Bodies from the Library 3. Группа авторов

here to continue your spying, eh?

      ROGERS: Oh no, sir. I’m on protection duty—looking after Sir Julius.

      ROBERT: Protection! He needs it! I can tell you, when our movement comes into power, fellows like you will be out of a job.

      ROGERS: Oh no, sir. That’s what Sir Julius’s crowd used to say. You’ll want protection just the same. They all do.

      BRIGGS: Excuse me, sir. Mr Rogers, your tea is awaiting you in the housekeeper’s room.

      ROGERS: Thank you, Mr Briggs. I’ll go now.

      (He is heard to walk away)

      BRIGGS: Pardon me, Mr Robert. May I have a word with you?

      ROBERT: Yes, if you must, Briggs.

      BRIGGS: If you wouldn’t mind stepping into the smoking-room, sir.

      (Sound of steps and door closing)

      ROBERT: Well?

      BRIGGS: My daughter Susan, sir, is wondering—

      ROBERT: Look here, Briggs, what on earth is the good of bringing up this business again now? You know what the position is as well as I do. I have promised you before and I can promise you now—

      BRIGGS: Promises are all very well, Mr Robert, but that was some time ago and Christmas is upon us.

      ROBERT: Yes, Christmas, with my father dangerously ill and the house full of people. It’s utterly unreasonable to expect me to do anything now, Briggs. Things must go on as they are for the time being. After all, Susan isn’t here and—

      BRIGGS: Susan is here, Mr Robert.

      ROBERT: Here! Of all the infernal cheek! What do you mean by doing such a thing, Briggs?

      BRIGGS: Well, sir, Christmas is the season for family reunions—even for butlers.

      ROBERT: Confound you! I suppose you thought this was a way of applying a little extra pressure?

      BRIGGS: I trust that may not be necessary, sir. I—we—are relying on you to act like a gentleman.

      (Bell rings)

      Excuse me, I think that is his lordship’s bell.

      (Sound of door opening)

      I beg your ladyship’s pardon, I didn’t see you coming in.

      CAMILLA: Oh, Briggs, Lord Warbeck wants you to help him up to bed. He is rather tired.

      BRIGGS: Very good, my lady.

      (Sound of door closing)

      ROBERT: I don’t wonder father’s tired if he’s been listening to Mrs Barrett and Julius discussing the sugar duties.

      CAMILLA: He managed to stand it longer than you, Robert, at any rate. Well, did the great discussion with Briggs go off satisfactorily?

      ROBERT: Discussion, Camilla? What should we have a discussion about?

      CAMILLA: About the wine for dinner tonight. I thought it was that that dragged you away from tea so reluctantly.

      ROBERT: Oh, the wine! Yes, that’s—that’s laid on all right.

      CAMILLA: I hope there’s plenty. I mean to drink a lot tonight. I mean to get positively, completely blotto.

      ROBERT: That will add enormously to your attractions.

      CAMILLA: Well, they want adding to, don’t they? I mean, they don’t seem to have been very effective so far. (Pause) Robert, what is the matter with you?

      ROBERT: Nothing, so far as I am aware.

      CAMILLA: There is something, Robert. I wish you’d tell me. Can’t you see I—I want to help you?

      ROBERT: No thanks.

      CAMILLA: Robert, you usen’t to be like this. Something’s happened. Something’s come between us. I can’t let you go like this. Look at me, Robert!

      ROBERT: Leave go of me, Camilla! I warn you, leave go!

      CAMILLA: Not until you’ve told me what it is. It’s not too much to ask, to share your troubles, is it? Oh, Robert, if you only knew how I want—

      ROBERT: (brutally) You want, you want! I know what you want, even if you don’t!

      CAMILLA: You’re hurting me!

      ROBERT: You want to be kissed—like this! (Pause) And this—and this! That’s all for now, my lovely! I hope you’re satisfied.

      CAMILLA: Oh, you’re hateful! hateful! I could kill you for this!

      (Door closes with a bang)

      NARRATOR: It is shortly before midnight. Sir Julius Warbeck, Mrs Barrett, Robert and Lady Camilla are in the drawing-room. All four have evidently dined well. Their faces are rather flushed and `Lord Warbeck’s excellent champagne has loosened their tongues. They have just finished a rubber of bridge and Sir Julius is adding up the scores.

      (Chatter)

      JULIUS: Let me see … Eight and six is fourteen, and carry one … That makes one pound four and five pence they owe us, Mrs Barrett. My congratulations!

      MRS BARRETT: I’m sure you’ve added that up wrong! Give it to me. Seven and four’s eleven, and ten’s twenty-one—I told you so, it should be one pound four and ninepence! A pretty sort of Chancellor of the Exchequer you are!

      JULIUS: (laughs) Well, well, one needn’t be a dab at arithmetic to handle the state’s finances, thank heaven! There was a Chancellor once who didn’t know what decimal points were, and when he saw them—

      MRS BARRETT: Yes, yes, Sir Julius, we all know that story. It’s been the stock excuse of inefficient Chancellors ever since.

      JULIUS: Are you suggesting that I am inefficient, Mrs Barrett?

      MRS BARRETT: Oh no! I’m not suggesting anything.

      JULIUS: Because if so, I was only going to say, that doesn’t seem to be the view of that very loyal collaborator and colleague, your husband.

      MRS BARRETT: My husband is loyal, Sir Julius—too loyal, I sometimes think, to consider his own interests. But since his name has been introduced into the discussion, may I say that I am sure I am not alone in regretting that the country’s finances are not in his hands, instead of—

      JULIUS: Instead of those of your humble servant, eh, Mrs Barrett? Well, well, it’s all in the luck of the game. I can only say this, that should anything happen to our revered Prime Minister—which Heaven forfend—and it were to fall to me to form an administration, as it might—as it might—I should not need to look for my Chancellor beyond my old friend John Barrett.

      ROBERT: (somewhat tipsy) Hear, hear, Julius! Hear, hear!

      CAMILLA: Did you say one pound four and ninepence, Mrs Barrett? I’ve got it here exactly.

      (Chink of coins)

      MRS BARRETT: How honourable of you!

      ROBERT: Afraid I haven’t any cash on me, Julius. It’s a commodity rather scarce in this branch of the family. Will you take a cheque?

      JULIUS: Of course, my dear boy, of course.

      ROBERT: All right, I’ll give you one. You don’t mind it’s being drawn on the account of the League of Liberty and Justice, I suppose?

      JULIUS: Really, this is an outrage! To suggest that I should take money from such a gang! Let me tell you, young man, your association with this so-called League is putting you in danger—in grave danger.

      ROBERT: Thanks for the warning, dear cousin. At any rate, I don’t need a flat-footed copper to give me protection. Where is he, by the way? Lurking outside the door, I suppose, with his