Part 22

TREBELL. Horsham will do his best. [_Then, as for the second time she reaches the door._] Don't take away my razors, will you? I only use them for shaving.

FRANCES. [_Almost blushing._] I half meant to . . I'm sorry. After all, Henry, just because they are forgetting in personal feelings what's best for the country . . it's your duty not to. You'll stand by and do what you can, won't you?

TREBELL. [_His queer smile returning, in contrast to her seriousness._] Disestablishment. It's a very interesting problem. I must think it out.

FRANCES. [_Really puzzled._] What do you mean?

_He gets up with a quick movement of strange strength, and faces her. His smile changes into a graver gladness._

TREBELL. Something has happened . . in spite of me. My heart's clean again. I'm ready for fresh adventures.

FRANCES. [_With a nod and answering gladness._] That's right.

_So she leaves him, her mind at rest. For a minute he does not move. When his gaze narrows it falls on the heaps of letters. He carries them carefully into_ WALTER KENT'S _room and arranges them as carefully on his table. On his way out he stops for a moment; then with a sudden movement bangs the door._

_Two hours later the room has been put in order. It is even more full of light and the shadows are harder than usual. The doors are open, showing you_ KENT'S _door still closed. At the big writing table in_ TREBELL'S _chair sits_ WEDGECROFT, _pale and grave, intent on finishing a letter_. FRANCES _comes to find him. For a moment she leans on the table silently, her eyes half closed. You would say a broken woman. When she speaks it is swiftly, but tonelessly._

FRANCES. Lord Horsham is in the drawing room . . and I can't see him, I really can't. He has come to say he is sorry . . and I should tell him that it is his fault, partly. I know I should . . and I don't want to. Won't you go in? What are you writing?

WEDGECROFT, _with his physicianly pre-occupation, can attend, understand, sympathise, without looking up at her_.

WEDGECROFT. Never mind. A necessary note . . to the Coroner's office. Yes, I'll see Horsham.

FRANCES. I've managed to get the pistol out of his hand. Was that wrong . . oughtn't I to have touched it?

WEDGECROFT. Of course you oughtn't. You must stay away from the room. I'd better have locked the door.

FRANCES. [_Pitifully._] I'm sorry . . but I couldn't bear to see the pistol in his hand. I won't go back. After all he's not there in the room, is he? But how long do you think the spirit stays near the body . . how long? When people die gently of age or weakness . . . But when the spirit and body are so strong and knit together and all alive as his . . .

WEDGECROFT. [_His hand on hers._] Hush . . hush.

FRANCES. His face is very eager . . as if it still could speak. I know that.

MRS. FARRANT _comes through the open doorway_. FRANCES _hears her steps and turning falls into her outstretched arms to cry there_.

FRANCES. Oh, Julia!

MRS. FARRANT. Oh my dear Fanny! I came with Cyril Horsham . . I don't think Simpson even saw me.

FRANCES. I can't go in and talk to him.

MRS. FARRANT. He'll understand. But I heard you come in here . .

WEDGECROFT. I'll tell Horsham.

_He has finished and addressed his letter, so he goes out with it._ FRANCES _lifts her head. These two are in accord and can speak their feelings without disguise or preparation._

FRANCES. Julia, Julia . . isn't it unbelievable?

MRS. FARRANT. I'd give . . oh, what wouldn't I give to have it undone!

FRANCES. I knew he meant to . . and yet I thought I had his promise. If he really meant to . . I couldn't have stopped it, could I?

MRS. FARRANT. Walter sent to tell me and I sent round to . . .

FRANCES. Walter came soon after, I think. Julia, I was in my room . . it was nearly breakfast time . . when I heard the shot. Oh . . don't you think it was cruel of him?

MRS. FARRANT. He had a right to. We must remember that.

FRANCES. You say that easily of my brother . . you wouldn't say it of your husband.

_They are apart by this._ JULIA FARRANT _goes to her gently_.

MRS. FARRANT. Fanny . . will it leave you so very lonely?

FRANCES. Yes . . lonelier than you can ever be. You have children. I'm just beginning to realise. . .

MRS. FARRANT. [_Leading her from the mere selfishness of sorrow._] There's loneliness of the spirit, too.

FRANCES. Ah, but once you've tasted the common joys of life . . once you've proved all your rights as a man or woman . . .

MRS. FARRANT. Then there are subtler things to miss. As well be alone like you, or dead like him, without them . . I sometimes think.

FRANCES. [_Responsive, lifted from egoism, reading her friend's mind._] You demand much.

MRS. FARRANT. I wish that he had demanded much of any woman.

FRANCES. You know how this misery began? That poor little wretch . . she's lying dead too. They're both dead together now. Do you think they've met . . ?

JULIA _grips both her hands and speaks very steadily to help her friend back to self control_.

MRS. FARRANT. George told me as soon as he was told. I tried to make him understand my opinion, but he thought I was only shocked.

FRANCES. I was sorry for her. Now I can't forgive her either.

MRS. FARRANT. [_Angry, remorseful, rebellious._] When will men learn to know one woman from another?

FRANCES. [_With answering bitterness._] When will all women care to be one thing rather than the other?

_They are stopped by the sound of the opening of_ KENT'S _door_. WALTER _comes from his room, some papers from his table held listlessly in one hand. He is crying, undisguisedly, with a child's grief._

KENT. Oh . . am I in your way . . ?

