Chapter 6

THE MAN. No. Thats just it: Ive no business to do. Do you know what my life is? I spend my days from nine to six--nine hours of daylight and fresh air--in a stuffy little den counting another man's money. Ive an intellect: a mind and a brain and a soul; and the use he makes of them is to fix them on his tuppences and his eighteenpences and his two pound seventeen and tenpences and see how much they come to at the end of the day and take care that no one steals them. I enter and enter, and add and add, and take money and give change, and fill cheques and stamp receipts; and not a penny of that money is my own: not one of those transactions has the smallest interest for me or anyone else in the world but him; and even he couldnt stand it if he had to do it all himself. And I'm envied: aye, envied for the variety and liveliness of my job, by the poor devil of a bookkeeper that has to copy all my entries over again. Fifty thousand entries a year that poor wretch makes; and not ten out of the fifty thousand ever has to be referred to again; and when all the figures are counted up and the balance sheet made out, the boss isnt a penny the richer than he'd be if bookkeeping had never been invented. Of all the damnable waste of human life that ever was invented, clerking is the very worst.

TARLETON. Why not join the territorials?

THE MAN. Because I shouldnt be let. He hasnt even the sense to see that it would pay him to get some cheap soldiering out of me. How can a man tied to a desk from nine to six be anything--be even a man, let alone a soldier? But I'll teach him and you a lesson. Ive had enough of living a dog's life and despising myself for it. Ive had enough of being talked down to by hogs like you, and wearing my life out for a salary that wouldnt keep you in cigars. Youll never believe that a clerk's a man until one of us makes an example of one of you.

TARLETON. Despotism tempered by assassination, eh?

THE MAN. Yes. Thats what they do in Russia. Well, a business office is Russia as far as the clerks are concerned. So dont you take it so coolly. You think I'm not going to do it; but I am.

TARLETON. _[rising and facing him]_ Come, now, as man to man! It's not my fault that youre poorer than I am; and it's not your fault that I'm richer than you. And if you could undo all that passed between me and your mother, you wouldnt undo it; and neither would she. But youre sick of your slavery; and you want to be the hero of a romance and to get into the papers. Eh? A son revenges his mother's shame. Villain weltering in his gore. Mother: look down from heaven and receive your unhappy son's last sigh.

THE MAN. Oh, rot! do you think I read novelettes? And do you suppose I believe such superstitions as heaven? I go to church because the boss told me I'd get the sack if I didnt. Free England! Ha! _[Lina appears at the pavilion door, and comes swiftly and noiselessly forward on seeing the man with a pistol in his hand]._

TARLETON. Youre afraid of getting the sack; but youre not afraid to shoot yourself.

THE MAN. Damn you! youre trying to keep me talking until somebody comes. _[He raises the pistol desperately, but not very resolutely]._

LINA. _[at his right elbow]_ Somebody has come.

THE MAN _[turning on her]_ Stand off. I'll shoot you if you lay a hand on me. I will, by God.

LINA. You cant cover me with that pistol. Try.

_He tries, presenting the pistol at her face. She moves round him in the opposite direction to the hands of a clock with a light dancing step. He finds it impossible to cover her with the pistol: she is always too far to his left. Tarleton, behind him, grips his wrist and drags his arm straight up, so that the pistol points to the ceiling. As he tries to turn on his assailant, Lina grips his other wrist._

LINA. Please stop. I cant bear to twist anyone's wrist; but I must if you dont let the pistol go.

THE MAN. _[letting Tarleton take it from him]_ All right: I'm done. Couldnt even do that job decently. Thats a clerk all over. Very well: send for your damned police and make an end of it. I'm accustomed to prison from nine to six: I daresay I can stand it from six to nine as well.

TARLETON. Dont swear. Thats a lady. _[He throws the pistol on the writing table]._

THE MAN. _[looking at Lina in amazement]_ Beaten by a female! It needed only this. _[He collapses in the chair near the worktable, and hides his face. They cannot help pitying him]._

LINA. Old pal: dont call the police. Lend him a bicycle and let him get away.

THE MAN. I cant ride a bicycle. I never could afford one. I'm not even that much good.

TARLETON. If I gave you a hundred pound note now to go and have a good spree with, I wonder would you know how to set about it. Do you ever take a holiday?

THE MAN. Take! I got four days last August.

TARLETON. What did you do?

THE MAN. I did a cheap trip to Folkestone. I spent sevenpence on dropping pennies into silly automatic machines and peepshows of rowdy girls having a jolly time. I spent a penny on the lift and fourpence on refreshments. That cleaned me out. The rest of the time I was so miserable that I was glad to get back to the office. Now you know.

