The First Series Plays | Page 4

keep my work here; I have the three
children, and I don't want him to come about after me in the streets, and
make a disturbance as he sometimes does.
MARLOW. [Holding up the empty decanter.] Not a drain! Next time
he hits you get a witness and go down to the court----

MRS. JONES. Yes, I think I 've made up my mind. I think I ought to.
MARLOW. That's right. Where's the ciga----?
[He searches for the silver box; he looks at MRS. JONES, who is
sweeping on her hands and knees; he checks himself and stands
reflecting. From the tray he picks two half-smoked cigarettes, and reads
the name on them.]
Nestor--where the deuce----?
[With a meditative air he looks again at MRS. JONES, and, taking up
JACK'S overcoat, he searches in the pockets. WHEELER, with a tray
of breakfast things, comes in.]
MARLOW. [Aside to WHEELER.] Have you seen the cigarette-box?
WHEELER. No.
MARLOW. Well, it's gone. I put it on the tray last night. And he's been
smoking. [Showing her the ends of cigarettes.] It's not in these pockets.
He can't have taken it upstairs this morning! Have a good look in his
room when he comes down. Who's been in here?
WHEELER. Only me and Mrs. Jones.
MRS. JONES. I 've finished here; shall I do the drawing-room now?
WHEELER. [Looking at her doubtfully.] Have you seen----Better do
the boudwower first.
[MRS. JONES goes out with pan and brush. MARLOW and
WHEELER look each other in the face.]
MARLOW. It'll turn up.
WHEELER. [Hesitating.] You don't think she---- [Nodding at the
door.]
MARLOW. [Stoutly.] I don't----I never believes anything of anybody.
WHEELER. But the master'll have to be told.
MARLOW. You wait a bit, and see if it don't turn up. Suspicion's no
business of ours. I set my mind against it.
The curtain falls.

The curtain rises again at once.

SCENE III
BARTHWICK and MRS. BARTHWICK are seated at the breakfast
table. He is a man between fifty and sixty; quietly important, with a
bald forehead, and pince-nez, and the "Times" in his hand. She is a lady

of nearly fifty, well dressed, with greyish hair, good features, and a
decided manner. They face each other.
BARTHWICK. [From behind his paper.] The Labour man has got in at
the by-election for Barnside, my dear.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Another Labour? I can't think what on earth the
country is about.
BARTHWICK. I predicted it. It's not a matter of vast importance.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Not? How can you take it so calmly, John? To
me it's simply outrageous. And there you sit, you Liberals, and pretend
to encourage these people!
BARTHWICK. [Frowning.] The representation of all parties is
necessary for any proper reform, for any proper social policy.
MRS. BARTHWICK. I've no patience with your talk of reform--all that
nonsense about social policy. We know perfectly well what it is they
want; they want things for themselves. Those Socialists and Labour
men are an absolutely selfish set of people. They have no sense of
patriotism, like the upper classes; they simply want what we've got.
BARTHWICK. Want what we've got! [He stares into space.] My dear,
what are you talking about? [With a contortion.] I 'm no alarmist.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Cream? Quite uneducated men! Wait until they
begin to tax our investments. I 'm convinced that when they once get a
chance they will tax everything--they 've no feeling for the country.
You Liberals and Conservatives, you 're all alike; you don't see an inch
before your noses. You've no imagination, not a scrap of imagination
between you. You ought to join hands and nip it in the bud.
BARTHWICK. You 're talking nonsense! How is it possible for
Liberals and Conservatives to join hands, as you call it? That shows
how absurd it is for women----Why, the very essence of a Liberal is to
trust in the people!
MRS. BARTHWICK. Now, John, eat your breakfast. As if there were
any real difference between you and the Conservatives. All the upper
classes have the same interests to protect, and the same principles.
[Calmly.] Oh! you're sitting upon a volcano, John.
BARTHWICK. What!
MRS. BARTHWICK. I read a letter in the paper yesterday. I forget the
man's name, but it made the whole thing perfectly clear. You don't look
things in the face.

BARTHWICK. Indeed! [Heavily.] I am a Liberal! Drop the subject,
please!
MRS. BARTHWICK. Toast? I quite agree with what this man says:
Education is simply ruining the lower classes. It unsettles them, and
that's the worst thing for us all. I see an enormous difference in the
manner of servants.
BARTHWICK, [With suspicious emphasis.] I welcome any change
that will lead to something better. [He opens a letter.] H'm! This is that
affair of Master