Chapter I: I-- I'm sorry to find you in this set (2)

No, no, Nicko! Nicko--! [_Giving FARNCOMBE a half frightened, half imploring look._] Nicko, I can't undo the mischief I've done; I can't do that. But I can try to make it up to you-- some of it-- and I will, if you'll let me. [_Putting her arms round his shoulders._] Nicko----!

JEYES.

[_Roughly._] Make it-- up to me?

LILY.

[_Her face close to his._] You know what I mean! As soon as possible-- next month, if you like-- next week-- quietly--! [_He grips her arms and stares at her blankly._] Ha, ha! Yes, you've been in too great a hurry to settle matters, _you_ have. Lord Farncombe and I-- we-- _we're_ not going to be married. I've refused him. [_Wildly._] I-- I've ruined _you_, Nicko; but I-- I've told him-- I'm not going to draw _him_ into my net! [_Clinging to JEYES and burying her face in the breast of his coat, crying._] Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm not going to draw _him_ into my net!

[_Again there is a pause and then JEYES turns to FARNCOMBE, dazed._

JEYES.

Farncombe----?

FARNCOMBE.

[_Inclining his head._] Yes-- yes----

JEYES.

[_With feeling._] My dear fellow, I-- I----!

LILY.

[_Raising her head and speaking through her tears-- to JEYES._] Nicko, I-- I want to have one more word with Lord Farncombe-- just one more word. [_He nods understandingly and goes to the door on the left. She follows him._] Only a minute; [_he opens the door_] and then you must walk away together, you and he, and part good friends. [_He goes out on to the landing and she closes the door and stands with her back to it, drying her eyes with her handkerchief. FARNCOMBE, still carrying his hat and overcoat, has crossed to the settee, a forlorn figure._] W-w-well, you-- you _have_ had a lucky escape, haven't you?

FARNCOMBE.

[_Heavily._] Escape?

LILY.

[_Leaving the door and advancing._] You-- you've heard what a cold-blooded, selfish wretch I am-- how I've treated Nicko!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Waving the idea away._] Oh----!

LILY.

[_Coming to him._] And you've seen what I'm like when I'm in a rage; you've seen what the genuine Lily Margaret Upjohn is, without her disguise. [_Looking up into his face pathetically._] Yes, that was _me_, Eddie, under the crust. Common as dirt, dear; common as dirt! [_Holding the lapels of his coat._] Oh! Oh, you'll always remember me, with my eyes starting out of my head, spitting at Nicko! You'll always picture that horrible sight when you think of me.

FARNCOMBE.

You-- you were provoked; I-- I admired you for it.

LILY.

[_Tenderly._] Ah, you dear boy! [_In an altered tone._] Eddie----

FARNCOMBE.

Yes?

LILY.

Had you-- a little hope-- that, after all, I might turn your offer over in my mind and-- and eventually----?

FARNCOMBE.

Yes-- yes.

LILY.

[_With a catch in her breath._] Ah----! [_In a whisper._] I-- I'll tell you something.

FARNCOMBE.

What?

LILY.

[_In his ear._] I _might_ have, if-- if you'd persisted.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Groaning._] Oh-h-h-h!

LILY.

[_Retreating a step or two._] Thank God Nicko came along! Thank God Nicko came along! _What_ was it his mother called us girls? A menace to society; creatures to be dreaded, and prayed against! You see I was right in wishing to protect you for your mammy's sake as well as your own. But, oh-- thank God Nicko came along! [_He sits suddenly upon the settee and covers his face with his hands. She returns to him quickly._] Ah, don't do that; don't do that! [_Touching his hands._] Eddie! Eddie! I'm not worth it. Eddie! [_With an effort, he lifts his head._] Listen. _This_ is what I want to say to you. Don't come near me any more; you mustn't. And don't come to the theatre again either. If I thought you were sitting in front, I-- I'm sure I couldn't----! [_Entreatingly._] Swear-- swear you'll keep away from me, and from the theatre! [_He nods._] And you'll never go to any supper or dinner or dance where you're likely to meet the other girls, will you? Eddie! [_He shakes his head._] Swear! [_He rises and, as he does so, she grips the lapels of his coat again, her eyes blazing fiercely._] Oh! Oh! If one of the other girls ever got hold of you, I-- I-- [_hissing into his face_] I'd kill her! [_She leaves him and goes to the door on the left and opens it._] Nicko! [_JEYES enters the room._] March, both of you! [_Exhausted._] I-- I'm pretty well baked. [_FARNCOMBE joins LILY and JEYES at the door and she stands between the two men looking from one to the other and taking a hand of each._] Ha, ha, ha! I've made the _pair_ of you precious miserable, if you only knew it. [_To JEYES._] The difference is that _he'll_ soon forget me, and _you_, with _me_ for a wife, are doomed for life. [_Putting her hands upon JEYES' shoulders._] Nicko----! [_She kisses him lightly and, having done so, asks him a question with her eyes. JEYES turns aside and she faces FARNCOMBE and offers him her lips. They kiss._] Good-bye. [_After a moment's pause, to both of them._] Away with you! [_The two men go out and she follows them to the top of the stairs and watches them descend. Then she slowly comes back into the room and stands listening at the door. There is a distant sound._] Ah! [_Partly closing the door, she wanders about the room aimlessly for a while. Then, impulsively, she runs to the further window, lifts the sash, and looks below._] Ah!... Ah!... [_Drawing back._] Ah-h-h-h----!

[_She shuts the window and comes to the settee and, sitting there,
takes off her shoes. Then she goes down upon the floor inelegantly,
hunts for her slippers, and puts them on. As she rises, the door on
the left is pushed open and MRS. UPJOHN peeps in cautiously._

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_In a dressing-gown and with her hair, now very scanty, tightly screwed up._] Lil----?

LILY.

[_Stiffening herself and speaking in a cold, level voice._] Oh, I was just coming up to you, mother, to get you to undo me.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Bustling to LILY._] I didn't mean to, but I fell off. [_Unhooking LILY'S dress._] It _was_ the front-door I 'eard a minute ago, then? It gave me sech a start. [_In difficulties with the hooks._] Turn more to the light, dearie. These dressmakers do it a' purpose, I b'lieve. The 'ooks on that noo gown o' mine are a perfect myst'ry. Wot's _this_?