LINA. Come to the gymnasium: I'll teach you how to make a man of yourself. _[The man is about to rise irresolutely, from the mere habit of doing what he is told, when Tarleton stops him]._

TARLETON. Young man: dont. Youve tried to shoot me; but I'm not vindictive. I draw the line at putting a man on the rack. If you want every joint in your body stretched until it's an agony to live--until you have an unnatural feeling that all your muscles are singing and laughing with pain--then go to the gymnasium with that lady. But youll be more comfortable in jail.

LINA. _[greatly amused]_ Was that why you went away, old pal? Was that the telegram you said you had forgotten to send?

_Mrs Tarleton comes in hastily through the inner door._

MRS TARLETON. _[on the steps]_ Is anything the matter, John? Nurse says she heard you calling me a quarter of an hour ago; and that your voice sounded as if you were ill. _[She comes between Tarleton and the man.]_ Is anything the matter?

TARLETON. This is the son of an old friend of mine. Mr--er--Mr Gunner. _[To the man, who rises awkwardly]._ My wife.

MRS TARLETON. Good evening to you.

GUNNER. Er-- _[He is too nervous to speak, and makes a shambling bow]._

_Bentley looks in at the pavilion door, very peevish, and too preoccupied with his own affairs to pay any attention to those of the company._

BENTLEY. I say: has anybody seen Hypatia? She promised to come out with me; and I cant find her anywhere. And wheres Joey?

GUNNER. _[suddenly breaking out aggressively, being incapable of any middle way between submissiveness and violence]_ _I_ can tell you where Hypatia is. I can tell you where Joey is. And I say it's a scandal and an infamy. If people only knew what goes on in this so-called respectable house it would be put a stop to. These are the morals of our pious capitalist class! This is your rotten bourgeoisie! This!--

MRS TARLETON. Dont you dare use such language in company. I wont allow it.

TARLETON. All right, Chickabiddy: it's not bad language: it's only Socialism.

MRS TARLETON. Well, I wont have any Socialism in my house.

TARLETON. _[to Gunner]_ You hear what Mrs Tarleton says. Well, in this house everybody does what she says or out they go.

GUNNER. Do you suppose I want to stay? Do you think I would breathe this polluted atmosphere a moment longer than I could help?

BENTLEY. _[running forward between Lina and Gunner]_ But what did you mean by what you said about Miss Tarleton and Mr Percival, you beastly rotter, you?

GUNNER. _[to Tarleton]_ Oh! is Hypatia your daughter? And Joey is Mister Percival, is he? One of your set, I suppose. One of the smart set! One of the bridge-playing, eighty-horse-power, week-ender set! One of the johnnies I slave for! Well, Joey has more decency than your daughter, anyhow. The women are the worst. I never believed it til I saw it with my own eyes. Well, it wont last for ever. The writing is on the wall. Rome fell. Babylon fell. Hindhead's turn will come.

MRS TARLETON. _[naively looking at the wall for the writing]_ Whatever are you talking about, young man?

GUNNER. I know what I'm talking about. I went into that Turkish bath a boy: I came out a man.

MRS TARLETON. Good gracious! hes mad. _[To Lina]_ Did John make him take a Turkish bath?

LINA. No. He doesnt need Turkish baths: he needs to put on a little flesh. I dont understand what it's all about. I found him trying to shoot Mr Tarleton.

MRS TARLETON. _[with a scream]_ Oh! and John encouraging him, I'll be bound! Bunny: you go for the police. _[To Gunner]_ I'll teach you to come into my house and shoot my husband.

GUNNER. Teach away. I never asked to be let off. I'm ashamed to be free instead of taking my part with the rest. Women--beautiful women of noble birth--are going to prison for their opinions. Girl students in Russia go to the gallows; let themselves be cut in pieces with the knout, or driven through the frozen snows of Siberia, sooner than stand looking on tamely at the world being made a hell for the toiling millions. If you were not all skunks and cowards youd be suffering with them instead of battening here on the plunder of the poor.

MRS TARLETON. _[much vexed]_ Oh, did you ever hear such silly nonsense? Bunny: go and tell the gardener to send over one of his men to Grayshott for the police.

GUNNER. I'll go with him. I intend to give myself up. I'm going to expose what Ive seen here, no matter what the consequences may be to my miserable self.

TARLETON. Stop. You stay where you are, Ben. Chickabiddy: youve never had the police in. If you had, youd not be in a hurry to have them in again. Now, young man: cut the cackle; and tell us, as short as you can, what did you see?

