The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith | Page 4

take you in my gondola.
LUCAS. Thanks--delighted.
AGNES. [To SIR GEORGE.] I would rather Lucas went in the house
gondola; I know its cushions are dry. May he take you to the Piazetta?
SIR GEORGE. [A little stiffly.] Certainly.
AGNES. [To FORTUNE.] Mettez les coussins dans la gondole.
FORTUNE. Bien, madame.
[FORTUNE goes out. AGNES begins to measure a dose of medicine.]
SIR GEORGE. [To AGNES.] Er--I--ah--

LUCAS. [Putting on his gloves.] Agnes, Sir George--
AGNES. [Turning to SIR GEORGE, the bottle and glass in her hands.]
Yes?
SIR GEORGE. [Constrainedly.] We always make a point of
acknowledging the importance of nursing as an aid to medical
treatment. I--I am sure Mr. Cleeve owes you much in that respect.
AGNES. Thank you.
SIR GEORGE. [To LUCAS.] I have to discharge my gondola; you'll
find me at the steps, Cleeve. [AGNES shifts the medicine bottle from
one hand to the other so that her right hand may be free, but SIR
GEORGE simply bows in a formal way and moves towards the door.]
You are coming with us, Kirke?
KIRKE. Yes.
SIR GEORGE. Do you mind seeing that I'm not robbed by my
gondolier? [He goes out.]
AGNES. [Giving the medicine to LUCAS, undisturbed.] Here, dear.
KIRKE. [To AGNES.] May I pop in tonight for my game of chess?
AGNES. Do, doctor; I shall be very pleased.
KIRKE. [Shaking her hand in a marked way.] Thank you. [He follows
SIR GEORGE.]
AGNES. [Looking after him.] Liberal little man.
[She has LUCAS' overcoat in her hand: a small pen-and-ink drawing of
a woman's hand drops from one of the pockets. They pick it up
together.]
AGNES. Isn't that the sketch you made of me in Florence?

LUCAS. [Replacing it in the coat-pocket.] Yes.
AGNES. You are carrying it about with you?
LUCAS. I slipped it into my pocket, thinking it might interest the
Duke.
AGNES. [Assisting him with his overcoat.] Surely I am too obnoxious
in the abstract for your uncle to entertain such a detail as a portrait.
LUCAS. It struck me that it might serve to correct certain preconceived
notions of my people's.
AGNES. Images of a beautiful temptress with peach-blossomed cheeks
and stained hair?
LUCAS. That's what I mean; they suspect a decline of taste on my part,
of that sort. Good-bye, dear.
AGNES. Is this mission of the Duke of St Olpherts the final attempt to
part us, I wonder? [Angrily, her voice hardening.] Why should they
harass and disturb you as they do?
LUCAS. [Kissing her.] Nothing disturbs me now that I know I and
strong and well. Besides, everybody will soon tire of being shocked.
Even conventional morality must grow breathless in the chase. [He
leaves her. She opens the other door and calls.]
AGNES. Mrs. Thorpe! I'm alone now. [She goes on to the balcony,
through the centre window, and looks down below. GERTRUDE enters,
and joins her on the balcony.]
GERTRUDE. How well your husband is looking!
AGNES. Sir George Brodrick pronounces him quite recovered.
GERTRUDE. Isn't that splendid! [Waving her hand and calling.] Buon
giorno, Signor Cleeve! Come molto meglio voi state! [Leaving the
balcony, laughing.] Ha, ha! My Italian! [AGNES waves finally to the

gondola below, returns to the room, and slips her arm through
GERTRUDE'S.]
AGNES. Two whole days since I've seen you.
GERTRUDE. They've been two of my bad days, dear.
AGNES. [Looking into her face.] All right now?
GERTRUDE. Oh, "God's in his heaven" this morning! When the sun's
out I feel that my little boy's bed in Ketherick Cemetery is warm and
cosy.
AGNES. [Patting GERTRUDE'S hand] Ah!--
GERTRUDE. The weather's the same all over Europe, according to the
papers. Do you think it's really going to last? To me these chilly,
showery nights are terrible. You know, I still tuck my child up at
night-time; still have my last peep at him before going to my own bed;
and it is awful to listen to these cold rains--drip, drip, upon that little
green coverlet of his! [She goes and stands by the window silently.]
AGNES. This isn't strong of you, dear Mrs. Thorpe. You mustn't--you
mustn't. [AGNES brings the tray with the cut flowers to the nearer table;
calmly and methodically she resumes trimming the stalks.]
GETRUDE. You're quite right. That's over. Now, then, I'm going to
gabble for five minutes gaily. [Settling herself comfortably in an
armchair.] What jolly flowers you've got there! What have you been
doing with yourself? Amos took me to the Caffe Quadri yesterday to
late breakfast, to cheer me up. Oh, I've something to say to you! At the
Caffe, at the next table to ours, there were three English people--two
men and a girl--home from India, I gathered. One of the men was
looking out of the window, quizzing the folks walking in