THE FOURTH ACT

The hall at Markswayde is square; in decoration strictly eighteenth century. The floor polished. Then comes six feet of soberly painted wainscot and above the greenish blue and yellowish green wall painted into panels. At intervals are low relief pilasters; the capitals of these are gilded. The ceiling is white and in the centre of it there is a frosted glass dome through which a dull light struggles. Two sides only of the hall are seen.

In the corner is a hat stand and on it are many cloaks and hats and beneath it several pairs of very muddy boots.

In the middle of the left hand wall are the double doors of the dining-room led up to by three or four stairs with balusters, and on either side standing against the wall long, formal, straight backed sofas.

In the middle of the right hand wall is the front door; glass double doors can be seen and there is evidently a porch beyond. On the left of the front door a small window. On the right a large fireplace, in which a large fire is roaring. Over the front door, a clock (the hands pointing to half-past one.) Over the fireplace a family portrait (temp. Queen Anne) below this a blunderbuss and several horse-pistols. Above the sofa full-length family portraits (temp. George I.) Before the front door a wooden screen, of lighter wood than the wainscot, and in the middle of it a small glass panel. Before this a heavy square table on which are whips and sticks, a hat or two and brushes; by the table a wooden chair. On either side the fire stand tall closed-in armchairs, and between the fireplace and the door a smaller red-baize screen.

When the dining-room doors are thrown open another wooden screen is to be seen.

There are a few rugs on the floor, formally arranged.

mrs. opie stands in the middle of the hall, holding out a woman's brown cloak: she drops one side to fetch out her handkerchief and apply it to her eye. dimmuck comes in by the front door, which he carefully closes behind him. He is wrapped in a hooded cloak and carries a pair of boots and a newspaper. The boots he arranges to warm before the fire. Then he spreads the Chronicle newspaper upon the arm of a chair, then takes off his cloak and hangs it upon a peg close to the door.

dimmuck. Mrs. Opie . . will you look to its not scorching?

mrs. opie still mops her eyes. dimmuck goes towards the dining-room door, but turns.

dimmuck. Will you kindly see that the Chronicle newspaper does not burn?

mrs. opie. I was crying.

dimmuck. I leave this tomorrow sennight . . thankful, ma'am, to have given notice in a dignified manner.

mrs. opie. I understand . . Those persons at table . .

dimmuck. You give notice.

mrs. opie. Mr. Dimmuck, this is my home.

lord arthur carp comes out of the dining-room. He is a thinner and more earnest-looking edition of his brother. mrs. opie turns a chair and hangs the cloak to warm before the fire, and then goes into the dining-room.

lord arthur. My chaise round?

dimmuck. I've but just ordered it, my lord. Your lordship's man has give me your boots.

lord arthur. Does it snow?

dimmuck. Rather rain than snow.

lord arthur takes up the newspaper.

dimmuck. Yesterday's, my lord.

lord arthur. I've seen it. The mails don't hurry hereabouts. Can I be in London by the morning?

dimmuck. I should say you might be, my lord.

lord arthur sits by the fire, while dimmuck takes off his pumps and starts to put on his boots.

lord arthur. Is this a horse called "Ronald?"

dimmuck. Which horse, my lord?

lord arthur. Which I'm to take back with me . . my brother left here. I brought the mare he borrowed.

dimmuck. I remember, my lord. I'll enquire.

lord arthur. Tell Parker . .

dimmuck. Your lordship's man?

lord arthur. . . he'd better ride the beast.

sarah comes out of the dining-room. He stands up; one boot, one shoe.

sarah. Please put on the other.

lord arthur. Thank you . . I am in haste.

sarah. To depart before the bride's departure.

lord arthur. Does the bride go with the bridegroom?

sarah. She goes away.

lord arthur. I shall never see such a thing again.

sarah. I think this entertainment is unique.

lord arthur. Any commissions in town?

sarah. Why can't you stay to travel with us tomorrow and talk business to Papa by the way?

dimmuck carrying the pumps and after putting on his cloak goes out through the front door. When it is closed, her voice changes.

sarah. Why . . Arthur?

