Second Plays Part 76

STRANGER (retreating nervously). No offence meant, mate. We're in the same boat--you and me; we don't want to get fighting. My quarrel isn't with you. You go and tell Sir John that there's a gentleman come to see him--wants a few minutes of his valuable time--from Lambeth way.

_He'll_ know. That's all right.

PERKINS (drawing back, disappointedly). Then I shan't be seeing you Sunday afternoon?

STRANGER (laughing awkwardly). There, that's all right. No offence meant. Somebody from Lambeth--that's what _you've_ got to say. And tell 'im I'm in a hurry. _He'll_ know what I mean.

PERKINS (going slowly to the door). Well, it's a queer game, but being in the 'Ouse of Commons, one can't never be surprised. All sorts, as you might say, _all_ sorts.

[Exit PERKINS.

(THE STRANGER, left alone, walks up and down the room, nervously impatient.)

(LADY PEMBURY comes in. In twenty-eight years of happy married life, she has mothered one husband and five daughters, but she has never had a son--her only sorrow. Her motto might be, "It is just as easy to be kind"; and whether you go to her for comfort or congratulation, you will come away feeling that she is the only person who really understands.)

LADY PEMBURY. Oh! (She stops and then comes towards THE STRANGER) How do you do? Are you waiting to see my husband?

STRANGER (taken aback at seeing her). Yes.

(He is not sure for the moment if this upsets his plans or forwards them.)

LADY PEMBURY. I think he's engaged just now. But he won't be long.

Perkins will tell him as soon as he is free.

STRANGER (contemptuously). His name is Perkins, is it?

LADY PEMBURY (surprised). The butler? Yes.

STRANGER (contemptuously). Mister Perkins, the Butler.

LADY PEMBURY (with a friendly smile). You don't _mind_ our having a butler? (She picks up some work from the table and takes it to the sofa)

STRANGER (shrugging his shoulders). One more parasite.

LADY PEMBURY (interested). I always thought parasites were much smaller than Perkins. (Sitting down) Do sit down, won't you? (He sits down reluctantly.) You mustn't mind my being here. This is really my work-room. I expect my husband will take you into his own room when he's ready.

STRANGER. Your work-room?

LADY PEMBURY (looking up at him with a smile). You don't seem to like our domestic arrangements.

STRANGER (waving his hand at her embroidery). You call that work?

LADY PEMBURY (pleasantly). Other people's work always seems so contemptible, doesn't it? Now I expect if you tried to do this, you would find it very difficult indeed, and if I tried to do yours--what _is_ your work, Mr.--er--Dear me, I don't even know your name.

STRANGER (bitterly). Never mind my name. Take it that I haven't got a name.

LADY PEMBURY. But your friends must call you something.

STRANGER. Take it that I haven't got any friends.

LADY PEMBURY. Oh, _don't_ say that! How _can_ you?

STRANGER (surly). What's it matter to you whether anybody cares about me?

LADY PEMBURY. Oh, never mind whether anybody cares about _you_; don't _you_ care about anybody?

STRANGER. n.o.body.

LADY PEMBURY. Poor, poor man! (Going on with her work) If you can't tell me your name, I wish you would tell me what work you do.

(Winningly) You don't mind my asking, do you?

STRANGER. I can tell you what work I'm going to do after to-day.

LADY PEMBURY. Oh, do!

STRANGER (violently). None!

LADY PEMBURY (surprised). None?

STRANGER. No more work after to-day.

LADY PEMBURY. Won't that be rather dull?

STRANGER. Well, _you_ ought to know. I'm going to be one of the idle rich--like you and Sir John--and let other people work for me.

LADY PEMBURY (thoughtfully). I shouldn't have said my husband was idle. But there it is. No two people ever agree as to what is work and what isn't.

STRANGER. What do you know about work--you aristocrats?

LADY PEMBURY (mildly). My husband is only a K.B.E., you know. Quite a recent creation.

STRANGER (not heeding her). You, who've been brought up in the lap of luxury--never known a day's discomfort in your life----

LADY PEMBURY. My dear young man, you really mustn't tell a woman who has had five children that she has never known a day's discomfort in her life. . . . Ask any woman.

STRANGER (upset). What's that? . . . I didn't come here to argue with you. You began it. Why can't you let me alone?

LADY PEMBURY (going to a side-table and taking up a photograph). Five children--all girls--and now I'm a grandmother. (Showing him the photograph) There! That's my eldest daughter with her eldest son and my eldest grandchild. Isn't he a duck? He's supposed to be like me. . . .

I never had a son of my own. (THE STRANGER has taken the photograph in his hand and is holding it awkwardly.) Oh, let me take it away from you. Other's people's relations are so uninteresting, aren't they?

(She takes it away and puts it back in its place. Then she returns to her seat and goes on with her work.) So you've made a lot of money?

How exciting for you!

STRANGER (grimly). I haven't got it yet, but it's coming.

LADY PEMBURY. Soon?

STRANGER. To-day.

LADY PEMBURY. You're not married, are you?