The Mob | Page 7

dominion on a race that has always

been free, that loves its country, and its independence, as much as ever
we love ours. I cannot sit silent to-night and see this begin. As we are
tender of our own land, so we should be of the lands of others. I love
my country. It is because I love my country that I raise my voice.
Warlike in spirit these people may be--but they have no chance against
ourselves. And war on such, however agreeable to the blind moment, is
odious to the future. The great heart of mankind ever beats in sense and
sympathy with the weaker. It is against this great heart of mankind that
we are going. In the name of Justice and Civilization we pursue this
policy; but by Justice we shall hereafter be judged, and by
Civilization--condemned.
While he is speaking, a little figure has flown along the terrace outside,
in the direction of the music, but has stopped at the sound of his voice,
and stands in the open window, listening--a dark-haired, dark-eyed
child, in a blue dressing- gown caught up in her hand. The street
musicians, having reached the end of a tune, are silent.
In the intensity of MORES feeling, a wine-glass, gripped too strongly,
breaks and falls in pieces onto a finger-bowl. The child starts forward
into the room.
MORE. Olive!
OLIVE. Who were you speaking to, Daddy?
MORE. [Staring at her] The wind, sweetheart!
OLIVE. There isn't any!
MORE. What blew you down, then?
OLIVE. [Mysteriously] The music. Did the wind break the wine- glass,
or did it come in two in your hand?
MORE. Now my sprite! Upstairs again, before Nurse catches you. Fly!
Fly!
OLIVE. Oh! no, Daddy! [With confidential fervour] It feels like things
to-night!
MORE. You're right there!
OLIVE. [Pulling him down to her, and whispering] I must get back
again in secret. H'sh!
She suddenly runs and wraps herself into one of the curtains of the bay
window. A young man enters, with a note in his hand.
MORE. Hello, Steel!
[The street musicians have again begun to play.]

STEEL. From Sir John--by special messenger from the War Office.
MORE. [Reading the note] "The ball is opened."
He stands brooding over the note, and STEEL looks at him anxiously.
He is a dark, sallow, thin-faced young man, with the eyes of one who
can attach himself to people, and suffer with them.
STEEL. I'm glad it's begun, sir. It would have been an awful pity to
have made that speech.
MORE. You too, Steel!
STEEL. I mean, if it's actually started----
MORE. [Tearing tie note across] Yes. Keep that to yourself.
STEEL. Do you want me any more?
MORE takes from his breast pocket some papers, and pitches them
down on the bureau.
MORE. Answer these.
STEEL. [Going to the bureau] Fetherby was simply sickening. [He
begins to write. Struggle has begun again in MORE] Not the faintest
recognition that there are two sides to it.
MORE gives him a quick look, goes quietly to the dining-table and
picks up his sheaf of notes. Hiding them with his sleeve, he goes back
to the window, where he again stands hesitating.
STEEL. Chief gem: [Imitating] "We must show Impudence at last that
Dignity is not asleep!"
MORE. [Moving out on to the terrace] Nice quiet night!
STEEL. This to the Cottage Hospital--shall I say you will preside?
MORE. No.
STEEL writes; then looking up and seeing that MORE is no longer
there, he goes to the window, looks to right and left, returns to the
bureau, and is about to sit down again when a thought seems to strike
him with consternation. He goes again to the window. Then snatching
up his hat, he passes hurriedly out along the terrace. As he vanishes,
KATHERINE comes in from the hall. After looking out on to the
terrace she goes to the bay window; stands there listening; then comes
restlessly back into the room. OLIVE, creeping quietly from behind the
curtain, clasps her round the waist.
KATHERINE. O my darling! How you startled me! What are you
doing down here, you wicked little sinner!
OLIVE. I explained all that to Daddy. We needn't go into it again, need

we?
KATHERINE. Where is Daddy?
OLIVE. Gone.
KATHERINE. When?
OLIVE. Oh! only just, and Mr. Steel went after him like a rabbit. [The
music stops] They haven't been paid, you know.
KATHERINE. Now, go up at once. I can't think how you got down
here.
OLIVE. I can. [Wheedling] If you pay them, Mummy, they're sure to
play another.
KATHERINE. Well, give them that! One more only.
She gives OLIVE a coin, who runs with it to the bay window, opens the
aide casement, and calls to the musicians.
OLIVE. Catch, please! And would