He does not answer. Then mrs. opie comes out of the dining-room to fetch the cloak. The two, with an effort, reconstruct their casual disjointed conversation.

sarah. . . Before the bride's departure?

lord arthur. Does the bride go away with the bridegroom?

sarah. She goes.

lord arthur. I shall never see such an entertainment again.

sarah. We are quite unique.

lord arthur. Any commissions in town?

sarah. Is she to go soon too, Mrs. Opie?

mrs. opie. It is arranged they are to walk . . in this weather . . ten miles . . to the house.

sarah. Cottage.

mrs. opie. Hut.

mrs. opie takes the cloak into the dining-room. Then sarah comes a little towards lord arthur, but waits for him to speak.

lord arthur. [A little awkwardly.] You are not looking well.

sarah. To our memory . . and beyond your little chat with my husband about me . . I want to speak an epitaph.

lord arthur. Charlie Cottesham behaved most honourably.

sarah. And I think you did. Why have you not let me tell you so in your ear till now, to-day?

lord arthur. Sarah . . we had a narrow escape from. . .

sarah. How's your wife?

lord arthur. Well . . thank you.

sarah. Nervous, surely, at your travelling in winter?

lord arthur. I was so glad to receive a casual invitation from you and to come . . casually.

sarah. Fifty miles.

lord arthur. Your father has been ill?

sarah. Very ill through the autumn.

lord arthur. Do you think he suspects us?

sarah. I shouldn't care to peep into Papa's innermost mind. You are to be very useful to him.

lord arthur. No.

sarah. Then he'll go back to the government.

lord arthur. If he pleases . . if they please . . if you please.

sarah. I am not going back to my husband. Arthur . . be useful to him.

lord arthur. No . . you are not coming to me. Always your father! [After a moment.] It was my little home in the country somehow said aloud you didn't care for me.

sarah. I fooled you to small purpose.

lord arthur. I wish you had once made friends with my wife.

sarah. If we . . this house I'm speaking of . . had made friends where we've only made tools and fools we shouldn't now be cursed as we are . . all. George, who is a cork, trying to sink socially. Ann is mad . . and a runaway.

lord arthur. Sarah, I've been devilish fond of you.

sarah. Be useful to Papa. [He shakes his head, obstinately.] Praise me a little. Haven't I worked my best for my family?

lord arthur. Suppose I could be useful to him now, would you, in spite of all, come to me . . no half measures?

sarah. Arthur . . [He makes a little passionate movement towards her, but she is cold.] It's time for me to vanish from this world, because I've nothing left to sell.

lord arthur. I can't help him. I don't want you.

He turns away.

sarah. I feel I've done my best.

lord arthur. Keep your father quiet.

sarah. I mean to leave him.

lord arthur. What does he say to that?

sarah. I've not yet told him.

lord arthur. What happens?

sarah. To sell my jewels . . spoils of a ten years' war. Three thousand pound . . how much a year?

lord arthur. I'll buy them.

sarah. And return them? You have almost the right to make such a suggestion.

lord arthur. Stick to your father. He'll care for you?

sarah. No . . we all pride ourselves on our lack of sentiment.

lord arthur. You must take money from your husband.

sarah. I have earned that and spent it.

lord arthur. [Yielding once again to temptation.] I'm devilish fond of you . . .

At that moment abud comes out of the dining-room. He is dressed in his best. sarah responds readily to the interruption.

sarah. And you must give my kindest compliments to Lady Arthur and my . . affectionately . . to the children and I'll let Papa know that you're going.

lord arthur. Letters under cover to your father?

sarah. Papa will stay in town through the session of course . . but they all tell me that seventy-five pounds a year is a comfortable income in . . Timbuctoo.

She goes into the dining-room. abud has selected his boots from the corner and now stands with them in his hand looking rather helpless. After a moment—

lord arthur. I congratulate you, Mr. Abud.

abud. My lord . . I can't speak of myself.

carnaby comes out of the dining-room. He is evidently by no means recovered from his illness. He stands for a moment with an ironical eye on john abud.

carnaby. Son-in-law.

abud. I'm told to get on my boots, sir.

carnaby. Allow me to assist you?

abud. I couldn't, sir.

carnaby. Désolé!

