly.] Don't bother about my money, Maurice. I don't want + you to do anything not quite—— + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Evasively.] Oh! There's my brother's and my sister's too. I 'm not + going to let any of you run any risk. When we all went in for it the thing + looked splendid; it 's only the last month that we 've had doubts. What + bothers me now is your Uncle. I don't want him to take these shares. It + looks as if I'd come here on purpose. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Oh! he mustn't take them! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. That 's all very well; but it 's not so simple. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Shyly.] But, Maurice, have you told him about the selling? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Gloomily, under the hollow tree.] It 's a Board secret. I'd no + business to tell even you. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. But he thinks he's taking shares in a good—a permanent + thing. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. You can't go into a mining venture without some risk. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Oh yes, I know—but—but Uncle Tom is such a dear! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Stubbornly.] I can't help his being the sort of man he is. I did + n't want him to take these shares; I told him so in so many words. Put + yourself in my place, Molly: how can I go to him and say, "This thing may + turn out rotten," when he knows I got you to put your money into it? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [But JOY, the lost shadow, has come back. She moves forward resolutely. + They are divided from her by the hollow tree; she is unseen. She stops.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I think he ought to be told about the selling; it 's not fair. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. What on earth made him rush at the thing like that? I don't + understand that kind of man. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Impulsively.] I must tell him, Maurice; I can't let him take + the shares without—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She puts her hand on his arm.] [Joy turns, as if to go back whence she + came, but stops once more.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. [Slowly and very quietly.] I did n't think you'd give me away, + Molly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I don't think I quite understand. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. If you tell the Colonel about this sale the poor old chap will + think me a man that you ought to have nothing to do with. Do you want + that? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN, giving her lover a long look, touches his sleeve. JOY, + slipping behind the hollow tree, has gone.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + You can't act in a case like this as if you 'd only a principle to + consider. It 's the—the special circumstances. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a faint smile.] But you'll be glad to get the money won't + you? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. By George! if you're going to take it like this, Molly + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Don't! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. We may not sell after all, dear, we may find it turn out trumps. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a shiver.] I don't want to hear any more. I know women + don't understand. [Impulsively.] It's only that I can't bear any one + should think that you—— + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Distressed.] For goodness sake don't look like that, Molly! Of + course, I'll speak to your Uncle. I'll stop him somehow, even if I have to + make a fool of myself. I 'll do anything you want—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I feel as if I were being smothered here. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. It 's only for one day. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With sudden tenderness.] It's not your fault, dear. I ought to + have known how it would be. Well, let's go in! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She sets her lips, and walks towards the house with LEVER following. + But no sooner has she disappeared than JOY comes running after; she + stops, as though throwing down a challenge. Her cheeks and ears are + burning.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. Mother! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [After a moment MRS. GWYN reappears in the opening of the wall.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Oh! here you are! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Breathlessly.] Yes. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Uncertainly.] Where—have you been? You look dreadfully + hot; have you been running? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Yes——no. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Looking at her fixedly.] What's the matter—you 're + trembling! [Softly.] Are n't you well, dear? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Yes—I don't know. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. What is it, darling? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Suddenly clinging to her.] Oh! Mother! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I don't understand. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Breathlessly.] Oh, Mother, let me go back home with you now at once—— + MRS. GWYN. [Her face hardening.] Why? What on earth—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. I can't stay here. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. But why? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I want to be with you—Oh! Mother, don't you love me? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a faint smile.] Of course I love you, Joy. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Ah! but you love him more. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Love him—whom? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh! Mother, I did n't—[She tries to take her Mother's hand, but + fails.] Oh! don't. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. You'd better explain what you mean, I think. + </p> + <p> + JOY. I want to get you to—he—he 's—he 'snot——! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Frigidly.] Really, Joy! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Passionately.] I'll fight against him, and I know there's something + wrong about—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She stops.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. About what? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Let's tell Uncle Tom, Mother, and go away. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Tell Uncle—Tom—what? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Looking down and almost whispering.] About—about—the + mine. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. What about the mine? What do you mean? [Fiercely.] Have you + been spying on me? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Shrinking.] No! oh, no! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Where were you? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Just above her breath.] I—I heard something. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Bitterly.] But you were not spying? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I was n't—I wasn't! I didn't want—to hear. I only heard a + little. I couldn't help listening, Mother. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a little laugh.] Couldn't help listening? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Through her teeth.] I hate him. I didn't mean to listen, but I hate + him. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I see. Why do you hate him? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There is a silence.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. He—he——[She stops.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Yes? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [With a sort of despair.] I don't know. Oh! I don't know! But I feel—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I can't reason with you. As to what you heard, it 's— + ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + JOY. It 's not that. It 's—it 's you! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Stonily.] I don't know what you mean. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Passionately.] I wish Dad were here! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Do you love your Father as much as me? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh! Mother, no-you know I don't. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Resentfully.] Then why do you want him? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Almost under her breath.] Because of that man. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Indeed! + </p> + <p> + JOY. I will never—never make friends with him. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Cuttingly.] I have not asked you to. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [With a blind movement of her hand.] Oh, Mother! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN half turns away.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Mother—won't you? Let's tell Uncle Tom and go away from him? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. If you were not, a child, Joy, you wouldn't say such things. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Eagerly.] I'm not a child, I'm—I'm a woman. I am. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. No! You—are—not a woman, Joy. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She sees joy throw up her arms as though warding off a blow, and + turning finds that LEVER is standing in the opening of the wall.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. [Looking from face to face.] What's the matter? [There is no + answer.] What is it, Joy? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Passionately.] I heard you, I don't care who knows. I'd listen + again. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Impassively.] Ah! and what did I say that was so very dreadful? + </p> + <p> + JOY. You're a—a—you 're a—coward! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a sort of groan.] Joy! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Stepping up to JOY, and standing with his hands behind him— + in a low voice.] Now hit me in the face—hit me—hit me as hard + as you can. Go on, Joy, it'll do you good. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy raises her clenched hand, but drops it, and hides her face.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Why don't you? I'm not pretending! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy makes no sign.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Come, joy; you'll make yourself ill, and that won't help, will it? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [But joy still makes no sign.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [With determination.] What's the matter? now come—tell me! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [In a stifled, sullen voice.] Will you leave my mother alone? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Oh! my dear Joy, don't be silly! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Wincing; then with sudden passion.] I defy you—I defy you! + [She rushes from their sight.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a movement of distress.] Oh! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Turning to MRS. GWYN with a protecting gesture.] Never mind, dear! + It'll be—it'll be all right! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [But the expression of his face is not the expression of his words.] + </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> + <h2> + ACT III + </h2> + <blockquote> + <p> + It is evening; a full yellow moon is shining through the branches of the + hollow tree. The Chinese lanterns are alight. There is dancing in the + house; the music sounds now loud, now soft. MISS BEECH is sitting on the + rustic seat in a black bunchy evening dress, whose inconspicuous opening + is inlaid with white. She slowly fans herself. DICK comes from the house + in evening dress. He does not see Miss BEECH. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. Curse! [A short silence.] Curse! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Poor young man! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [With a start.] Well, Peachey, I can't help it [He fumbles off his + gloves.] + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Did you ever know any one that could? + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Earnestly.] It's such awfully hard lines on Joy. I can't get her + out of my head, lying there with that beastly headache while everybody's + jigging round. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! you don't mind about yourself—noble young man! + </p> + <p> + DICK. I should be a brute if I did n't mind more for her. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. So you think it's a headache, do you? + </p> + <p> + DICK. Did n't you hear what Mrs. Gwyn said at dinner about the sun? [With + inspiration.] I say, Peachey, could n't you—could n't you just go up + and give her a message from me, and find out if there 's anything she + wants, and say how brutal it is that she 's seedy; it would be most + awfully decent of you. And tell her the dancing's no good without her. Do, + Peachey, now do! Ah! and look here! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He dives into the hollow of the tree, and brings from out of it a pail + of water in which are placed two bottles of champagne, and some yellow + irises—he takes the irises.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + You might give her these. I got them specially for her, and I have n't had + a chance. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Lifting a bottle.] What 's this? + </p> + <p> + DICK. Fizz. The Colonel brought it from the George. It 's for supper; he + put it in here because of—[Smiling faintly]—Mrs. Hope, I + think. Peachey, do take her those irises. + </p> + <p> + MISS. BEECH. D' you think they'll do her any good? + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Crestfallen.] I thought she'd like—I don't want to worry her—you + might try. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH shakes her head.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Why not? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. The poor little creature won't let me in. + </p> + <p> + DICK. You've been up then! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sharply.] Of course I've been up. I've not got a stone for my + heart, young man! + </p> + <p> + DICK. All right! I suppose I shall just have to get along somehow. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [With devilry.] That's what we've all got to do. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Gloomily.] But this is too brutal for anything! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Worse than ever happened to any one! + </p> + <p> + DICK. I swear I'm not thinking of myself. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Did y' ever know anybody that swore they were? + </p> + <p> + DICK. Oh! shut up! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. You'd better go in and get yourself a partner. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [With pale desperation.] Look here, Peachey, I simply loathe all + those girls. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Ah-h! [Ironically.] Poor lot, are n't they? + </p> + <p> + DICK. All right; chaff away, it's good fun, isn't it? It makes me sick to + dance when Joy's lying there. Her last night, too! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sidling to him.] You're a good young man, and you 've got a + good heart. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She takes his hand, and puts it to her cheek.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. Peachey—I say, Peachey d' you think there 's—I mean d' + you think there'll ever be any chance for me? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I thought that was coming! I don't approve of your making love + at your time of life; don't you think I 'm going to encourage you. + </p> + <p> + DICK. But I shall be of age in a year; my money's my own, it's not as if I + had to ask any one's leave; and I mean, I do know my own mind. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Of course you do. Nobody else would at your age, but you do. + </p> + <p> + DICK. I would n't ask her to promise, it would n't be fair when she 's so + young, but I do want her to know that I shall never change. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. And suppose—only suppose—she's fond of you, and + says she'll never change. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Oh! Peachey! D' you think there's a chance of that—do you? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. A-h-h! + </p> + <p> + DICK. I wouldn't let her bind herself, I swear I wouldn't. [Solemnly.] I'm + not such a selfish brute as you seem to think. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sidling close to him and in a violent whisper.] Well— + have a go! + </p> + <p> + DICK. Really? You are a brick, Peachey! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He kisses her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEACH. [Yielding pleasurably; then remembering her principles.] Don't + you ever say I said so! You're too young, both of you. + </p> + <p> + DICK. But it is exceptional—I mean in my case, is n't it? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL and MRS. GWYN are coming down the lawn.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! very! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She sits beneath the tree and fans herself.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. The girls are all sitting out, Dick! I've been obliged to dance + myself. Phew! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He mops his brow.] [DICK swinging round goes rushing off towards the + house.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Looking after him.] Hallo! What's the matter with him? Cooling your + heels, Peachey? By George! it's hot. Fancy the poor devils in London on a + night like this, what? [He sees the moon.] It's a full moon. You're lucky + to be down here, Molly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [In a low voice.] Very! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! so you think she's lucky, do you? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Expanding his nostrils.] Delicious scent to-night! Hay and roses—delicious. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He seats himself between them.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + A shame that poor child has knocked up like this. Don't think it was the + sun myself—more likely neuralgic—she 's subject to neuralgia, + Molly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Motionless.] I know. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Got too excited about your coming. I told Nell not to keep + worrying her about her frock, and this is the result. But your Aunt + —you know—she can't let a thing alone! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Ah! 't isn't neuralgia. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN looks at her quickly and averts her eyes.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. Excitable little thing. You don't understand her, Peachey. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Don't I? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. She's all affection. Eh, Molly? I remember what I was like at her + age, a poor affectionate little rat, and now look at me! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Fanning herself.] I see you. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [A little sadly.] We forget what we were like when we were young. + She's been looking forward to to-night ever since you wrote; and now to + have to go to bed and miss the dancing. Too bad! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Don't, Uncle Tom! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Patting her hand.] There, there, old girl, don't think about it. + She'll be all right tomorrow. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. If I were her mother I'd soon have her up. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Have her up with that headache! What are you talking about, + Peachey? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I know a remedy. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Well, out with it. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Oh! Molly knows it too! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Staring at the ground.] It's easy to advise. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Fidgetting.] Well, if you're thinking of morphia for her, don't + have anything to do with it. I've always set my face against morphia; the + only time I took it was in Burmah. I'd raging neuralgia for two days. I + went to our old doctor, and I made him give me some. "Look here, doctor," + I said, "I hate the idea of morphia, I 've never taken it, and I never + want to." + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Looking at MRS. GWYN.] When a tooth hurts, you should have it + out. It 's only puttin' off the evil day. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. You say that because it was n't your own. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Well, it was hollow, and you broke your principles! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Hollow yourself, Peachey; you're as bad as any one! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH [With devilry.] Well, I know that! [She turns to MRS. GWYN.] He + should have had it out! Shouldn't he, Molly? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I—don't—judge for other people. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She gets up suddenly, as though deprived of air.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [Alarmed.] Hallo, Molly! Are n't you feeling the thing, old girl? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Let her get some air, poor creature! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Who follows anxiously.] Your Aunt's got some first-rate sal + volatile. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. It's all right, Uncle Tom. I felt giddy, it's nothing, now. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. That's the dancing. [He taps his forehead.] I know what it is + when you're not used to it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a sudden bitter outburst.] I suppose you think I 'm a + very bad mother to be amusing myself while joy's suffering. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. My dear girl, whatever put such a thought into your head? We all + know if there were anything you could do, you'd do it at once, would n't + she, Peachey? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH turns a slow look on MRS. GWYN.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Ah! you see, Peachey knows me better. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Following up his thoughts.] I always think women are wonderful. + There's your Aunt, she's very funny, but if there's anything the matter + with me, she'll sit up all night; but when she's ill herself, and you try + to do anything for her, out she raps at once. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [In a low voice.] There's always one that a woman will do + anything for. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Exactly what I say. With your Aunt it's me, and by George! Molly, + sometimes I wish it was n't. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH, [With meaning.] But is it ever for another woman! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. You old cynic! D' you mean to say Joy wouldn't do anything on + earth for her Mother, or Molly for Joy? You don't know human nature. What + a wonderful night! Have n't seen such a moon for years, she's like a + great, great lamp! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN hiding from Miss BEECH's eyes, rises and slips her arm + through his; they stand together looking at the moon.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Don't like these Chinese lanterns, with that moon-tawdry! eh! By Jove, + Molly, I sometimes think we humans are a rubbishy lot—each of us + talking and thinking of nothing but our own petty little affairs; and when + you see a great thing like that up there—[Sighs.] But there's your + Aunt, if I were to say a thing like that to her she 'd— she'd think + me a lunatic; and yet, you know, she 's a very good woman. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Half clinging to him.] Do you think me very selfish, Uncle + Tom? + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. My dear—what a fancy! Think you selfish—of course I + don't; why should I? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Dully.] I don't know. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Changing the subject nervously.] I like your friend, Lever, + Molly. He came to me before dinner quite distressed about your Aunt, + beggin' me not to take those shares. She 'll be the first to worry me, but + he made such a point of it, poor chap—in the end I was obliged to + say I wouldn't. I thought it showed very' nice feeling. [Ruefully.] It's a + pretty tight fit to make two ends meet on my income—I've missed a + good thing, all owing to your Aunt. [Dropping his voice.] I don't mind + telling you, Molly, I think they've got a much finer mine there than + they've any idea of. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN gives way to laughter that is very near to sobs.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [With dignity.] I can't see what there is to laugh at. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I don't know what's the matter with me this evening. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [In a low voice.] I do. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. There, there! Give me a kiss, old girl! [He kisses her on the + brow.] Why, your forehead's as hot as fire. I know—I know-you 're + fretting about Joy. Never mind—come! [He draws her hand beneath his + arm.] Let's go and have a look at the moon on the river. We all get upset + at times; eh! [Lifting his hand as if he had been stung.] Why, you 're not + crying, Molly! I say! Don't do that, old girl, it makes me wretched. Look + here, Peachey. [Holding out the hand on which the tear has dropped.] This + is dreadful! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With a violent effort.] It's all right, Uncle Tom! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH wipes her own eyes stealthily. From the house is heard the + voice of MRS. HOPE, calling "Tom."] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Some one calling you. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. There, there, my dear, you just stay here, and cool yourself—I + 'll come back—shan't be a minute. [He turns to go.] + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. HOPE'S voice sounds nearer.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Turning back.] And Molly, old girl, don't you mind anything I said. I + don't remember what it was—it must have been something, I suppose. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He hastily retreats.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [In a fierce low voice.] Why do you torture me? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sadly.] I don't want to torture you. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN, But you do. D' you think I haven't seen this coming—all + these weeks. I knew she must find out some time! But even a day counts—— + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. I don't understand why you brought him down here. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [After staring at her, bitterly.] When day after day and night + after night you've thought of nothing but how to keep them both, you might + a little want to prove that it was possible, mightn't you? But you don't + understand—how should you? You've never been a mother! [And + fiercely.] You've never had a lov—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH raises her face-it is all puckered.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Impulsively.] Oh, I did n't mean that, Peachey! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. All right, my dear. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I'm so dragged in two! [She sinks into a chair.] I knew it must + come. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Does she know everything, Molly? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. She guesses. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Mournfully.] It's either him or her then, my dear; one or the + other you 'll have to give up. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Motionless.] Life's very hard on women! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Life's only just beginning for that child, Molly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. You don't care if it ends for me! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Is it as bad as that? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Yes. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Rocking hey body.] Poor things! Poor things! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Are you still fond of me? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Yes, yes, my dear, of course I am. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. In spite of my-wickedness? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She laughs.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Who am I to tell what's wicked and what is n't? God knows + you're both like daughters to me! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Abruptly.] I can't. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Molly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. You don't know what you're asking. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. If I could save you suffering, my dear, I would. I hate + suffering, if it 's only a fly, I hate it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Turning away from her.] Life is n't fair. Peachey, go in and + leave me alone. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She leans back motionless.] [Miss BEECH gets off her seat, and stroking + MRS. GWYN's arm in passing goes silently away. In the opening of the + wall she meets LEVER who is looking for his partner. They make way for + each other.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. [Going up to MRS. GWYN—gravely.] The next is our dance, + Molly. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Unmoving.] Let's sit it out here, then. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [LEVER sits down.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. I've made it all right with your Uncle. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Dully.] Oh? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. I spoke to him about the shares before dinner. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Yes, he told me, thank you. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. There 's nothing to worry over, dear. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Passionately.] What does it matter about the wretched shares + now? I 'm stifling. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She throws her scarf off.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. I don't understand what you mean by "now." + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Don't you? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. We were n't—Joy can't know—why should she? I don't + believe for a minute—— + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Because you don't want to. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Do you mean she does? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Her heart knows. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [LEVER makes a movement of discomfiture; suddenly MRS. GWYN looks at him + as though to read his soul.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I seem to bring you nothing but worry, Maurice. Are you tired of me? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Meeting her eyes.] No, I am not. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Ah, but would you tell me if you were? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Softly.] Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN struggles to look at him, then covers her face with her + hands.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. If I were to give you up, you'd forget me in a month. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Why do you say such things? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. If only I could believe I was necessary to you! + </p> + <p> + LEVER. [Forcing the fervour of his voice.] But you are! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Am I? [With the ghost of a smile.] Midsummer day! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She gives a laugh that breaks into a sob.] [The music o f a waltz + sounds from the house.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. For God's sake, don't, Molly—I don't believe in going to meet + trouble. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. It's staring me in the face. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Let the future take care of itself! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN has turned away her face, covering it with her hands.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Don't, Molly! [Trying to pull her hands away.] Don't! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Oh! what shall I do? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [There is a silence; the music of the waltz sounds louder from the + house.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Starting up.] Listen! One can't sit it out and dance it too. Which is it + to be, Maurice, dancing—or sitting out? It must be one or the other, + must n't it? + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Molly! Molly! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Ah, my dear! [Standing away from him as though to show + herself.] How long shall I keep you? This is all that 's left of me. It 's + time I joined the wallflowers. [Smiling faintly.] It's time I played the + mother, is n't it? [In a whisper.] It'll be all sitting out then. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Don't! Let's go and dance, it'll do you good. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He puts his hands on her arms, and in a gust of passion kisses her lips + and throat.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I can't give you up—I can't. Love me, oh! love me! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [For a moment they stand so; then, with sudden remembrance of where they + are, they move apart.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + LEVER. Are you all right now, darling? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Trying to smile.] Yes, dear—quite. + </p> + <p> + LEVER. Then let 's go, and dance. [They go.] + </p> + <p> + [For a few seconds the hollow tree stands alone; then from the house ROSE + comes and enters it. She takes out a bottle of champagne, wipes it, and + carries it away; but seeing MRS. GWYN's scarf lying across the chair, she + fingers it, and stops, listening to the waltz. Suddenly draping it round + her shoulders, she seizes the bottle of champagne, and waltzes with + abandon to the music, as though avenging a long starvation of her + instincts. Thus dancing, she is surprised by DICK, who has come to smoke a + cigarette and think, at the spot where he was told to "have a go." ROSE, + startled, stops and hugs the bottle.] + </p> + <p> + DICK. It's not claret, Rose, I should n't warm it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [ROSE, taking off the scarf, replaces it on the chair; then with the + half-warmed bottle, she retreats. DICK, in the swing, sits thinking of + his fate. Suddenly from behind the hollow tree he sees Joy darting + forward in her day dress with her hair about her neck, and her skirt all + torn. As he springs towards her, she turns at bay.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. Joy! + </p> + <p> + JOY. I want Uncle Tom. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [In consternation.] But ought you to have got up—I thought you + were ill in bed; oughtn't you to be lying down? + </p> + <p> + JOY. If have n't been in bed. Where's Uncle Tom? + </p> + <p> + DICK. But where have you been?