The Second Mrs. Tanqueray - novelonlinefull.com
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[_Taking his hand._] We have spoken too freely of--of Mrs. Jarman. I was excited--angry. Please forget it!
DRUMMLE.
My dear Aubrey, when we next meet I shall remember nothing but my respect for the lady who bears your name.
MORSE _enters, closing the door behind him carefully._
AUBREY.
What is it?
MORSE.
[_Hesitatingly._] May I speak to you, Sir? [_In an undertone._] Mrs.
Jarman, sir.
AUBREY.
[_Softly to_ MORSE.] Mrs. Jarman! Do you mean she is at the lodge in her carriage?
MORSE.
No, sir--here. [AUBREY _looks towards_ DRUMMLE, _perplexed._]
There's a nice fire in your--in that room, sir. [_Glancing in the direction of the door leading to the bedroom._]
AUBREY.
[_Between his teeth, angrily._] Very well.
[MORSE _retires._
DRUMMLE.
[_Looking at his watch._] A quarter to eleven--horrible! [_Taking up his hat and coat._] Must get to bed--up late every night this week.
[AUBREY _a.s.sists_ DRUMMLE _with his coat._] Thank you. Well, good-night, Aubrey. I feel I've been dooced serious, quite out of keeping with myself; pray overlook it.
AUBREY.
[_Kindly._] Ah, Cayley!
DRUMMLE.
[_Putting on a neck-handkerchief._] And remember that, after all, I'm merely a spectator in life; nothing more than a man at a play, in fact; only, like the old-fashioned playgoer, I love to see certain characters happy and comfortable at the finish. You understand?
AUBREY.
I think I do.
DRUMMLE.
Then, for as long as you can, old friend, will you--keep a stall for me?
AUBREY.
Yes, Cayley.
DRUMMLE.
[_Gaily._] Ah, ha! Good-night! [_Bustling to the door._] Don't bother! I'll let myself out! Good-night! G.o.d bless yer!
[_He goes out_; AUBREY _follows him._ MORSE _enters by the other door, carrying some unopened letters which after a little consideration he places on the mantelpiece against the clock._ AUBREY _returns._
AUBREY.
Yes?
MORSE.
You hadn't seen your letters that came by the nine o'clock post, sir; I've put 'em where they'll catch your eye by-and-by.
AUBREY.
Thank you.
MORSE.
[_Hesitatingly._] Gunter's cook and waiter have gone, sir. Would you prefer me to go to bed?
AUBREY.
[_Frowning._] Certainly not.
MORSE.
Very well, sir.
[_He goes out._
AUBREY.
[_Opening the upper door_] Paula! Paula!
PAULA _enters and throws her arms round his neck. She is a young woman of about twenty-seven: beautiful, fresh, innocent-looking. She is in superb evening dress._
PAULA.
Dearest!
AUBREY.