Then he passes on. abud sits on the sofa, furtively puts on his boots and afterwards puts his shoes in his pockets.

lord arthur. You were so busy drinking health to the two fat farmers that I wouldn't interrupt you.

carnaby. Good-bye. Describe all this to your brother John.

lord arthur. So confirmed a bachelor!

carnaby. Please say that we missed him.

lord arthur hands him the newspaper.

lord arthur. I've out-raced your Chronicle from London by some hours. There's a paragraph . . second column . . near the bottom.

carnaby. [Looking at it blindly.] They print villainously now-a-days.

lord arthur. Inspired.

carnaby. I trust his grace is well?

lord arthur. Gouty.

carnaby. Now doesn't the social aspect of this case interest you?

lord arthur. I object to feeding with the lower classes.

carnaby. There's pride! How useful to note their simple manners! From the meeting of extremes new ideas spring . . new life.

lord arthur. Take that for a new social-political creed, Mr. Leete.

carnaby. Do I lack one?

lord arthur. Please make my adieux to the bride.

carnaby. Appropriate . . . 'à Dieu' . . she enters Nature's cloister. My epigram.

lord arthur. But . . good heavens . . are we to choose to be toiling animals?

carnaby. To be such is my daughter's ambition.

lord arthur. You have not read that.

carnaby. [Giving back the paper, vexedly.] I can't see.

lord arthur. "The Right Honourable Carnaby Leete is, we are glad to hear, completely recovered and will return to town for the opening of Session."

carnaby. I mentioned it.

lord arthur. "We understand that although there has been no reconciliation with the Government it is quite untrue that this gentleman will in any way resume his connection with the Opposition."

carnaby. Inspired?

lord arthur. I am here from my father to answer any questions.

carnaby. [With some dignity and the touch of a threat.] Not now, my lord.

dimmuck comes in at the front door.

dimmuck. The chaise, my lord.

carnaby. I will conduct you.

lord arthur. Please don't risk exposure.

carnaby. Nay, I insist.

lord arthur. Health and happiness to you both, Mr. Abud.

lord arthur goes out, followed by carnaby, followed by dimmuck. At that moment mr. smallpeice skips excitedly out of the dining-room. A ferret-like little lawyer.

mr. smallpeice. Oh . . where is Mr. Leete?

Not seeing him mr. smallpeice skips as excitedly back into the dining-room. dimmuck returns and hangs up his cloak then goes towards abud, whom he surveys.

dimmuck. Sir!

With which insult he starts for the dining-room reaching the door just in time to hold it open for sir george leete who comes out. He surveys abud for a moment, then explodes.

sir george leete. Damn you . . stand in the presence of your grandfather-in-law.

abud stands up. carnaby returns coughing, and sir george looks him up and down.

sir george leete. I shall attend your funeral.

carnaby. My daughter Sarah still needs me.

sir george leete. I wonder at you, my son.

carnaby. Have you any money to spare?

sir george leete. No.

carnaby. For Sarah, my housekeeper; I foresee a busy session.

abud is now gingerly walking up the stairs.

sir george leete. Carnaby . . look at that.

carnaby. Sound in wind and limb. Tread boldly, son-in-law.

abud turns, stands awkwardly for a moment and then goes into the dining-room.

sir george leete. [Relapsing into a pinch of snuff.] I'm calm.

carnaby. Regard this marriage with a wise eye . . as an amusing little episode.

sir george leete. Do you?

carnaby. And forget its oddity. Now that the humiliation is irrevocable, is it a personal grievance to you?

sir george leete. Give me a dinner a day for the rest of my life and I'll be content.

carnaby. Lately, one by one, opinions and desires have been failing me . . a flicker and then extinction. I shall shortly attain to being a most able critic upon life.

sir george leete. Shall I tell you again? You came into this world without a conscience. That explains you and it's all that does. That such a damnable coupling as this should be permitted by God Almighty . . or that the law shouldn't interfere! I've said my say.

mr. smallpeice again comes out of the dining-room.

mr. smallpeice. Mr. Leete.