GUNNER. I cant tell you in the presence of ladies.

MRS TARLETON. Oh, you are tiresome. As if it mattered to anyone what you saw. Me! A married woman that might be your mother. _[To Lina]_ And I'm sure youre not particular, if youll excuse my saying so.

TARLETON. Out with it. What did you see?

GUNNER. I saw your daughter with my own eyes--oh well, never mind what I saw.

BENTLEY. _[almost crying with anxiety]_ You beastly rotter, I'll get Joey to give you such a hiding--

TARLETON. You cant leave it at that, you know. What did you see my daughter doing?

GUNNER. After all, why shouldnt she do it? The Russian students do it. Women should be as free as men. I'm a fool. I'm so full of your bourgeois morality that I let myself be shocked by the application of my own revolutionary principles. If she likes the man why shouldnt she tell him so?

MRS TARLETON. I do wonder at you, John, letting him talk like this before everybody. _[Turning rather tartly to Lina]_ Would you mind going away to the drawing-room just for a few minutes, Miss Chipenoska. This is a private family matter, if you dont mind.

LINA. I should have gone before, Mrs Tarleton, if there had been anyone to protect Mr Tarleton and the young gentleman.

TARLETON. Youre quite right, Miss Lina: you must stand by. I could have tackled him this morning; but since you put me through those exercises I'd rather die than even shake hands with a man, much less fight him.

GUNNER. It's all of a piece here. The men effeminate, the women unsexed--

TARLETON. Dont begin again, old chap. Keep it for Trafalgar Square.

HYPATIA'S VOICE OUTSIDE. No, no. _[She breaks off in a stifled half laugh, half scream, and is seen darting across the garden with Percival in hot pursuit. Immediately afterwards she appears again, and runs into the pavilion. Finding it full of people, including a stranger, she stops; but Percival, flushed and reckless, rushes in and seizes her before he, too, realizes that they are not alone. He releases her in confusion]._

_Dead silence. They are all afraid to look at one another except Mrs Tarleton, who stares sternly at Hypatia. Hypatia is the first to recover her presence of mind._

HYPATIA. Excuse me rushing in like this. Mr Percival has been chasing me down the hill.

GUNNER. Who chased him up it? Dont be ashamed. Be fearless. Be truthful.

TARLETON. Gunner: will you go to Paris for a fortnight? I'll pay your expenses.

HYPATIA. What do you mean?

GUNNER. There was a silent witness in the Turkish bath.

TARLETON. I found him hiding there. Whatever went on here, he saw and heard. Thats what he means.

PERCIVAL. _[sternly approaching Gunner, and speaking with deep but contained indignation]_ Am I to understand you as daring to put forward the monstrous and blackguardly lie that this lady behaved improperly in my presence?

GUNNER. _[turning white]_ You know what I saw and heard.

_Hypatia, with a gleam of triumph in her eyes, slips noiselessly into the swing chair, and watches Percival and Gunner, swinging slightly, but otherwise motionless._

PERCIVAL. I hope it is not necessary for me to assure you all that there is not one word of truth--not one grain of substance--in this rascally calumny, which no man with a spark of decent feeling would have uttered even if he had been ignorant enough to believe it. Miss Tarleton's conduct, since I have had the honor of knowing her, has been, I need hardly say, in every respect beyond reproach. _[To Gunner]_ As for you, sir, youll have the goodness to come out with me immediately. I have some business with you which cant be settled in Mrs Tarleton's presence or in her house.

GUNNER. _[painfully frightened]_ Why should I go out with you?

PERCIVAL. Because I intend that you shall.

GUNNER. I wont be bullied by you. _[Percival makes a threatening step towards him]._ Police! _[He tries to bolt; but Percival seizes him]._ Leave me go, will you? What right have you to lay hands on me?

TARLETON. Let him run for it, Mr Percival. Hes very poor company. We shall be well rid of him. Let him go.

PERCIVAL. Not until he has taken back and made the fullest apology for the abominable lie he has told. He shall do that or he shall defend himself as best he can against the most thorough thrashing I'm capable of giving him. _[Releasing Gunner, but facing him ominously]_ Take your choice. Which is it to be?

GUNNER. Give me a fair chance. Go and stick at a desk from nine to six for a month, and let me have your grub and your sport and your lessons in boxing, and I'll fight you fast enough. You know I'm no good or you darent bully me like this.

PERCIVAL. You should have thought of that before you attacked a lady with a dastardly slander. I'm waiting for your decision. I'm rather in a hurry, please.

