Fannys First Play | Page 9

thing. This is a b--
MRS GILBEY. [cutting him short] Leave it at that, please. Whatever it
is, bad language wont make it better.
GILBEY. [bitterly] Yes, put me in the wrong as usual. Take your boy's
part against me. [He flings himself into the empty chair opposite her].
MRS GILBEY. When he does anything right, hes your son. When he
does anything wrong hes mine. Have you any news of him?
GILBEY. Ive a good mind not to tell you.
MRS GILBEY. Then dont. I suppose hes been found. Thats a comfort,
at all events.
GILBEY. No, he hasnt been found. The boy may be at the bottom of
the river for all you care. [Too agitated to sit quietly, he rises and paces
the room distractedly].
MRS GILBEY. Then what have you got in your hand?
GILBEY. Ive a letter from the Monsignor Grenfell. From New York.
Dropping us. Cutting us. [Turning fiercely on her] Thats a nice thing,
isnt it?
MRS GILBEY. What for?
GILBEY. [flinging away towards his chair] How do I know what for?
MRS GILBEY. What does he say?
GILBEY. [sitting down and grumblingly adjusting his spectacles] This
is what he says. "My dear Mr Gilbey: The news about Bobby had to

follow me across the Atlantic: it did not reach me until to-day. I am
afraid he is incorrigible. My brother, as you may imagine, feels that this
last escapade has gone beyond the bounds; and I think, myself, that
Bobby ought to be made to feel that such scrapes involve a certain
degree of reprobation." "As you may imagine"! And we know no more
about it than the babe unborn.
MRS GILBEY. What else does he say?
GILBEY. "I think my brother must have been just a little to blame
himself; so, between ourselves, I shall, with due and impressive
formality, forgive Bobby later on; but for the present I think it had
better be understood that he is in disgrace, and that we are no longer on
visiting terms. As ever, yours sincerely." [His agitation masters him
again] Thats a nice slap in the face to get from a man in his position!
This is what your son has brought on me.
MRS GILBEY. Well, I think it's rather a nice letter. He as good as tells
you hes only letting on to be offended for Bobby's good.
GILBEY. Oh, very well: have the letter framed and hang it up over the
mantelpiece as a testimonial.
MRS GILBEY. Dont talk nonsense, Rob. You ought to be thankful to
know that the boy is alive after his disappearing like that for nearly a
week.
GILBEY. Nearly a week! A fortnight, you mean. Wheres your feelings,
woman? It was fourteen days yesterday.
MRS GILBEY. Oh, dont call it fourteen days, Rob, as if the boy was in
prison.
GILBEY. How do you know hes not in prison? It's got on my nerves so,
that I'd believe even that.
MRS GILBEY. Dont talk silly, Rob. Bobby might get into a scrape like
any other lad; but he'd never do anything low.

_Juggins, the footman, comes in with a card on a salver. He is a rather
low-spirited man of thirty-five or more, of good appearance and
address, and iron self-command._
JUGGINS. [presenting the salver to Mr Gilbey] Lady wishes to see Mr
Bobby's parents, sir.
GILBEY. [pointing to Mrs Gilbey] Theres Mr Bobby's parent. I disown
him.
JUGGINS. Yes, sir. [He presents the salver to Mrs Gilbey].
MRS GILBEY. You mustnt mind what your master says, Juggins: he
doesnt mean it. [She takes the card and reads it]. Well, I never!
GILBEY. Whats up now?
MRS GILBEY. [reading] "Miss D. Delaney. Darling Dora." Just like
that--in brackets. What sort of person, Juggins?
GILBEY. Whats her address?
MRS GILBEY. The West Circular Road. Is that a respectable address,
Juggins?
JUGGINS. A great many most respectable people live in the West
Circular Road, madam; but the address is not a guarantee of
respectability.
GILBEY. So it's come to that with him, has it?
MRS GILBEY. Dont jump to conclusions, Rob. How do you know?
[To Juggins] Is she a lady, Juggins? You know what I mean.
JUGGINS. In the sense in which you are using the word, no, madam.
MRS GILBEY. I'd better try what I can get out of her. [To Juggins]
Shew her up. You dont mind, do you, Rob?

GILBEY. So long as you dont flounce out and leave me alone with her.
[He rises and plants himself on the hearth-rug].
Juggins goes out.
MRS GILBEY. I wonder what she wants, Rob?
GILBEY. If she wants money, she shant have it. Not a farthing. A nice
thing, everybody seeing her on our doorstep! If it wasnt that she may
tell us something about the lad, I'd