carnaby. [Ironically polite.] Mr. Smallpeice.

mr. smallpeice. Mr. Crowe is proposing your health.

mr. crowe comes out. A crop-headed beefy-looking farmer of sixty.

mr. crowe. Was.

carnaby. There's a good enemy!

mr. crowe. Get out of my road . . lawyer Smallpeice.

carnaby. Leave enough of him living to attend to my business.

mr. smallpeice. [wriggling a bow at carnaby.] Oh . . dear sir!

sir george leete. [Disgustedly to mr. smallpeice.] You!

mr. smallpeice. Employed in a small matter . . as yet.

carnaby. [To crowe.] I hope you spoke your mind of me.

mr. crowe. Not behind your back, sir.

mrs. george leete leads lady leete from the dining-room. lady leete is a very old, blind and decrepit woman. dolly is a buxom young mother; whose attire borders on the gaudy.

carnaby. [With some tenderness.] Well . . Mother . . dear?

mr. crowe. [Bumptiously to sir george leete.] Did my speech offend you, my lord?

sir george leete. [Sulkily.] I'm a baronet.

lady leete. Who's this here?

carnaby. Carnaby.

dolly. Step down . . grandmother.

lady leete. Who did ye say you were?

dolly. Mrs. George Leete.

lady leete. Take me to the fire-side.

So carnaby and dolly lead her slowly to a chair by the fire where they carefully bestow her.

mr. smallpeice. [To farmer crowe.] He's leaving Markswayde, you know . . and me agent.

lady leete. [Suddenly bethinking her.] Grace was not said. Fetch my chaplain . . at once.

mr. smallpeice. I will run.

He runs into the dining-room.

dolly. [Calling after with her country accent.] Not parson Remnant . . t'other one.

lady leete. [Demanding.] Snuff.

carnaby. [To his father.] Sir . . my hand is a little unsteady.

sir george and carnaby between them give lady leete her snuff.

mr. crowe. Dolly . . ought those children to be left so long?

dolly. All right, father . . I have a maid.

lady leete sneezes.

sir george leete. She'll do that once too often altogether.

lady leete. I'm cold.

dolly. I'm cold . . I lack my shawl.

crowe. Call out to your man for it.

dolly. [Going to the dining-room door.] Will a gentleman please ask Mr. George Leete for my Cache-y-mire shawl?

mr. crowe. [To carnaby.] And I drank to the health of our grandson.

carnaby. Now suppose George were to assume your name, Mr. Crowe?

mr. tozer comes out of the dining-room. Of the worst type of eighteenth century parson, for which one may see Hogarth's 'Harlot's Progress.' He is very drunk.

sir george leete. [In his wife's ear.] Tozer!

lady leete. When . . why!

sir george leete. To say grace.

lady leete folds her withered hands.

mr. tozer. [through his hiccoughs.] Damn you all.

lady leete. [Reverently, thinking it is said.] Amen.

mr. tozer. Only my joke.

carnaby. [Rising to the height of the occasion.] Mr. Tozer, I am indeed glad to see you, upon this occasion so delightfully drunk.

mr. tozer. Always a gen'elman . . by nature.

sir george leete. Lie down . . you dog.

george comes out carrying the cashmere shawl.

george. [To his father.] Dolly wants her father to rent Markswayde, sir.

mr. crowe. Not me, my son. You're to be a farmer-baronet.

sir george. Curse your impudence!

carnaby. My one regret in dying would be to miss seeing him so.

george goes back into the dining-room.

mr. crowe. I am tickled to think that the man marrying your daughter wasn't good enough for mine.

carnaby. And yet at fisticuffs, I'd back John Abud against our son George.

dr. remnant has come out of the dining-room. tozer has stumbled towards him and is wagging an argumentative finger.

mr. tozer. . . Marriage means enjoyment!

dr. remnant. [Controlling his indignation.] I repeat that I have found in my own copy of the prayer book no insistence upon a romantic passion.

mr. tozer. My 'terpretation of God's word is 'bove criticism.

mr. tozer reaches the door and falls into the dining-room.

carnaby. [Weakly to dr. remnant.] Give me your arm for a moment.

dr. remnant. I think Lady Cottesham has Mrs. John Abud prepared to start, sir.

carnaby. I trust Ann will take no chill walking through the mud.

dr. remnant. Won't you sit down, sir?

carnaby. No.