GUNNER. I never said anything against the lady.

MRS TARLETON. | Oh, listen to that! | BENTLEY. | What a liar! | HYPATIA. | Oh! | TARLETON. | Oh, come!

PERCIVAL. We'll have it in writing, if you dont mind. _[Pointing to the writing table]_ Sit down; and take that pen in your hand. _[Gunner looks irresolutely a little way round; then obeys]._ Now write. "I," whatever your name is--

GUNNER _[after a vain attempt]_ I cant. My hand's shaking too much. You see it's no use. I'm doing my best. I cant.

PERCIVAL. Mr Summerhays will write it: you can sign it.

BENTLEY. _[insolently to Gunner]_ Get up. _[Gunner obeys; and Bentley, shouldering him aside towards Percival, takes his place and prepares to write]._

PERCIVAL. Whats your name?

GUNNER. John Brown.

TARLETON. Oh come! Couldnt you make it Horace Smith? or Algernon Robinson?

GUNNER. _[agitatedly]_ But my name is John Brown. There are really John Browns. How can I help it if my name's a common one?

BENTLEY. Shew us a letter addressed to you.

GUNNER. How can I? I never get any letters: I'm only a clerk. I can shew you J. B. on my handkerchief. _[He takes out a not very clean one]._

BENTLEY. _[with disgust]_ Oh, put it up again. Let it go at John Brown.

PERCIVAL. Where do you live?

GUNNER. 4 Chesterfield Parade, Kentish Town, N.W.

PERCIVAL. _[dictating]_ I, John Brown, of 4 Chesterfield Parade, Kentish Town, do hereby voluntarily confess that on the 31st May 1909 I-- _[To Tarleton]_ What did he do exactly?

TARLETON. _[dictating]_ --I trespassed on the land of John Tarleton at Hindhead, and effected an unlawful entry into his house, where I secreted myself in a portable Turkish bath--

BENTLEY. Go slow, old man. Just a moment. "Turkish bath"--yes?

TARLETON. _[continuing]_ --with a pistol, with which I threatened to take the life of the said John Tarleton--

MRS TARLETON. Oh, John! You might have been killed.

TARLETON. --and was prevented from doing so only by the timely arrival of the celebrated Miss Lina Szczepanowska.

MRS TARLETON. Is she celebrated? _[Apologetically]_ I never dreamt--

BENTLEY. Look here: I'm awfully sorry; but I cant spell Szczepanowska.

PERCIVAL. I think it's S, z, c, z-- _[Lina gives him her visiting-card]._ Thank you. _[He throws it on Bentley's blotter]._

BENTLEY. Thanks awfully. _[He writes the name]._

TARLETON. _[to Percival]_ Now it's your turn.

PERCIVAL. _[dictating]_ I further confess that I was guilty of uttering an abominable calumny concerning Miss Hypatia Tarleton, for which there was not a shred of foundation.

_Impressive silence whilst Bentley writes._

BENTLEY. "foundation"?

PERCIVAL. I apologize most humbly to the lady and her family for my conduct-- _[he waits for Bentley to write]._

BENTLEY. "conduct"?

PERCIVAL. --and I promise Mr Tarleton not to repeat it, and to amend my life--

BENTLEY. "amend my life"?

PERCIVAL. --and to do what in me lies to prove worthy of his kindness in giving me another chance--

BENTLEY. "another chance"?

PERCIVAL. --and refraining from delivering me up to the punishment I so richly deserve.

BENTLEY. "richly deserve."

PERCIVAL. _[to Hypatia]_ Does that satisfy you, Miss Tarleton?

HYPATIA. Yes: that will teach him to tell lies next time.

BENTLEY. _[rising to make place for Gunner and handing him the pen]_ You mean it will teach him to tell the truth next time.

TARLETON. Ahem! Do you, Patsy?

PERCIVAL. Be good enough to sign. _[Gunner sits down helplessly and dips the pen in the ink]._ I hope what you are signing is no mere form of words to you, and that you not only say you are sorry, but that you are sorry.

_Lord Summerhays and Johnny come in through the pavilion door._

MRS TARLETON. Stop. Mr Percival: I think, on Hypatia's account, Lord Summerhays ought to be told about this.

_Lord Summerhays, wondering what the matter is, comes forward between Percival and Lina. Johnny stops beside Hypatia._

PERCIVAL. Certainly.

TARLETON. _[uneasily]_ Take my advice, and cut it short. Get rid of him.

MRS TARLETON. Hypatia ought to have her character cleared.