LILY.

[_Twisting her body._] Oh, don't fiddle so, mother!

MRS. UPJOHN.

You _did_ let 'im stay a time, Lil. 'Eaps to talk over, eh?

LILY.

[_Stonily._] Heaps. [_Trying to assist MRS. UPJOHN._] Oh----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Well, dear; well, well! Tell me wot's took place. Don't keep me in suspense.

LILY.

I shan't tell you anything, mother, till I've had a sleep. I must go through the sheets first. [_Stamping her foot._] Oh, tear the thing; tear it!

MRS. UPJOHN.

'Ave you consented to make 'im 'appy, poor young gentleman? That's all I want to know, Lil. [_Overcoming a hook._] There!

LILY.

Thank you, mother. [_Slipping her arms out of her dress._] I can manage the rest.

MRS. UPJOHN.

But, Lil, dearie----!

LILY.

Oh, for mercy's sake, leave me alone! [_Violently._] Why can't you leave me alone!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Ho! Very good! [_Moving away indignantly as LILY, with shaking fingers, unfastens a necklace._] _This_ is my reward for layin' awake 'alf the night, is it, an' for thinkin' of you, an' wonderin' about you! Ungrateful little puss, you! [_Going towards the door._] After this, you can keep your affairs to yourself for as long as ever you choose. Don't you expect _me_----!

LILY.

[_Suddenly, sitting upon the settee._] Mother----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Sharply._] Yes?

LILY.

[_Her hand to her brow._] Oh, mother----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Hurrying to LILY._] Wot is it?

LILY.

[_Swaying._] At last-- at last----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

At last----?

LILY.

[_Clinging to MRS. UPJOHN._] I'm in love, mother-- I'm in love-- in love-- in love----!

END OF THE THIRD ACT.

THE FOURTH ACT

_The scene is the same as in the preceding act, but the light outside is brighter and warmer and in the room is more diffused. On the table in the centre, placed close to the settee, there is a small tray with a breakfast of tea and toast upon it. The bedroom door is partly open._

[_LILY, wan and red-eyed, is lying, propped up by cushions, upon the
settee. A newspaper is on her lap but she is gazing at vacancy. She
is in _négligé_. A dainty morning-robe covers her night-gown, her
bare feet are in slippers, and her hair is in a simple knot. MAUD
is at one of the drawers of the cupboard at the back, engaged in
selecting some articles of _lingerie_, and MRS. UPJOHN, completely
dressed for the day, is sitting in the arm-chair by the centre
table, her face hidden by a newspaper which she is reading.
Presently MAUD shuts the drawer and, carrying the _lingerie_,
comes forward._

MAUD.

[_To LILY._] What frock'll you put on?

LILY.

[_Starting slightly._] Eh?

MAUD.

One of your embroidered muslins, or your Ninon?

LILY.

[_Languidly._] Either; _I_ don't care.

MAUD.

Oh, gracious, what on earth _is_ the matter with you this morning! I've never known you as queer as this after any hop you've been to in _my_ time. [_To MRS. UPJOHN, who has lowered her paper._] Nothing wrong, is there?

LILY.

[_Turning over and burying her head in the cushions._] Maud.

MAUD.

[_Moving to the settee and bending over LILY._] Here I am, lovey.

LILY.

[_In a muffled voice._] Go into the next room and shut the door, and don't let me see your stupid, fat face till I come to you.

MAUD.

[_Laughing heartily._] Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! That's better. [_Going to the bedroom door._] That's how I like to hear her talk. We needn't send for Dr. Gilson yet awhile. Ha, ha, ha!

[_She disappears into the bedroom and closes the door._

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Looking at LILY._] Lil.

LILY.

Yes, mother?

MRS. UPJOHN.

'Ave another cup o' tea, won't you?

LILY.

No.

MRS. UPJOHN.

'Nother bit o' toast, then?

LILY.

No.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Smoke a cigarette.

LILY.

No.

MRS. UPJOHN.

You always _do_ 'ave a w'iff after your breakfast. Come!

LILY.

No.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Rising and walking away._] Oh, dear; oh, dear! Deuce take Carlton Smythe an' 'is supper party-- those are _my_ sentiments; _an'_ Lal Roper, busybody that 'e is! Things were goin' on with us as smooth an' peaceful as could be, before this upset.

LILY.

[_Raising herself, angrily._] _You_ were in it, mother; you're as much to blame as anybody.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Halting._] 'Ow _in_ it?

LILY.

In Uncle Lal's artful plan to prevent Nicko from being invited. You've confessed you were.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Lal twisted me round 'is little finger. I was clay in the porter's 'and, as your dad was fond of sayin'.

LILY.

[_Changing her position._] If only Nicko had been there, I shouldn't have given young Farncombe all those dances, nor wandered about with him in the intervals, nor allowed him to see me home. It all simply wouldn't, _couldn't_ have happened. [_Hitting a cushion._] Oh! [_Sitting up and embracing her knees._] Mother----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Behind the settee._] Wot?

LILY.

[_Knitting her brows._] I-- I'm so surprised at myself.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Surprised?

LILY.

So-- so disappointed with myself.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Why, you 'aven't done anything that-- that's not quite respectable, Lil. On the cont'ry----

LILY.

No, I haven't done anything that's actually not nice, but-- fancy!----

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Close to LILY._] Fancy----?

LILY.

[_Opening her eyes widely._] Fancy my letting myself go with young Farncombe as I did! _He-- he'd_ been admiring me from a distance for weeks and weeks, but I'd scarcely noticed him till last night! [_Leaning her head against MRS. UPJOHN, softly._] I-- I always thought I was such a cold girl, mother, in-- in that way.

MRS. UPJOHN.

I s'pose it was wot's called love at first sight, Lil.

LILY.

[_Laughing shamefacedly._] Ha, ha, ha! [_Putting her feet to the ground and shielding her face with her hands._] Oh, don't talk rot, mother.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Moving away._] Any'ow, it's not too late, Lil-- even now----

LILY.