For some moments crowe has been staring indignantly at sir george. Now he breaks out.

mr. crowe. The front door of this mansion is opened to a common gardener and only then to me and mine!

sir george leete. [Virulently.] Damn you and yours and damn them . . and damn you again for the worse disgrace.

mr. crowe. Damn you, sir . . have you paid him to marry the girl?

He turns away, purple faced and sir george chokes impotently. abud and mr. prestige come out talking. He is younger and less assertive than farmer crowe.

mr. prestige. [Pathetically.] All our family always has got drunk at weddings.

abud. [In remonstrance.] Please, uncle.

carnaby. Mr. Crowe . . I have been much to blame for not seeking you sooner.

mr. crowe. [Mollified.] Shake hands.

carnaby. [Offering his with some difficulty.] My arm is stiff . . from an accident. This is a maid's marriage, I assure you.

mr. prestige. [Open mouthed to dr. remnant.] One could hang bacon here!

dolly. [Very high and mighty.] The family don't.

carnaby. [To his father.] And won't you apologise for your remarks to Mr. Crowe, sir?

lady leete. [Demanding.] Snuff!

carnaby. And your box to my mother, sir.

sir george attends to his wife.

dolly. [Anxiously to dr. remnant.] Can a gentleman change his name?

mr. crowe. Parson . . once noble always noble, I take it.

dr. remnant. Certainly . . but I hope you have money to leave them, Mr. Crowe.

dolly. [To abud.] John.

abud. Dorothy.

dolly. You've not seen my babies yet.

lady leete sneezes.

sir george leete. Carnaby . . d'ye intend to murder that Crowe fellow . . or must I?

mr. smallpeice skips from the dining-room.

mr. smallpeice. Mr. John Abud . .

mr. crowe. [To dr. remnant as he nods towards carnaby.] Don't tell me he's got over that fever yet.

mr. smallpeice. . . The ladies say . . are you ready or are you not?

mr. prestige. I'll get thy cloak, John.

mr. prestige goes for the cloak. carnaby has taken a pistol from the mantel-piece and now points it at abud.

carnaby. He's fit for heaven!

george leete comes from the dining-room and noticing his father's action says sharply . .

george. I suppose you know that pistol's loaded.

Which calls everyone's attention. dolly shrieks.

carnaby. What if there had been an accident!

And he puts back the pistol. abud takes his cloak from prestige.

abud. Thank you, uncle.

mr. prestige. I'm a proud man. Mr. Crowe . .

carnaby. Pride!

george. [Has a sudden inspiration and strides up to abud.] Here ends the joke, my good fellow. Be off without your wife.

abud stares, as do the others. Only carnaby suddenly catches remnant's arm.

mr. prestige. [Solemnly.] But it's illegal to separate them.

george. [Giving up.] Mr. Prestige . . you are the backbone of England.

carnaby. [To remnant.] Where are your miracles?

mrs. prestige comes out. A motherly farmer's wife, a mountain of a woman.

mrs. prestige. John . . kiss your aunt.

abud goes to her, and she obliterates him in an embrace.

george. [To his father.] Sense of humour . . Sense of humour!

lady leete. Snuff.

But no one heeds her this time.

carnaby. It doesn't matter.

george. Smile. Let's be helpless gracefully.

carnaby. There are moments when I'm not sure.

george. It's her own life.

tozer staggers from the dining-room drunker than ever. He falls against the baluster and waves his arms.

mr. tozer. Silence there for the corpse!

mr. crowe. You beast!

mr. tozer. Respect my cloth . . Mr. Prestige.

mr. crowe. That's not my name.

mr. tozer. I'll have you to know that I'm Sir George Leete's baronet's most boon companion and her la'ship never goes nowhere without me. [He subsides into a chair.]

lady leete. [Tearfully.] Snuff.

