Plays : Second Series. Galsworthy John

MABEL are left alone.]

      MABEL. [Mockingly] And don't you want one of the spaniel pups?

      BILL. [Painfully reserved and sullen, and conscious of the workroom door] Can't keep a dog in town. You can have one, if you like. The breeding's all right.

      MABEL. Sixth Pick?

      BILL. The girls'll give you one of theirs. They only fancy they want 'em.

      Mann. [Moving nearer to him, with her hands clasped behind her] You know, you remind me awfully of your father. Except that you're not nearly so polite. I don't understand you English-lords of the soil. The way you have of disposing of your females. [With a sudden change of voice] What was the matter with you last night? [Softly] Won't you tell me?

      BILL. Nothing to tell.

      MABEL. Ah! no, Mr. Bill.

      BILL. [Almost succumbing to her voice—then sullenly] Worried, I suppose.

      MABEL. [Returning to her mocking] Quite got over it?

      BILL. Don't chaff me, please.

      MABEL. You really are rather formidable.

      BILL. Thanks.

      MABEL, But, you know, I love to cross a field where there's a bull.

      BILL. Really! Very interesting.

      MABEL. The way of their only seeing one thing at a time. [She moves back as he advances] And overturning people on the journey.

      BILL. Hadn't you better be a little careful?

      MABEL. And never to see the hedge until they're stuck in it. And then straight from that hedge into the opposite one.

      BILL. [Savagely] What makes you bait me this morning of all mornings?

      MABEL. The beautiful morning! [Suddenly] It must be dull for poor Freda working in there with all this fun going on?

      BILL. [Glancing at the door] Fun you call it?

      MABEL, To go back to you,—now—Mr. Cheshire.

      BILL. No.

      MABEL, You always make me feel so Irish. Is it because you're so English, d'you think? Ah! I can see him moving his ears. Now he's pawing the ground—He's started!

      BILL. Miss Lanfarne!

      MABEL. [Still backing away from him, and drawing him on with her eyes and smile] You can't help coming after me! [Then with a sudden change to a sort of sierra gravity] Can you? You'll feel that when I've gone.

      They stand quite still, looking into each other's eyes and FREDA, who has opened the door of the workroom stares at them.

      MABEL. [Seeing her] Here's the stile. Adieu, Monsieur le taureau!

      She puts her hand behind her, opens the door, and slips through, leaving BILL to turn, following the direction of her eyes, and see FREDA with the cloak still in her hand.

      BILL. [Slowly walking towards her] I haven't slept all night.

      FREDA. No?

      BILL. Have you been thinking it over? [FREDA gives a bitter little laugh.]

      BILL. Don't! We must make a plan. I'll get you away. I won't let you suffer. I swear I won't.

      FREDA. That will be clever.

      BILL. I wish to Heaven my affairs weren't in such a mess.

      FREDA. I shall be—all—right, thank you.

      BILL. You must think me a blackguard. [She shakes her head] Abuse me—say something! Don't look like that!

      FREDA. Were you ever really fond of me?

      BILL. Of course I was, I am now. Give me your hands.

      She looks at him, then drags her hands from his, and covers her face.

      BILL. [Clenching his fists] Look here! I'll prove it. [Then as she suddenly flings her arms round his neck and clings to him] There, there!

      There is a click of a door handle. They start away from each other, and see LADY CHESHIRE regarding them.

      LADY CHESHIRE. [Without irony] I beg your pardon.

      She makes as if to withdraw from an unwarranted intrusion, but suddenly turning, stands, with lips pressed together, waiting.

      LADY CHESHIRE. Yes?

      FREDA has muffled her face. But BILL turns and confronts his mother.

      BILL. Don't say anything against her!

      LADY CHESHIRE. [Tries to speak to him and fails—then to FREDA] Please-go!

      BILL. [Taking FREDA's arm] No.

      LADY CHESHIRE, after a moment's hesitation, herself moves towards the door.

      BILL. Stop, mother!

      LADY CHESHIRE. I think perhaps not.

      BILL. [Looking at FREDA, who is cowering as though from a blow] It's a d–d shame!

      LADY CHESHIRE. It is.

      BILL. [With sudden resolution] It's not as you think. I'm engaged to be married to her.

      [FREDA gives him a wild stare, and turns away.]

      LADY CHESHIRE. [Looking from one to the other] I don't think I—quite—understand.

      BILL. [With the brutality of his mortification] What I said was plain enough.

      LADY CHESHIRE. Bill!

      BILL. I tell you I am going to marry her.

      LADY CHESHIRE. [To FREDA] Is that true?

      [FREDA gulps and remains silent.]

      BILL. If you want to say anything, say it to me, mother.

      LADY CHESHIRE. [Gripping the edge of a little table] Give me a chair, please. [BILL gives her a chair.]

      LADY CHESHIRE. [To FREDA] Please sit down too.

      FREDA sits on the piano stool, still turning her face away.

      LADY CHESHIRE. [Fixing her eyes on FREDA] Now!

      BILL. I fell in love with her. And she with me.

      LADY CHESHIRE. When?

      BILL. In the summer.

      LADY CHESHIRE. Ah!

      BILL. It wasn't her fault.

      LADY CHESHIRE. No?

      BILL. [With a sort of menace] Mother!

      LADY CHESHIRE. Forgive me, I am not quite used to the idea. You say that you—are engaged?

      BILL. Yes.

      LADY CHESHIRE. The reasons against such an engagement have occurred to you, I suppose? [With a sudden change of tone] Bill! what does it mean?

      BILL. If you think she's trapped me into this–

      LADY CHESHIRE. I do not. Neither do I think she has been trapped. I think nothing. I understand nothing.

      BILL. [Grimly] Good!

      LADY CHESHIRE. How long has this-engagement lasted?

      BILL. [After a silence] Two months.

      LADY CHESHIRE. [Suddenly] This is-this is quite impossible.

      BILL. You'll find it isn't.

      LADY CHESHIRE. It's simple misery.

      BILL. [Pointing to the workroom] Go and wait in there, Freda.

      LADY CHESHIRE. [Quickly] And are you still in love with her?

      FREDA, moving towards the workroom, smothers a sob.

      BILL. Of course I am.

      FREDA has gone, and as she goes, LADY CHESHIRE rises suddenly, forced by the intense feeling she has been keeping in hand.

      LADY CHESHIRE. Bill! Oh, Bill! What does it all mean? [BILL, looking from side to aide, only shrugs his shoulders] You are not in love with her now. It's no good telling me you are.

      BILL.