Not too late----?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Behind the centre table._] To back out, dearie. The Captain couldn't possibly 'old you to a 'asty promise given 'im between four an' five in the mornin'.

LILY.

Oh! Oh, how _can_ you! I've passed my word to Nicko and I wouldn't break it for twenty thousand pounds. [_Looking up._] Mother----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Fussing with the things upon the table._] Yes?

LILY.

[_Resolutely._] I'm going to pull Nicko _up_, mother. I've dragged him down, and I mean to raise him. [_Clenching her hands._] So help me God, I do!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Well, you've got a tough job before you, Lil, in my opinion.

LILY.

Perhaps; but I mean to succeed. [_After a pause._] Besides----

MRS. UPJOHN.

Besides----?

LILY.

[_Slowly._] I've told you-- Nicko or no Nicko-- I'm determined-- I'm determined not to draw Eddie Farncombe into my net.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Into your _net_? [_Another pause._] Lil----

LILY.

Eh?

MRS. UPJOHN.

That's twice you've made use o' that remark. 'Oo's accused you----? [_There is a lively rat-tat at the door on the left._] Come in!

[_The door opens and JIMMIE BIRCH bounces into the room._

JIMMIE.

[_As she closes the door._] Ah, Ma! Ah, Lillums!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Good mornin'.

JIMMIE.

[_Kissing MRS. UPJOHN._] Ha, ha! We've met before, this morning, haven't we! [_Coming to LILY._] Well, dear old girl, and how are _you_ to-day? [_Kissing LILY and then eyeing her keenly._] A wreck?

LILY.

Rather.

JIMMIE.

I _ought_ to be, but I'm not. Directly I laid my pretty head on my pillow I went off, and never stirred till I found the breakfast-tray on my chest. [_Reckoning on her fingers._] Five to six-- six to seven-- seven to eight-- eight to nine-- nine to ten-- ten to eleven. I've had six hours; that's not so dusty. [_To LILY, slyly._] You didn't sleep very soundly, probably?

LILY.

Not very.

JIMMIE.

[_Smiling from ear to ear._] Excited? [_LILY shrugs her shoulders. There is a silence and then JIMMIE, still beaming, looks round and sees that MRS. UPJOHN has seated herself upon the fauteuil-stool._] May I sit down for a minute?

LILY.

Of course, Jimmie; do.

[_JIMMIE sits in the arm-chair by the centre table, awaiting some
communication which doesn't come. MRS. UPJOHN drums upon the table
with her fingers and LILY busies herself with re-arranging the
cushions on the settee._

JIMMIE.

[_After a while._] Hope I haven't dropped in too early?

LILY.

[_Settling her shoulders into the cushions._] Not a bit, dear.

JIMMIE.

It's nearly half-past twelve. I-- I _dashed_ round. [_After another pause, unable to restrain herself further._] Any news? Any-any-anything to tell me?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Abruptly._] Yes.

JIMMIE.

W-w-what----?

MRS. UPJOHN.

Lil's engaged.

JIMMIE.

Hah! [_Triumphantly._] Hah, hah! [_Clapping her hands and beating her feet upon the floor._] Hah, hah, hah, hah! [_Jumping up and sitting beside LILY and hugging and kissing her._] Oh! Oh! Oh! Y'm! Y'm! Y'm! Oh, you humbugs! [_Rising and rushing at MRS. UPJOHN and embracing her._] You solemn humbug, Ma! [_Leaving MRS. UPJOHN and singing and dancing to the refrain sung in the previous Act._] "If you would only, only love me;--" Ha, ha, ha! "If you would merely, merely say,----" [_Her voice gradually dying away as she sees that the expression on LILY'S face, and upon MRS. UPJOHN'S, doesn't alter._] "Wait but a little-- [_standing still_] little-- for me----"

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Caustically._] Yes, you _'ad_ better wait a little; you'd better wait till you 'ear _'oo_ she's engaged _to_.

JIMMIE.

Who-- to!

LILY.

[_Studying her nails._] _Whom_ to, mother.

JIMMIE.

Why, isn't it----?

MRS. UPJOHN.

No, it ain't. It's the Captain.

JIMMIE.

T-t-the Cap--! [_To LILY._] N-n-nicko? [_LILY nods. JIMMIE draws a deep breath._] Oh-h-h-h!

LILY.

[_Calmly._] Nicko turned up here early this morning-- while Eddie-- while Lord Farncombe was with me, in fact-- and I-- we-- the three of us-- we talked matters over, and-- and----

JIMMIE.

[_Her eyes starting out of her head._] Was there a row?

LILY.

Oh, don't be so curious, Jimmie. Poor Nicko has been after me for six years. A girl must play the game, if she's at all decent and wishes to preserve a shred of self-respect.

[_Again there is a pause and then JIMMIE silently resumes her seat in
the arm-chair._

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Moistening her lips with her tongue-- to JIMMIE._] 'Ow do you feel about it?

JIMMIE.

[_Thoughtfully._] How do I feel about it? [_To LILY._] May I say?

LILY.

[_Coldly._] Certainly.

JIMMIE.

[_Rubbing the arm of her chair with the palm of her hand._] Well, if I were on board a ship at this moment, I should be ringing for the stewardess; that's how I feel about it.

LILY.

[_Throwing herself, face downward, at full length upon the settee._] Oh! Oh, you're just like the rest of our girls on the question of marriage! You-- you-- you're detestable!

JIMMIE.

[_Sliding out of her chair and kneeling at the settee and putting an arm round LILY._] Oh, Lil-- Lil----!

LILY.

[_Repulsing her._] Yes, you are! [_Raising herself upon her elbow._] You'd rejoice to see me draw this boy into my net, wouldn't you! You know you would. [_MRS. UPJOHN rises and comes forward._] I dare say you jolly well wouldn't object to catching him yourself if you'd half a chance! [_Fiercely._] You try it; you try it-- you, or any of you!

JIMMIE.

[_Attempting to rise, scandalised._] Oh----!

LILY.