From the dining-room comes ann; her head bent. She is crossing the hall when sarah follows, calling her.

sarah. Ann!

ann turns back to kiss her. The rest of the company stand gazing. sir george gives snuff to lady leete.

ann. Good-bye, Sally.

sarah. [In a whisper.] Forget us.

george. [Relieving his feelings.] Good-bye, everybody . . good-bye, everything.

abud goes to the front door and opening it stands waiting for her. She goes coldly, but timidly to her father, to whom she puts her face up to be kissed.

ann. Good-bye, Papa.

carnaby. [Quietly, as he kisses her cheek.] I can do without you.

sir george leete. [Raging at the draught.] Shut that door.

ann. I'm gone.

She goes with her husband. mrs. opie comes hurriedly out of the dining-room, too late.

mrs. opie. Oh!

dr. remnant. Run . . Mrs. Opie.

carnaby. There has started the new century!

mrs. opie opens the front door to look after them.

sir george leete. [With double energy.] Shut that door.

lady leete sneezes and then chokes. There is much commotion in her neighbourhood.

sir george. Now she's hurt again.

dolly. Water!

mr. crowe. Brandy!

sarah. [Going.] I'll fetch both.

george. We must all die . . some day.

mr. tozer. [Who has struggled up to see what is the matter.] And go to—

dr. remnant. Hell. You do believe in that, Mr. Toper.

mrs. opie. [Fanning the poor old lady.] She's better.

carnaby. [To his guests.] Gentlemen . . punch.

prestige and smallpeice; mrs. prestige, george and dolly move towards the dining-room.

mr. prestige. [To smallpeice.] You owe all this to me.

mr. crowe. Dolly . . I'm going.

mrs. prestige. [To her husband as she nods towards carnaby.] Nathaniel . . look at 'im.

george. [To his father-in-law.] Must we come too?

mrs. prestige. [As before.] I can't help it . . a sneerin' carpin' cavillin' devil!

mrs. opie. Markswayde is to let . . as I hear . . Mr. Leete?

carnaby. Markswayde is to let.

He goes on his way to the dining-room meeting sarah who comes out carrying a glass of water and a decanter of brandy. sir george leete is comfortably warming himself at the fire.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The living room of john abud's new cottage has bare plaster walls and its ceilings and floor are of red brick; all fresh looking but not new. In the middle of the middle wall there is a latticed window, dimity curtained; upon the plain shelf in front are several flower-pots.

To the right of this, a door, cross beamed and with a large lock to it besides the latch.

Against the right hand wall, is a dresser, furnished with dishes and plates: below it is a common looking grandfather clock; below this a small door which when opened shows winding stairs leading to the the room above. In the left hand wall there is a door which is almost hidden by the fireplace which juts out below it. In the fireplace a wood fire is laid but not lit. At right angles to this stands a heavy oak settle opposite a plain deal table; just beyond which is a little bench. On either side of the window is a Windsor armchair. Between the window and the door hangs a framed sampler.

In the darkness the sound of the unlocking of a door and of abud entering is heard. He walks to the table, strikes a light upon a tinder-box and lights a candle which he finds there. ann is standing in the doorway. abud is in stocking feet.

abud. Don't come further. Here are your slippers.

He places one of the Windsor chairs for her on which she sits while he takes off her wet shoes and puts on her slippers which he found on the table. Then he takes her wet shoes to the fireplace. She sits still. Then he goes to the door and brings in his own boots from the little porch and puts them in the fireplace too. Then he locks the door and hangs up the key beside it. Then he stands looking at her; but she does not speak, so he takes the candle, lifts it above his head and walks to the dresser.

abud. [Encouragingly.] Our dresser . . Thomas Jupp made that. Plates and dishes. Here's Uncle Prestige's clock.

ann. Past seven.

abud. That's upstairs. Table and bench, deal. Oak settle . . solid.

ann. Charming.

abud. Windsor chairs . . Mother's sampler.

ann. Home.

abud. Is it as you wish? I have been glad at your not seeing it until to-night.

ann. I'm sinking into the strangeness of the place.

abud. Very weary? It's been a long nine miles.

