Hobsons Choice | Page 2

had breakfast yet, Maggie?
MAGGIE. Breakfast! With a Masons' meeting last night!
VICKEY. He'll need reviving.
ALICE. Then I wish he'd go and do it.
VICKEY. Are you expecting anyone, Alice?
ALICE. Yes, I am, and you know I am, and I'll thank you both to go when he comes.
VICKEY. Well, I'll oblige you, Alice, if father's gone out first, only you know I can't leave the counter till he goes.
(ALBERT PROSSER enters from the street. He is twenty-six, nicely dressed, as the son of an established solicitor would be. He crosses to R. and raises his hat to ALICE.)
ALBERT. Good morning, Miss Alice.
ALICE. Good morning, Mr. Prosser. (She leans across counter.) Father's not gone out yet. He's late.
ALBERT. Oh! (He turns to go, and is half-way to door, when MAGGIE rises.)
MAGGIE (coming C.). What can we do for you, Mr. Prosser?
ALBERT (stopping). Well, I can't say that I came in to buy anything, Miss Hobson.
MAGGIE. This is a shop, you know. We're not here to let people go out without buying.
ALBERT. Well, I'll just have a pair of bootlaces, please. (Moves slightly to R.)
MAGGIE. What size do you take in boots?
ALBERT. Eights. I've got small feet. (He simpers, then perceives that MAGGIE is by no means smiling.) Does that matter to the laces?
MAGGIE (putting mat in front of arm-chair R. C.) It matters to the boots. (She pushes him slightly.) Sit down, Mr. Prosser.
ALBERT (sitting in arm-chair R. C.) Yes, but--
(MAGGIE is on her knees and takes off his boot.)
MAGGIE. It's time you had a new pair. These uppers are disgraceful for a professional man to wear. Number eights from the third rack, Vickey, please.
ALICE (moving down a little). Mr. Prosser didn't come in to buy boots, Maggie.
(VICKEY comes down to MAGGIE with box which she opens.)
MAGGIE. I wonder what does bring him in here so often!
(ALICE moves back to behind counter.)
ALBERT. I'm terrible hard on bootlaces, Miss Hobson.
(MAGGIE puts a new boot on him and laces it.)
MAGGIE. Do you get through a pair a day? You must be strong.
ALBERT. I keep a little stock of them. It's as well to be prepared for accidents.
MAGGIE. And now you'll have boots to go with the laces, Mr. Prosser. How does that feel?
ALBERT. Very comfortable.
MAGGIE. Try it standing up.
ALBERT (trying and walking a few steps). Yes, that fits all right.
MAGGIE. I'll put the other on.
ALBERT. Oh no, I really don't want to buy them.
MAGGIE (pushing him). Sit down, Mr. Prosser. You can't go through the streets in odd boots.
(ALICE comes down again.)
ALBERT. What's the price of these?
MAGGIE. A pound.
ALBERT. A pound! I say--
MAGGIE. They're good boots, and you don't need to buy a pair of laces to-day, because we give them in as discount. (VICKEY goes back to counter.) Braid laces, that is. Of course, if you want leather ones, you being so strong in the arm and breaking so many pairs, you can have them, only it's tuppence more.
ALBERT. These--these will do.
MAGGIE. Very well, you'd better have the old pair mended and I'll send them home to you with the bill. (She has laced the second boot, rises, and moves towards desk L., throwing the boot box at VICKEY, who gives a little scream at the interruption of her reading. ALBERT gasps.)
ALBERT. Well, if anyone had told me I was coming in here to spend a pound I'd have called him crazy.
MAGGIE. It's not wasted. Those boots will last. Good morning, Mr. Prosser. (She holds door open.)
ALBERT. Good morning. (He looks blankly at ALICE and goes out.)
ALICE. Maggie, we know you're a pushing sales-woman, but--
MAGGIE (returning to R. she picks up old boots and puts them on rack up R.). It'll teach him to keep out of here a bit. He's too much time on his hands.
ALICE. You know why he comes.
MAGGIE. I know it's time he paid a rent for coming. A pair of laces a day's not half enough. Coming here to make sheep's eyes at you. I'm sick of the sight of him. (Crosses in front of counter to L.)
ALICE. It's all very well for an old maid like you to talk, but if father won't have us go courting, where else can Albert meet me except here when father's out?
MAGGIE. If he wants to marry you why doesn't he do it?
ALICE. Courting must come first.
MAGGIE. It needn't. (She picks up a slipper on desk L.). See that slipper with a fancy buckle on to make it pretty? Courting's like that, my lass. All glitter and no use to nobody. (She replaces slipper and sits at her desk.)
(HENRY HORATIO HOBSON enters from the house. He is fifty-five, successful, coarse, florid, and a parent of the period. His hat is on. It is one of those felt hats which are half-way to tall hats in shape. He has a heavy gold chain and