[_Holding her._] No, no----! Jimmie----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Lil, I'm perfec'ly ashamed of you, speakin' to Jimmie Birch in that manner.

LILY.

[_Dropping her head on JIMMIE'S shoulder._] Oh----!

JIMMIE.

She doesn't mean it.

MRS. UPJOHN.

I 'ope not. It ain't exac'ly pleasant to 'ave a dog in the manger for a daughter. [_To LILY._] Why _shouldn't_ young Farncombe turn 'is attention to Miss Birch, pray, or to any young lady who doesn't object to take your leavin's!

JIMMIE.

[_To MRS. UPJOHN._] H'sh, h'sh, h'sh!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Walking about._] No, I won't 'ush!

JIMMIE.

[_To LILY, quietly._] I'll come back in the afternoon.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Lil seems to 'ave got some maggot or other in 'er brain about drawin' Lord Farncombe into 'er _net_. Net indeed! [_JIMMIE, not heeding MRS. UPJOHN, arranges LILY comfortably upon the settee and then rises and smoothes out her skirt preparatory to departure._] As Lal Roper was sayin' yesterday, our tiptop, aristocratic English fam'lies ought to be 'xtremely grateful that strong, 'ealthy perfeshunals o' the class of Miss 'Arker an' Miss Trevail an' Miss Shafto are enterin' their ranks. An' if Lil chooses to be pig-'eaded enough----! [_JIMMIE makes a movement towards MRS. UPJOHN._] 'Ave a bottle o' ginger beer before you go. [_There is a prolonged, playful knocking at the door on the left followed, on the part of those in the room, by a gloomy pause._] That _is_ Lal.

LILY.

[_Groaning._] Oh-h-h-h!

JIMMIE.

[_Drawing a long face._] H'm!

LILY.

[_To JIMMIE._] Oh, Jimmie-- stay----!

[_The knocking is repeated. JIMMIE retreats to the right as MRS.
UPJOHN goes to the door and opens it. ROPER is outside._

ROPER.

[_Entering, in high spirits._] Hullo, hullo, hullo, hul-lo! [_Embracing MRS. UPJOHN._] Morning, Ma! [_Advancing._] Any _more_ bids for the handsome gilt candelabra with the crystal drops? Ha, ha, ha! [_To JIMMIE._] Morning, Jimmie! [_Looking down, upon LILY, eagerly._] Well, Lil! Well, my pet!

LILY.

[_In a weary tone, giving him the tips of her fingers and then turning upon her side with her face to the back of the settee._] How are you, Uncle Lal?

ROPER.

[_Chilled._] Oh, I-- thank you, Lil-- [_After a short pause, to MRS. UPJOHN-- glancing at LILY._] Not up to much to-day?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Glumly._] No great shakes.

ROPER.

Dancing too hard, I 'spect.

MRS. UPJOHN.

A deal too 'ard.

ROPER.

[_After another pause._] Anything else amiss, Ma?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Sitting upon the box-ottoman-- to JIMMIE, who is at the piano examining some of the music._] _You_ tell Lal, Jimmie.

ROPER.

T-t-tell--? [_To JIMMIE, who comes to the settee-- apprehensively._] Jimmie----!

JIMMIE.

[_Behind the settee, gravely._] No, the old Pandora isn't going to score _this_ time, Lal.

ROPER.

Isn't going to--? I d-d-don't follow you.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Be plain, Jimmie.

JIMMIE.

[_Endeavouring to relieve the situation._] Ha, ha! Nature's taken precious good care of that, in my case.

ROPER.

[_Angrily._] Now, look here, Jimmie! A jest is a capital thing in its way. No man has a keener sense of humour than Lal Roper. But there _are_ occasions when it's out o' place, and this is one of 'em, my dear; and if it's not putting you to serious inconvenience----

JIMMIE.

[_Also losing her temper._] Oh, well, then, have it in the neck! Lil's declined young Farncombe. There! And when _you_ crack a joke next, Mr. Roper, I beg you'll contrive to favour us with a little variety; [_flouncing away_] because you bore me pallid with your rotten wheezes, and always have done.

ROPER.

[_Going to MRS. UPJOHN, aghast at the tidings._] Ma----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_To ROPER, under her breath._] Won't draw 'im into 'er net, Uncle.

ROPER.

Won't draw him into her----?

JIMMIE.

[_At the back._] K-n-e-double t-- net!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Pacifically._] Jimmie----!

JIMMIE.

[_Mimicking ROPER derisively._] Hullo, hullo, hullo, hul-lo! Fresh fish from the sea! Buy 'em on the beach; buy 'em on the beach; buy 'em on the beach!

ROPER.

[_To JIMMIE, indignantly._] Jimmie Birch----!

JIMMIE.

[_Sitting upon the fauteuil-stool._] Ha, ha!

ROPER.

[_To MRS. UPJOHN, wiping his brow._] Of course, there is _this_ to be said, Ma. [_Rallying at the idea._] It may be wise of dear Lil to decline Farncombe _at first_. It-- it-- it-- it doesn't do for a girl, does it, to appear to throw herself at _any_ man, let alone a young fellow of the position-- the-- the-- the social status----!

LILY.

[_Suddenly sitting up and putting her feet to the floor again._] Oh, for mercy's sake, cease discussing my affairs in my presence! [_To MRS. UPJOHN._] Mother, why do you keep Uncle Lal in the dark? [_To JIMMIE._] Jimmie, why don't _you_----?

ROPER.

In the dark!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Yes, Lal; your flyin' out at Jimmie over 'er 'armless joke stopped 'er finishin'.

ROPER.

Finishing----?

MRS. UPJOHN.

Lil's not on'y refused young Farncombe but she's gone an' plighted 'erself to another individual.

ROPER.

Plighted herself----?

LILY.

[_Passionately._] To one of the best! To one of the best!

ROPER.

[_Stupefied._] Do I-- do I know him?

JIMMIE.

Ha!

LILY.

Know him! You know him sufficiently to have plotted and schemed to prevent his being asked to the party last night.

JIMMIE.

[_To LILY._] Did Lal do that?

LILY.

_Did_ he!

JIMMIE.

Impudence!

ROPER.