-your dress is all torn. Look! [He touches + the torn skirt.] + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Tearing it away.] In the fields. Where's Uncle Tom? + </p> + <p> + DICK. Are n't you really ill then? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy shakes her head.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK, [showing her the irises.] Look at these. They were the best I could + get. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Don't! I want Uncle Tom! + </p> + <p> + DICK. Won't you take them? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I 've got something else to do. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [With sudden resolution.] What do you want the Colonel for? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I want him. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Alone? + </p> + <p> + JOY. Yes. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Joy, what is the matter? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I 've got something to tell him. + </p> + <p> + DICK. What? [With sudden inspiration.] Is it about Lever? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [In a low voice.] The mine. + </p> + <p> + DICK. The mine? + </p> + <p> + JOY. It 's not—not a proper one. + </p> + <p> + DICK. How do you mean, Joy? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I overheard. I don't care, I listened. I would n't if it had been + anybody else, but I hate him. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Gravely.] What did you hear? + </p> + <p> + JOY. He 's keeping back something Uncle Tom ought to know. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Are you sure? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy makes a rush to pass him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Barring the way.] No, wait a minute—you must! Was it something that + really matters?—I don't want to know what. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Yes, it was. + </p> + <p> + DICK. What a beastly thing—are you quite certain, Joy? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Between her teeth.] Yes. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Then you must tell him, of course, even if you did overhear. You + can't stand by and see the Colonel swindled. Whom was he talking to? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I won't tell you. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Taking her wrist.] Was it was it your Mother? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy bends her head.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + But if it was your Mother, why does n't she—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. Let me go! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Still holding her.] I mean I can't see what—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Passionately.] Let me go! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Releasing her.] I'm thinking of your Mother, Joy. She would never—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Covering her face.] That man! + </p> + <p> + DICK. But joy, just think! There must be some mistake. It 's so queer—it + 's quite impossible! + </p> + <p> + JOY. He won't let her. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Won't let her—won't let her? But [Stopping dead, and in a very + different voice.] Oh! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Passionately.] Why d' you look at me like that? Why can't you speak? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She waits for him to speak, but he does not.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I'm going to show what he is, so that Mother shan't speak to him again. I + can—can't I—if I tell Uncle Tom?—can't I——? + </p> + <p> + DICK. But Joy—if your Mother knows a thing like—that—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. She wanted to tell—she begged him—and he would n't. + </p> + <p> + DICK. But, joy, dear, it means—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. I hate him, I want to make her hate him, and I will. + </p> + <p> + DICK. But, Joy, dear, don't you see—if your Mother knows a thing + like that, and does n't speak of it, it means that she—it means that + you can't make her hate him—it means——If it were anybody + else— but, well, you can't give your own Mother away! + </p> + <p> + JOY. How dare you! How dare you! [Turning to the hollow tree.] It is n't + true—Oh! it is n't true! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [In deep distress.] Joy, dear, I never meant, I didn't really! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He tries to pull her hands down from her face.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [Suddenly.] Oh! go away, go away! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN is seen coming back. JOY springs into the tree. DICK quickly + steals away. MRS. GWYN goes up to the chair and takes the scarf that she + has come for, and is going again when JOY steals out to her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Mother! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MRS. GWYN stands looking at her with her teeth set on her lower lip.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Oh! Mother, it is n't true? + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [Very still.] What is n't true? + </p> + <p> + JOY. That you and he are—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Searching her Mother's face, which is deadly still. In a whisper.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Then it is true. Oh! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. That's enough, Joy! What I am is my affair—not yours— + do you understand? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Low and fierce.] Yes, I do. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. You don't. You're only a child. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Passionately.] I understand that you've hurt [She stops.] + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Do you mean your Father? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Bowing her head.] Yes, and—and me. [She covers her face.] I'm—I'm + ashamed. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. I brought you into the world, and you say that to me? Have I + been a bad mother to you? + </p> + <p> + JOY. [In a smothered voice.] Oh! Mother! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Ashamed? Am I to live all my life like a dead woman because + you're ashamed? Am I to live like the dead because you 're a child that + knows nothing of life? Listen, Joy, you 'd better understand this once for + all. Your Father has no right over me and he knows it. We 've been hateful + to each other for years. Can you understand that? Don't cover your face + like a child—look at me. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy drops her hands, and lifts her face. MRS. GWYN looks back at her, + her lips are quivering; she goes on speaking with stammering rapidity.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + D' you think—because I suffered when you were born and because I 've + suffered since with every ache you ever had, that that gives you the right + to dictate to me now? [In a dead voice.] I've been unhappy enough and I + shall be unhappy enough in the time to come. [Meeting the hard wonder in + Joy's face.] Oh! you untouched things, you're as hard and cold as iron! + </p> + <p> + JOY. I would do anything for you, Mother. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Except—let me live, Joy. That's the only thing you won't + do for me, I quite understand. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh! Mother, you don't understand—I want you so; and I seem to + be nothing to you now. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Nothing to me? [She smiles.] + </p> + <p> + JOY. Mother, darling, if you're so unhappy let's forget it all, let's go + away and I 'll be everything to you, I promise. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With the ghost of a laugh.] Ah, Joy! + </p> + <p> + JOY. I would try so hard. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. [With the same quivering smile.] My darling, I know you would, + until you fell in love yourself. + </p> + <p> + JOY. Oh, Mother, I wouldn't, I never would, I swear it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. There has never been a woman, joy, that did not fall in love. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [In a despairing whisper.] But it 's wrong of you it's wicked! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. If it's wicked, I shall pay for it, not you! + </p> + <p> + JOY. But I want to save you, Mother! + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Save me? [Breaking into laughter.] + </p> + <p> + JOY. I can't bear it that you—if you 'll only—I'll never leave + you. You think I don't know what I 'm saying, but I do, because even now I—I + half love somebody. Oh, Mother! [Pressing her breast.] I feel—I feel + so awful—as if everybody knew. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. You think I'm a monster to hurt you. Ah! yes! You'll understand + better some day. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [In a sudden outburst of excited fear.] I won't believe it— I—I—can't—you're + deserting me, Mother. + </p> + <p> + MRS. GWYN. Oh, you untouched things! You—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy' looks up suddenly, sees her face, and sinks down on her knees.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. Mother—it 's for me! + </p> + <p> + GWYN. Ask for my life, JOY—don't be afraid. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy turns her face away. MRS. GWYN bends suddenly and touches her + daughter's hair; JOY shrinks from that touch.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [Recoiling as though she had been stung.] I forgot—I 'm deserting + you. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [And swiftly without looking back she goes away. Joy, left alone under + the hollow tree, crouches lower, and her shoulders shake. Here DICK + finds her, when he hears no longer any sound o f voices. He falls on his + knees beside her.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. Oh! Joy; dear, don't cry. It's so dreadful to see you! I 'd do + anything not to see you cry! Say something. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy is still for a moment, then the shaking of the shoulders begins + again.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Joy, darling! It's so awful, you 'll make yourself ill, and it is n't + worth it, really. I 'd do anything to save you pain—won't you stop + just for a minute? + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy is still again.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Nothing in the world 's worth your crying, Joy. Give me just a little + look! + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Looking; in a smothered voice.] Don't! + </p> + <p> + DICK. You do look so sweet! Oh, Joy, I'll comfort you, I'll take it all on + myself. I know all about it. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy gives a sobbing laugh] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I do. I 've had trouble too, I swear I have. It gets better, it does + really. + </p> + <p> + JOY. You don't know—it's—it's—— + </p> + <p> + DICK. Don't think about it! No, no, no! I know exactly what it's like. [He + strokes her arm.] + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Shrinking, in a whisper.] You mustn't. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The music of a waltz is heard again.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + DICK. Look here, joy! It's no good, we must talk it over calmly. + </p> + <p> + JOY. You don't see! It's the—it 's the disgrace—— + </p> + <p> + DICK. Oh! as to disgrace—she's your Mother, whatever she does; I'd + like to see anybody say anything about her—[viciously]—I'd + punch his head. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Gulping her tears.] That does n't help. + </p> + <p> + DICK. But if she doesn't love your Father—— + </p> + <p> + JOY. But she's married to him! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Hastily.] Yes, of course, I know, marriage is awfully important; + but a man understands these things. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [Joy looks at him. Seeing the impression he has made, he tries again.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I mean, he understands better than a woman. I've often argued about moral + questions with men up at Oxford. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Catching at a straw.] But there's nothing to argue about. + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Hastily.] Of course, I believe in morals. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [They stare solemnly at each other.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Some men don't. But I can't help seeing marriage is awfully important. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Solemnly.] It's sacred. + </p> + <p> + DICK. Yes, I know, but there must be exceptions, Joy. + </p> + <p> + Joy. [Losing herself a little in the stress of this discussion.] How can + there be exceptions if a thing 's sacred? + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Earnestly.] All rules have exceptions; that's true, you know; it's + a proverb. + </p> + <p> + JOY. It can't be true about marriage—how can it when——? + </p> + <p> + DICK. [With intense earnestness.] But look here, Joy, I know a really + clever man—an author. He says that if marriage is a failure people + ought to be perfectly free; it isn't everybody who believes that marriage + is everything. Of course, I believe it 's sacred, but if it's a failure, I + do think it seems awful—don't you? + </p> + <p> + JOY. I don't know—yes—if—[Suddenly] But it's my own + Mother! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Gravely.] I know, of course. I can't expect you to see it in your + own case like this. [With desperation.] But look here, Joy, this'll show + you! If a person loves a person, they have to decide, have n't they? Well, + then, you see, that 's what your Mother's done. + </p> + <p> + JOY. But that does n't show me anything! + </p> + <p> + DICK. But it does. The thing is to look at it as if it was n't yourself. + If it had been you and me in love, Joy, and it was wrong, like them, of + course [ruefully] I know you'd have decided right. [Fiercely.] But I swear + I should have decided wrong. [Triumphantly.] That 's why I feel I + understand your Mother. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Brushing her sleeve across her eyes.] Oh, Dick, you are so sweet—and—and—funny! + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Sliding his arm about her.] I love you, Joy, that 's why, and I 'll + love you till you don't feel it any more. I will. I'll love you all day + and every day; you shan't miss anything, I swear it. It 's such a + beautiful night—it 's on purpose. Look' [JOY looks; he looks at + her.] But it 's not so beautiful as you. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [Bending her head.] You mustn't. I don't know—what's coming? + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Sidling closer.] Are n't your knees tired, darling? I—I can't + get near you properly. + </p> + <p> + JOY. [With a sob.] Oh! Dick, you are a funny—comfort! + </p> + <p> + DICK. We'll stick together, Joy, always; nothing'll matter then. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [They struggle to their feet-the waltz sounds louder.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + You're missing it all! I can't bear you to miss the dancing. It seems so + queer! Couldn't we? Just a little turn? + </p> + <p> + JOY. No, no? + </p> + <p> + DICK. Oh! try! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He takes her gently by the waist, she shrinks back.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [Brokenly.] No-no! Oh! Dick-to-morrow 'll be so awful. + </p> + <p> + DICK. To-morrow shan't hurt you, Joy; nothing shall ever hurt you again. + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She looks at him, and her face changes; suddenly she buries it against + his shoulder.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + [They stand so just a moment in the moon light; then turning to the river + move slowly out of sight. Again the hollow tree is left alone. The music + of the waltz has stopped. The voices of MISS BEECH and the COLONEL are + heard approaching from the house. They appear in the opening of the wall. + The COLONEL carries a pair of field glasses with which to look at the + Moon.] + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Charming to see Molly dance with Lever, their steps go so well + together! I can always tell when a woman's enjoying herself, Peachey. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sharply.] Can you? You're very clever. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. Wonderful, that moon! I'm going to have a look at her! Splendid + glasses these, Peachy [he screws them out], not a better pair in England. + I remember in Burmah with these glasses I used to be able to tell a man + from a woman at two miles and a quarter. And that's no joke, I can tell + you. [But on his way to the moon, he has taken a survey of the earth to + the right along the river. In a low but excited voice] I say, I say—is + it one of the maids—the baggage! Why! It's Dick! By George, she's + got her hair down, Peachey! It's Joy! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [MISS BEECH goes to look. He makes as though to hand the glasses to her, + but puts them to his own eyes instead— excitedly.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + It is! What about her headache? By George, they're kissing. I say, + Peachey! I shall have to tell Nell! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Are you sure they're kissing? Well, that's some comfort. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. They're at the stile now. Oughtn't I to stop them, eh? [He stands + on tiptoe.] We must n't spy on them, dash it all. [He drops the glasses.] + They're out of sight now. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [To herself.] He said he wouldn't let her. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. What! have you been encouraging them! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Don't be in such a hurry! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She moves towards the hollow tree.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [Abstractedly.] By George, Peachey, to think that Nell and I were + once—Poor Nell! I remember just such a night as this— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He stops, and stares before him, sighing.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + MISS BEECH, [Impressively.] It's a comfort she's got that good young man. + She's found out that her mother and this Mr. Lever are—you know. + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Losing all traces of his fussiness, and drawing himself up as + though he were on parade.] You tell me that my niece? + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Out of her own mouth! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Bowing his head.] I never would have believed she'd have + forgotten herself. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Very solemnly.] Ah, my dear! We're all the same; we're all as + hollow as that tree! When it's ourselves it's always a special case! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [The COLONEL makes a movement of distress, and Miss BEECH goes to him.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + Don't you take it so to heart, my dear! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [A silence.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + COLONEL. [Shaking his head.] I couldn't have believed Molly would forget + that child. + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Sadly.] They must go their own ways, poor things! She can't + put herself in the child's place, and the child can't put herself in + Molly's. A woman and a girl—there's the tree of life between them! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Staring into the tree to see indeed if that were the tree + alluded to.] It's a grief to me, Peachey, it's a grief! [He sinks into a + chair, stroking his long moustaches. Then to avenge his hurt.] Shan't tell + Nell—dashed if I do anything to make the trouble worse! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. [Nodding.] There's suffering enough, without adding to it with + our trumpery judgments! If only things would last between them! + </p> + <p> + COLONEL. [Fiercely.] Last! By George, they'd better—— + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He stops, and looking up with a queer sorry look.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + I say, Peachey Life's very funny! + </p> + <p> + MISS BEECH. Men and women are! [Touching his forehead tenderly.] There, + there—take care of your poor, dear head! Tsst! The blessed + innocents! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [She pulls the COLONEL'S sleeve. They slip away towards the house, as + JOY and DICK come back. They are still linked together, and stop by the + hollow tree.] + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + JOY. [In a whisper.] Dick, is love always like this? + </p> + <p> + DICK. [Putting his arms around her, with conviction.] It's never been like + this before. It's you and me! + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + [He kisses her on the lips.] + </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 Project Gutenberg's Joy (First Series Plays), by John Galsworthy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOY (FIRST SERIES PLAYS) *** + +***** This file should be named 2907-h.htm or 2907-htm.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/0/2907/ + +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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