She does not answer. He goes and considers the flower-pots in the window.

ann. I still have on my cloak.

abud. Hang it behind the door there . . no matter if the wet drips.

ann. . . I can wipe up the puddle.

She hangs up her cloak. He selects a flower-pot and brings it to her.

abud. Hyacinth bulbs for the spring.

ann. [After a glance.] I don't want to hold them.

He puts back the pot, a little disappointed.

abud. Out there's the scullery.

ann. It's very cold.

abud. If we light the fire now that means more trouble in the morning.

She sits on the settle.

ann. Yes, I am very weary.

abud. Go to bed.

ann. Not yet. [After a moment.] How much light one candle gives! Sit where I may see you.

He sits on the bench. She studies him curiously.

ann. Well . . this is an experiment.

abud. [With reverence.] God help us both.

ann. Amen. Some people are so careful of their lives. If we fail miserably we'll hold our tongues . . won't we?

abud. I don't know . . I can't speak of this.

ann. These impossible things which are done mustn't be talked of . . that spoils them. We don't want to boast of this, do we?

abud. I fancy nobody quite believes that we are married.

ann. Here's my ring . . real gold.

abud. [With a sudden fierce throw up of his head.] Never you remind me of the difference between us.

ann. Don't speak to me so.

abud. Now I'm your better.

ann. My master . . The door's locked.

abud. [Nodding.] I know that I must be . . or be a fool.

ann. [After a moment.] Be kind to me.

abud. [With remorse.] Always I will.

ann. You are master here.

abud. And I've angered you?

ann. And if I fail . . I'll never tell you . . to make a fool of you. And you're trembling. [She sees his hand, which is on the table, shake.]

abud. Look at that now.

ann. [Lifting her own.] My white hands must redden. No more dainty appetite . . no more pretty books.

abud. Have you learned to scrub?

ann. Not this floor.

abud. Mother always did bricks with a mop. Tomorrow I go to work. You'll be left for all day.

ann. I must make friends with the other women around.

abud. My friends are very curious about you.

ann. I'll wait to begin till I'm seasoned.

abud. Four o'clock's the hour for getting up.

ann. Early rising always was a vice of mine.

abud. Breakfast quickly . . . and I take my dinner with me.

ann. In a handkerchief.

abud. Hot supper, please.

ann. It shall be ready for you.

There is silence between them for a little. Then he says timidly.

abud. May I come near to you?

ann. [In a low voice.] Come.

He sits beside her, gazing.

abud. Wife . . I never have kissed you.

ann. Shut your eyes.

abud. Are you afraid of me?

ann. We're not to play such games at love.

abud. I can't help wanting to feel very tender towards you.

ann. Think of me . . not as a wife . . but as a mother of your children . . if it's to be so. Treat me so.

abud. You are a part of me.

ann. We must try and understand it . . as a simple thing.

abud. But shall I kiss you?

ann. [Lowering her head.] Kiss me.

But when he puts his arms round her she shrinks.

ann. No.

abud. But I will. It's my right.

Almost by force he kisses her. Afterwards she clenches her hands and seems to suffer.

abud. Have I hurt you?

She gives him her hand with a strange little smile.

ann. I forgive you.

abud. [Encouraged.] Ann . . we're beginning life together.

ann. Remember . . work's enough . . no stopping to talk.

abud. I'll work for you.

ann. I'll do my part . . something will come of it.

For a moment they sit together hand in hand. Then she leaves him and paces across the room. There is a slight pause.

ann. Papa . . I said . . we've all been in too great a hurry getting civilised. False dawn. I mean to go back.

abud. He laughed.

ann. So he saw I was of no use to him and he's penniless and he let me go. When my father dies what will he take with him? . . . for you do take your works with you into Heaven or Hell, I believe. Much wit. Sally is afraid to die. Don't you aspire like George's wife. I was afraid to live . . and now . . I am content.

She walks slowly to the window and from there to the door against which she places her ear. Then she looks round at her husband.

ann. I can hear them chattering.

Then she goes to the little door and opens it. abud takes up the candle.

abud. I'll hold the light . . the stairs are steep.

He lights her up the stairs.

The Voysey Inheritance 1903-5