TARLETON. You let well alone, Chickabiddy. Most of our characters will bear a little careful dusting; but they wont bear scouring. Patsy is jolly well out of it. What does it matter, anyhow?

PERCIVAL. Mr Tarleton: we have already said either too much or not enough. Lord Summerhays: will you be kind enough to witness the declaration this man has just signed?

GUNNER. I havnt yet. Am I to sign now?

PERCIVAL. Of course. _[Gunner, who is now incapable of doing anything on his own initiative, signs]._ Now stand up and read your declaration to this gentleman. _[Gunner makes a vague movement and looks stupidly round. Percival adds peremptorily]_ Now, please.

GUNNER _[rising apprehensively and reading in a hardly audible voice, like a very sick man]_ I, John Brown, of 4 Chesterfield Parade, Kentish Town, do hereby voluntarily confess that on the 31st May 1909 I trespassed on the land of John Tarleton at Hindhead, and effected an unlawful entry into his house, where I secreted myself in a portable Turkish bath, with a pistol, with which I threatened to take the life of the said John Tarleton, and was prevented from doing so only by the timely arrival of the celebrated Miss Lena Sh-Sh-sheepanossika. I further confess that I was guilty of uttering an abominable calumny concerning Miss Hypatia Tarleton, for which there was not a shred of foundation. I apologize most humbly to the lady and her family for my conduct; and I promise Mr Tarleton not to repeat it, and to amend my life, and to do what in me lies to prove worthy of his kindness in giving me another chance and refraining from delivering me up to the punishment I so richly deserve.

_A short and painful silence follows. Then Percival speaks._

PERCIVAL. Do you consider that sufficient, Lord Summerhays?

LORD SUMMERHAYS. Oh quite, quite.

PERCIVAL. _[to Hypatia]_ Lord Summerhays would probably like to hear you say that you are satisfied, Miss Tarleton.

HYPATIA. _[coming out of the swing, and advancing between Percival and Lord Summerhays]_ I must say that you have behaved like a perfect gentleman, Mr. Percival.

PERCIVAL. _[first bowing to Hypatia, and then turning with cold contempt to Gunner, who is standing helpless]_ We need not trouble you any further. _[Gunner turns vaguely towards the pavilion]._

JOHNNY _[with less refined offensiveness, pointing to the pavilion]_ Thats your way. The gardener will shew you the shortest way into the road. Go the shortest way.

GUNNER. _[oppressed and disconcerted, hardly knows how to get out of the room]_ Yes, sir. I-- _[He turns again, appealing to Tarleton]_ Maynt I have my mother's photographs back again? _[Mrs Tarleton pricks up her ears]._

TARLETON. Eh? What? Oh, the photographs! Yes, yes, yes: take them. _[Gunner takes them from the table, and is creeping away, when Mrs Tarleton puts out her hand and stops him]._

MRS TARLETON. Whats this, John? What were you doing with his mother's photographs?

TARLETON. Nothing, nothing. Never mind, Chickabiddy: it's all right.

MRS TARLETON. _[snatching the photographs from Gunner's irresolute fingers, and recognizing them at a glance]_ Lucy Titmus! Oh John, John!

TARLETON. _[grimly, to Gunner]_ Young man: youre a fool; but youve just put the lid on this job in a masterly manner. I knew you would. I told you all to let well alone. You wouldnt; and now you must take the consequences--or rather _I_ must take them.

MRS TARLETON. _[to Gunner]_ Are you Lucy's son?

GUNNER. Yes.

MRS TARLETON. And why didnt you come to me? I didnt turn my back on your mother when she came to me in her trouble. Didnt you know that?

GUNNER. No. She never talked to me about anything.

TARLETON. How could she talk to her own son? Shy, Summerhays, shy. Parent and child. Shy. _[He sits down at the end of the writing table nearest the sideboard like a man resigned to anything that fate may have in store for him]._

MRS TARLETON. Then how did you find out?

GUNNER. From her papers after she died.

MRS TARLETON. _[shocked]_ Is Lucy dead? And I never knew! _[With an effusion of tenderness]_ And you here being treated like that, poor orphan, with nobody to take your part! Tear up that foolish paper, child; and sit down and make friends with me.

JOHNNY. | Hallo, mother this is all very well, you know-- | PERCIVAL. | But may I point out, Mrs Tarleton, that-- | BENTLEY. | Do you mean that after what he said of-- | HYPATIA. | Oh, look here, mamma: this is really--

MRS TARLETON. Will you please speak one at a time?

_Silence._