[_Sitting in the arm-chair by the centre table-- quietly._] Jeyes!

JIMMIE.

Nicko.

LILY.

[_Firmly._] Nicko.

MRS. UPJOHN.

But the Captain _was_ at the party last night notwithstandin'.

JIMMIE.

[_To MRS. UPJOHN._] Nonsense, Ma!

LILY.

Yes, Nicko managed to get into the theatre somehow or other.

JIMMIE.

[_To LILY._] And watched you and young Farncombe----!

LILY.

And stationed himself under the portico of Twenty seven, to see who brought me home.

JIMMIE.

Oh----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

'E's always been frightfully jealous, the Captain 'as.

JIMMIE.

[_Looking at ROPER._] Oh, so _really_ it's entirely owing to Lal Roper's interference that matters were brought to a head this morning!

LILY.

[_Her eyes flashing._] Entirely.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Joining in the attack upon ROPER._] Yes, if Lal 'ad been content to mind 'is own business----

JIMMIE.

And hadn't meddled----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

_An'_ muddled----!

JIMMIE.

Things might have gone on much the same as before.

MRS. UPJOHN.

An' might 'ave ended different.

LILY.

[_Rising and walking away to the right._] Ah, no, mother----!

JIMMIE.

[_Rising and joining LILY._] Certainly they might.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Rising._] Any'ow I 'ope it'll be a lesson to Lal----

JIMMIE.

_Do_ you, Ma!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Moving over to the girls._] Not to put 'is fingers into other people's pies.

JIMMIE.

[_To MRS. UPJOHN, with a withering glance at ROPER._] Oh, you _are_ sanguine!

ROPER.

[_Rising and straightening himself out._] Ma-- Mrs. Upjohn-- Lily----

JIMMIE.

[_Scornfully._] Hullo, hullo, hullo, hul-lo----!

ROPER.

[_To JIMMIE._] P'sh! [_Impressively._] Ma-- Lily-- for years-- longer than it's agreeable to count-- I've been a patron of the drama-- particularly musical comedy, of which I've studied the development with especial interest.

JIMMIE.

[_Resting her elbows upon the back of the settee._] Yes, you've studied a lot of development, Lal, in your day.

ROPER.

[_Ignoring JIMMIE._] It's been a fad with me; I put it no higher than that. [_Producing his gloves._] But I've devoted time to it----

JIMMIE.

Any amount.

ROPER.

[_Drawing a glove on._] Often to the neglect of my ventures in the City. Here I am _now_, for instance.

JIMMIE.

That's obvious.

ROPER.

And-- I frankly admit it-- I've had more than one serious dispute with _Mrs._ Roper on the subject. [_JIMMIE softly whistles a few bars of "Rule, Britannia."_] Yesterday, by a coincidence-- [_feeling the outside of his breast-pocket_] letter from the wife-- full o' complaints-- haven't been to Bexhill, to her and the kids, for weeks. And to do Ellen Roper justice, she's not the woman to grumble without cause. [_Picking up his hat and cane which he has placed upon the centre table._] Dash it all, home ties _are_ home ties! [_Polishing his hat with his sleeve._] And, taking one consideration with another-- and after this-- this occurrence-- it's my intention for the future-- my firm intention----

LILY.

[_Running to ROPER and throwing her arms around his neck._] Oh, Uncle Lal, not altogether! We're tired and cross this morning! Not altogether!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Behind the centre table._] No, no, Uncle, you mustn't----!

LILY.

[_To ROPER._] Forgive us! [_Coaxingly._] Mother and Jimmie are cats----!

MRS. UPJOHN AND JIMMIE.

Oh----!

[_The door on the left opens, and GLADYS enters with a card on a
salver._

GLADYS.

[_Advancing to LILY._] Are you _in_?

LILY.

In?

GLADYS.

[_Surveying LILY with mingled disdain and pity._] Oh you _do_ look washed out!

LILY.

[_Going to GLADYS._] Never you mind whether I look washed out or not. Who is it?

[_LILY takes the card, reads some writing upon it, and stands
twiddling the card in her fingers._

GLADYS.

They're in the dining-room.

LILY.

[_To GLADYS, after a pause._] W-wait outside-- on the landing.

GLADYS.

Oh, all right. _This_ won't get my silver cleaned.

[_GLADYS withdraws. LILY waits for the door to close and then walks
about distractedly._

LILY.

Oh, why can't they leave me alone! What do they want with me now, both of them!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Moving towards LILY._] 'Oo----?

LILY.

Nicko's downstairs-- with Lord Farncombe.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Lord Farncombe----!

ROPER.

And Jeyes!

LILY.

[_Reading the card again._] Nicko asks me to see him and the boy together. [_ROPER and MRS. UPJOHN go to LILY, one on each side of her, and try to read the card. She pushes them from her and sits in the arm-chair by the centre table._] I won't; I won't.

JIMMIE.

[_Joining MRS. UPJOHN and ROPER._] Yes, yes, Lil; do.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Bewildered._] Wot----?

JIMMIE.

Perhaps they've arrived at a friendly understanding----!

ROPER.

Understanding?

JIMMIE.

[_Excitedly._] And have come to propose that Lil should choose between them!

ROPER.

Great Scot----!

LILY.

I _have_ chosen; I _have_ chosen. It's settled.

ROPER.

_Undoubtedly_ she ought to see them.

LILY.

It's a shame to persecute me so-- a shame!

JIMMIE, MRS. UPJOHN, AND ROPER.

[_Behind LILY'S chair._] Lil! Lily----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Give 'em a minute, dear.

ROPER.

Hear what they've got to _say_.

JIMMIE.

It _would_ be uncivil _not_ to.

LILY.

Oh--! Oh----!

JIMMIE. }

Buck up, Lil! }

ROPER. } [_To LILY, urgently._]

My pet! }

MRS. UPJOHN. }

'Ark to reason, dearie. }

JIMMIE, MRS. UPJOHN, AND ROPER.

Lil! Lily----!

LILY.

[_Yielding helplessly._] Oh, very well----

JIMMIE, MRS. UPJOHN, AND ROPER.

Ah----!