FRANCES. I didn't know you were still here, Walter.

KENT. I've been going through the letters as usual. I don't know why, I'm sure. They won't have to be answered now . . will they?

WEDGECROFT _comes back, grave and tense_.

WEDGECROFT. Horsham has gone. He thought perhaps you'd be staying with Miss Trebell for a bit.

MRS. FARRANT. Yes, I shall be.

WEDGECROFT. I must go too . . it's nearly eleven.

FRANCES. To the =other= inquest?

_This stirs her two listeners to something of a shudder._

WEDGECROFT. Yes.

MRS. FARRANT. [_In a low voice._] It will make no difference now . . I mean . . still nothing need come out? We needn't know why he . . why he did it.

WEDGECROFT. When he talked to me last night, and I didn't know what he was talking of. . .

FRANCES. He was waiting this morning for Lord Horsham's note. . .

MRS. FARRANT. [_In real alarm._] Oh, it wasn't because of the Cabinet trouble . . you must persuade Cyril Horsham of that. You haven't told him . . he's so dreadfully upset as it is. I've been swearing it had nothing to do with that.

WEDGECROFT. [_Cutting her short, bitingly._] Has a time ever come to you when it was easier to die than to go on living? Oh . . I told Lord Horsham just what I thought.

_He leaves them, his own grief unexpressed._

FRANCES. [_Listlessly._] Does it matter why?

MRS. FARRANT. Need there be more suffering and reproaches? It's not as if even grief would do any good. [_Suddenly with nervous caution._] Walter, you don't know, do you?

WALTER _throws up his tear-marked face and a man's anger banishes the boyish grief_.

WALTER. No, I don't know why he did it . . and I don't care. And grief is no use. I'm angry . . just angry at the waste of a good man. Look at the work undone . . think of it! Who is to do it! Oh . . the waste . . !

_"The Marrying of Ann Leete" was produced by the Stage Society at the Royalty Theatre on the evening of January 26th, 1902._

Ann Leete _Miss Winifred Fraser_ Lord John Carp _Julian Royce_ George Leete _Kenneth Douglas_ Mr. Daniel Tatton _J. Malcolm Dunn_ Lady Cottesham _Miss Henrietta Watson_ Carnaby Leete _H. A. Saintsbury_ John Abud _C. M. Hallard_ The Rev. Dr. Remnant _Howard Sturge_ Mrs. Opie _Miss Helen Rous_ Dimmuck _George Trollope_ Mr. Tetgeen _A. E. George_ Lord Arthur Carp _Charles V. France_ Mr. Smallpeice _J. Y. F. Cooke_ Sir George Leete _Arthur Grenville_ Mr. Crowe _Sydney Paxton_ Lady Leete _Miss Bessie Page_ Mrs. George Leete _Miss Florence Neville_ The Rev. Mr. Tozer _Ivan Berlin_ Mr. Prestige _Howard Templeton_ Mrs. Prestige _Mrs. Gordon Gray_

_"The Voysey Inheritance" was first played at the Court Theatre, a Vedrenne-Barker performance, on the afternoon of November 7th 1905._

Mr. Voysey _A. E. George_ Mrs. Voysey _Miss Florence Haydon_ Trenchard Voysey, K. C. _Eugene Mayeur_ Honor Voysey _Miss Geraldine Olliffe_ Major Booth Voysey _Charles Fulton_ Mrs. Booth Voysey _Miss Grace Edwin_ Christopher _Harry C. Duff_ Edward Voysey _Thalberg Corbett_ Hugh Voysey _Dennis Eadie_ Mrs. Hugh Voysey _Miss Henrietta Watson_ Ethel Voysey _Miss Alexandra Carlisle_ Denis Tregoning _Frederick Lloyd_ Alice Maitland _Miss Mabel Hackney_ Mr. Booth _O. B. Clarence_ The Rev. Evan Colpus _Edmund Gwenn_ Peacey _Trevor Lowe_ Phoebe _Miss Gwynneth Galton_ Mary _Mrs. Fordyce_

_"Waste" was produced by the Stage Society at the Imperial Theatre, Westminster, on the evening of November 24th, 1907._

Lady Davenport _Miss Amy Coleman_ Walter Kent _Vernon Steel_ Mrs. Farrant _Miss Beryl Faber_ Miss Trebell _Miss Henrietta Watson_ Mrs. O'Connell _Miss Aimee De Burgh_ Lucy Davenport _Miss Dorothy Thomas_ George Farrant _Frederick Lloyd_ Russell Blackborough _A. Holmes-Gore_ A Footman _Allan Wade_ Henry Trebell _Granville Barker_ Simpson _Miss Mary Barton_ Gilbert Wedgecroft _Berte Thomas_ Lord Charles Cantelupe _Dennis Eadie_ The Earl of Horsham _Henry Vibart_ Edmunds _Trevor Lowe_ Justin O'Connell _J. Fisher White_

Transcriber's Notes:-

Ellipses and hyphenation have been kept as in the original.

P. 16 "Innocency's opininons are invariably entertaining."==>"Innocency's opinions are invariably entertaining."

P. 79 "[_Disgustedly to_ MR. SMALLPIECE]"==>"[_Disgustedly to_ MR. SMALLPEICE]"

P. 103 "In ten years years I may be"==>"In ten years I may be"

P. 145 "one can trace the pyschology"==>"one can trace the psychology"

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