LILY.

Tell Gladys-- when I ring----

JIMMIE.

[_Flying to the door on the left._] I'll tell her.

ROPER.

[_To MRS. UPJOHN, importantly._] Lucky I was on the spot; lucky I was on the spot.

JIMMIE.

[_On the landing, to GLADYS._] Bring the gentlemen up when Miss Lily rings.

LILY.

[_Rising and pacing the room on the right._] Give me some stockings!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Hurrying into the bedroom._] Yes, dearie. [_As she disappears._] Maud----!

JIMMIE.

[_Returning and closing the door and then whispering to ROPER._] Bet my boots that's it!

ROPER.

[_To JIMMIE, in a whisper._] Choose between 'em!

JIMMIE.

What else can it be?

ROPER.

_I_ can't----

JIMMIE.

[_Throwing herself into ROPER'S arms._] Oh, if it _is_!

ROPER.

[_Hugging her._] Oh----!

JIMMIE.

[_Suddenly, releasing herself._] Oh----! [_Haughtily._] Thought you were Lily.

[_MRS. UPJOHN returns, carrying a pair of stockings. LILY seats
herself upon the fauteuil-stool where, concealed by the centre table,
she draws on the stockings with MRS. UPJOHN'S assistance._

LILY.

[_Whimpering._] Oh--! Oh----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Don't, dearie; don't. Mother's _'ere_.

ROPER.

[_Impatiently._] I-- ah-- I think I'll run downstairs and shake hands with Jeyes and Farncombe while Lily's tidying herself.

JIMMIE.

[_Who has moved over to the right-- to ROPER._] Be careful. I should advise you not to risk it.

ROPER.

[_At the door._] Risk it?

JIMMIE.

If Nicko knows you were the cause of his being shut out of the party last night, he'll simply throttle you.

ROPER.

[_Opening the door._] Throttle _me_! [_Formidably._] Throttle Lal Roper----!

[_He disappears, closing the door, as MAUD enters from the bedroom
with a pair of shoes._

LILY.

[_Weakly._] Oh! Oh! Oh! Get me something to keep these up with.

JIMMIE.

[_To MAUD._] Ribbon----

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Snatching the shoes from MAUD._] Ribbon.

[_MAUD opens one of the drawers underneath the further cupboard on the
left and finds a roll of bright, new ribbon, while JIMMIE, searching
among the objects on the centre table, discovers the case of manicure
instruments and takes from it a pair of scissors._

LILY.

[_Putting on her shoes-- to MRS. UPJOHN._] No, no; that's the left foot-- oh----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Don't agitate yourself, dearie. Mother's _'ere_.

[_MAUD comes to the centre table with the ribbon and JIMMIE cuts off
two lengths from the roll._

MAUD.

[_To JIMMIE._] Morning, Miss Jimmie!

JIMMIE.

[_To MAUD._] Morning!

LILY.

[_To MRS. UPJOHN._] Where's the mirror? Where's the mirror?

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Taking the mirror from the table and giving it to LILY._] 'Ere it is, dearie; 'ere it is. An' _I'm_ 'ere too.

LILY.

[_Viewing herself in the mirror and running her hand over her hair._] Oh, how horrid I look! [_JIMMIE goes to LILY with the two lengths of ribbon and MAUD replaces the roll in the drawer._] Ring the bell. [_JIMMIE hands LILY the garters, relieving her of the mirror, and MRS. UPJOHN hastens to the fireplace and presses the bell-push continuously._] That'll do, Maud; _you_ hook it.

MAUD.

[_Going to the bedroom door._] Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! That's how I like to hear her talk. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

[_MAUD vanishes into the bedroom, closing the door, and LILY, having
tied up her stockings, rises and comes to the settee._

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Still pressing the bell-push._] _Now_ I don't believe I've rung.

LILY.

[_At the uttermost tension._] Ah, stop it, mother; stop it! [_Sitting on the settee._] We're not calling the fire-brigade.

JIMMIE.

[_At the back of the settee, to LILY._] I'll wait in your bedroom till the men have been shown up, and sneak out that way. [_Bending over LILY._] Mind! If Nicko _is_ willing, after all, that you should make your choice----

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Advancing._] Yes, dearie, if 'e _is_ willing----

LILY.

[_Frantically._] I tell you I _have_ made it. I keep on telling you _I've chosen-- I've chosen-- I've chosen!_ [_Clenching her hands._] If you torment me any more, either of you----!

[_MRS. UPJOHN and JIMMIE retreat precipitately to the bedroom door.
They open the door and then, standing in the doorway, listen
intently._

JIMMIE.

[_Disappearing._] Ah----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Partially disappearing._] Ah--! [_Only her head visible, speaking to LILY in a hoarse whisper._] Mother's _'ere_, dearie.

[_The head is withdrawn and the door softly closed. After a pause,
GLADYS enters at the other door followed by JEYES and FARNCOMBE. The
men are carrying their hats and canes. GLADYS retires, closing the
door, and JEYES comes to LILY and shakes hands with her._

JEYES.

[_To LILY, gently._] How are you to-day, Lil? Very fagged?

LILY.

[_Almost inaudibly._] I _am_ a little. [_JEYES turns from her, to lay his hat and cane upon the box-ottoman, and then FARNCOMBE, who has hung back, advances hesitatingly to the further side of the centre table and bows to LILY. She rises and, avoiding his eyes, gives him a limp hand across the table._] How d'ye do? [_To JEYES who, having got rid of his hat and cane, moves away from the ottoman._] Sit down, won't you? [_She resumes her seat upon the settee and JEYES, with a nod, sits in the arm-chair by the centre table. FARNCOMBE remains standing and again she addresses him without meeting his eyes._] And you?

[_FARNCOMBE, with another bow, sits upon the fauteuil-stool. There is
a brief silence and then JEYES speaks._

JEYES.

Lil----

LILY.

Y-yes?

JEYES.

In the first place, Farncombe wants you distinctly to understand how it is he's committing this breach of his compact with you. [_To FARNCOMBE._] You promised----?

FARNCOMBE.

I promised never to attempt to come near Miss Parradell again, nor even to enter the theatre.

JEYES.

[_To LILY._] And if I'm any judge of a man, Lily, Farncombe would have kept his promise. He'd have kept it faithfully, but for _me_. I've brought him along-- insisted on it. [_Emphatically._] _I've brought him along._ See?

LILY.

W-w-why, Nicko?

JEYES.

I'll tell you, my dear. You remember, when we left you early this morning, ordering us to walk away together and to part good friends?

LILY.

P-perfectly.

JEYES.

Well, we did walk away together, and we did part good friends. But we didn't part at all till some hours later, in his rooms. We didn't part till I'd made him stand by me and listen to me while I had a long jaw with my brother on the 'phone.

LILY.

[_Wonderingly._] With-- your----?

JEYES.

About that Rhodesian business.

LILY.

What Rhodesian business?

JEYES.

I mentioned it to you yesterday. Bob owns a third, with Peter Chalmers and Tom Dalby, of a group of farms near Bulawayo, and he's been badgering me eternally to cut this and to settle out there as their agent. [_Simply._] And I've accepted, old girl.

LILY.

[_With a blank face._] Ac-cepted?

JEYES.

[_Grimly._] Leaving you to bring an action against me, to recover damages for a broken heart. [_Drawing a deep breath._] Yes, I'm chucking you, Lil. I give you formal notice of my intention; and you can drive down to your solicitors this afternoon and instruct them to writ me without delay. [_Forcing a laugh._] Ha, ha, ha!

LILY.

[_Faintly._] Nicko----!

JEYES.

Unless-- unless you've an idea of consoling yourself shortly with-- with another chap, and prefer not to carry the matter into Court.

LILY.

[_About to rise._] Nicko----!

JEYES.

[_Restraining her by a gesture._] H'sh! No, no, no. [_She sinks back._] Ah, Lil-- Lil-- I know you're full of generous, honest impulses, though I _did_ tear you to rags in Farncombe's hearing a few hours ago. But I'm not going to allow you to sacrifice yourself to them; I-- I-- I've come to my senses, and I'm not going to permit it. [_Bending forward._] Oh, my dear, why should I make you pay for the weaknesses of my character? Because that's what it 'ud amount to. I've bullied you for having played skittles with my life, my career. So you _have_! Damn it, so you have! But you've done it out of blind thoughtlessness; and if I'd been a fairly strong man, with some ballast in me, you _couldn't_ have landed me where I am-- not you nor fifty Pandora girls! [_Sitting erect._] And that-- that's the moral of the tale; and-- and-- [_abruptly, to FARNCOMBE_] There's nothing more, is there, Farncombe?

FARNCOMBE.

[_Brokenly._] Except that-- that I'd like to repeat-- what I've already said to Jeyes-- that I-- [_his elbows on the table, his head bowed_] oh, you make me feel terribly small, Jeyes.

[_Again there is a pause, and then LILY struggles to her feet and
holds out her hand to JEYES uncertainly, and at once he rises and
takes her in his arms. FARNCOMBE also rises and, standing behind the
settee, turns his back to JEYES and LILY._

LILY.

[_To JEYES, choking._] Ah, Nicko-- I can't-- I can't----

JEYES.

[_Patting her shoulder._] Ah----!

LILY.

Why, what-- what would become of my resolutions----?

JEYES.

Resolutions?

LILY.

To-- to raise you _up_, Nicko.

JEYES.

You _are_ raising me up-- setting me on my legs again.

LILY.

[_In a fright._] And-- and drawing Eddie into my net!

JEYES.

Oh, we've talked of that too, he and I. He's given me an account of what passed between you here. My dear girl, your conscience may be quite clear on that point. Nobody can ever reproach _you_ with trying to draw him into your net.

LILY.

They _would_-- they _would_----

JEYES.

At all events, the task you have to face now is to prove to the world-- _his_ world-- that Miss Parradell is equal to playing "lead" on a bigger stage than the stage of the Pandora. [_Holding her at arms' length and shaking her fondly._] And you'll _do_ it! Ho, ho, ho, ho! _You'll_ do it! Ha, ha, ha--! [_His voice dies away miserably and he releases her. Then, pulling himself together, he looks at his watch._] Well, I've got to lunch with Bob at half-past one at the Junior Carlton----

LILY.

[_Agitatedly._] Ah, it's not nearly that, Nicko; it's not nearly that! Nicko--! [_She passes him, moving towards the door on the left as if to intercept him, and then turns to him. A strip of ribbon lies upon the spot where she has been standing. After gazing at it for a moment, he stoops and picks it up._] Oh--! [_He folds the ribbon carefully and puts it into his pocket._] Oh--! [_Hitching up her stocking through her robe, piteously._] Ha, ha!

JEYES.

Ha, ha, ha----!

[_They face one another, laughing, and then she sits upon the
fauteuil-stool and drops her head upon the table and he fetches his
hat and cane from the box-ottoman._

LILY.

[_Weeping._] Nicko-- Nicko----!

JEYES.

[_Coming to her._] Oh, this isn't good-bye, Lil, not by any manner o' means, my dear. We'll kill the fatted calf several times before I start-- you, I, and the boy. Besides, by-and-by, you and he must take a trip and come out to see me. "Seringa Vale" is the farm where I shall be quartered, Bob tells me. [_Looking into space._] Jermyn Street to Seringa Vale! [_Shaking himself._] Ph'h, there are no great distances in these days! [_To FARNCOMBE, with a change of tone._] Farncombe-- [_FARNCOMBE comes forward._] You dine with me to-night, recollect; it's an engagement.

FARNCOMBE.

Yes.

JEYES.

Eight o'clock.

FARNCOMBE.

Eight o'clock.

JEYES.

Catani's.

FARNCOMBE.

Catani's.

[_Without looking at LILY again, JEYES goes to the door and opens it.
FARNCOMBE follows him and the two men halt in the doorway._

JEYES.

[_To FARNCOMBE, with a motion of his head towards LILY._] And afterwards-- _you_ fetch her from the theatre and take her home. That's _your_ job.

LILY.

[_Rising._] Oh----!

[_FARNCOMBE goes out on to the landing with JEYES and parts from him
at the top of the stairs. Then FARNCOMBE slowly returns, closes the
door, and finds LILY sitting upon the settee in a woeful attitude._

FARNCOMBE.

[_Coming to LILY and standing before her, thoughtfully._] Lily----

LILY.

[_Feebly._] Eh-- eh----?

FARNCOMBE.

I'm afraid there's one thing finer than winning the woman you love and, when you've won her, being prepared to go through fire and water for her.

LILY.

What's that?

FARNCOMBE.

Having the courage to give her up, as Jeyes has done.

LILY.

[_With a renewed outburst._] Oh, Nicko! Poor Nicko! Poor Nicko!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Sitting beside her and taking her hand consolingly._] By George, he's a brick, isn't he!

LILY.

[_After a pause, drying her eyes._] Eddie----

FARNCOMBE.

Yes?

LILY.

If-- if ever we marry----

FARNCOMBE.

[_His jaw falling._] _If----!_

LILY.

W-w-when, then. When we marry, you'll be obliged to resign your commission in the Guards, won't you?

FARNCOMBE.

[_Snapping his fingers._] P'sh! I shan't care a rap about that.

LILY.

[_Snatching her hand away._] The snobs! The snobs! They'd let you marry any bit of trash in your own set; but a Pandora girl, though she's as pure as the Queen of England----! Oh, the contemptible snobs!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Regaining possession of her hand._] H'sh! H'sh! It-- it's the practice----

LILY.

Blow the practice! A cheerful reflection for _me_, it'll be. The arrant snobs!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Stroking her hand._] Ah! Ah!

LILY.

And then-- poor mother! You-- you won't be very proud of poor mother.

FARNCOMBE.

Your mother? [_Boyishly._] Oh, she-- she's an awfully good sort.

LILY.

She hasn't an H. to her name.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Inadvertently._] She _oughtn't_ to have.

LILY.

[_Withdrawing her hand again, sharply._] She calls herself _H_upjohn, you mean!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Distressed._] No, no, no. [_In a difficulty._] Er-- at any rate, h's don't lead you to heaven, do they?

LILY.

[_Gloomily._] You're right; mother's lead _her_ to _'eaven_. [_Rising and walking away._] Well, you'd better go now.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Rising._] And to-night----?

LILY.

No; I'll come home alone.

FARNCOMBE.

Lily----!

LILY.

[_Imperatively._] Please----!

FARNCOMBE.

When----?

LILY.

[_Moving to the door on the left._] Not for two or three days. Give me time to shake down over this.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Taking up his hat and cane which he has left upon the centre table._] Sunday?

LILY.

[_Fretfully._] No.

FARNCOMBE.

Monday?

LILY.

[_Opening the door._] No.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Joining her at the door._] Tuesday?

LILY.

[_Appealingly._] I-- I'll write. [_Again he takes her hand, she keeping him at a distance. He attempts to lessen the distance, but she checks him, shaking her head._] Not just yet, Eddie. [_He smiles at her tenderly and, with a bow, departs. From the doorway, she watches him disappear; then she shuts the door and wanders listlessly to the door of the bedroom. Her hand lingers upon the knob for a moment, and then she opens the door a little way and calls._] Mother! Mother----!

[_She leaves the door and is returning to the settee when MRS. UPJOHN
enters._

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_All agog._] Yes, Lil? [_LILY seats herself upon the settee without speaking._] Yes, dearie; yes? [_Advancing to the centre table._] 'Ave they given you your choice?

LILY.

[_Dully._] No; they've given me no choice.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Advancing further._] Wot----?

LILY.

Nicko's going out to South Africa, mother.

MRS. UPJOHN.

South Africa!

LILY.

Well, to Rhodesia.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Then you're free, Lil!

LILY.

No, I'm not.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Not!

LILY.

Nicko-- Nicko's handed me over, mother.

MRS. UPJOHN.

'Anded you over!

LILY.

To-- to Lord Farncombe.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Gasping._] An' you an' the young gentleman----!

LILY.

I-- I suppose so.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Oh--! [_Sinking into the arm chair by the centre table._] Oh, the dear Captain!

LILY.

[_Transferring herself from the settee to MRS. UPJOHN'S lap._] Oh! Oh! Oh! [_Putting her arms round MRS. UPJOHN'S neck._] Oh, poor Nicko!

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Soothingly._] 'E'll 'ave 'is reward, Lil; 'e'll 'ave 'is reward 'ereafter.

LILY.

And poor Carlton Smythe! Oh, poor Carlton!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Poor Carlton----?

LILY.

He's losing every one of his best girls, mother. Gwennie Harker-- Maidie Trevail-- Eva Shafto-- and now _me_! Oh, poor Carlton!

MRS. UPJOHN.

'Ush, dearie; 'ush! Don't consider _'im_! [_Rocking LILY to and fro like a baby._] Think-- think wot a lot o' good you're all doin' to the aristocracy!

[_The door on the left opens and JIMMIE and ROPER look in gleefully
and then tiptoe towards LILY and MRS. UPJOHN._

THE END.

_All applications respecting amateur performances of this play must be made to Sir Arthur Pinero's agents, Samuel French, Limited, Southampton St., London, W.C._

Printed By
Ballantyne & Company Ltd
At The Ballantyne Press
Tavistock Street Covent Garden
London

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

ERRATA (noted by transcriber)

First Act:
I prophesy that Mr. Morgan's picture
_text has comma for period_
N-n-o, thank you, Captain, and I-- I'm afraid----
_text has "I I-I'm afraid----": changed to match all others_

Second Act:
STIDULPH has seated himself wearily in the armchair
_text unchanged: everywhere else hyphenated "arm-chair"_
It _is_ a pleasure, meeting all you girls to-night.
_hyphen invisible_
Karl----
_text has no visible punctuation after "Karl"_

Third Act:
[_Gazing at DAPHNE stupidly ..._
_"at" printed in Roman (non-italic) type_
Say you'll take time to consider.
_final period missing or invisible_

End of Project Gutenberg's The 'Mind the Paint' Girl, by Arthur Pinero