Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honour. Maugham William Somerset
Gerald he could have till to-morrow.
Obviously he wants to settle with you as soon as ever he can.
[Quietly.] I often wonder why gambling debts are known as debts of honour.
[Looking at him steadily.] Of course I realise that if you choose to press for the money and Gerald can't pay – he'll have to send in his papers.
[Lightly.] You may be quite sure I have no wish to bring about such a calamity. By the way, have you thought over our little talk of last night?
No.
You would have been wise to do so.
My dear Captain Montgomerie, you really can't expect me to marry you because my brother has been so foolish as to lose more money at poker than he can afford.
Did you ever hear that my father was a money-lender?
A lucrative profession, I believe.
He found it so. He was a Polish Jew called Aaron Levitzki. He came to this country with three shillings in his pocket. He lent half-a-crown of it to a friend on the condition that he should be paid back seven and six in three days.
I'm not good at figures, but the interest sounds rather high.
It is. That was one of my father's specialities. From these humble beginnings his business grew to such proportions that at his death he was able to leave me the name and arms of the great family of Montgomerie and something over a million of money.
The result of thrift, industry, and good fortune.
My father was able to gratify all his ambitions but one. He was eaten up with the desire to move in good society, and this he was never able to achieve. His dying wish was that I should live in those circles which he knew only…
Across the counter?
Precisely. But my poor father was a little ignorant in these matters. To him one lord was as good as another. He thought a Marquess a finer man than an Earl, and a Viscount than a Baron. He would never have understood that a penniless Irish baronet might go into better society than many a belted earl.
And what is the application of this?
I wanted to explain to you one of the reasons which emboldened me last night to make you a proposal of marriage.
But surely you know some very nice people. I saw you lunching the other day with the widow of a city knight.
Many very excellent persons are glad to have me to dine with them. But I know quite well that they're not the real article. I'm as far off as ever from getting into those houses which you have been used to all your life. I'm not content with third-rate earls and rather seedy dowagers.
Forgive my frankness, but – aren't you rather a snob?
My father, Aaron Levitzki, married an English woman, and I have all the English virtues.
But I'm not quite sure that people would swallow you even as my husband.
They'd make a face, but they'd swallow me right enough. And when I asked them down to the best shoot in England they'd come to the conclusion that I agreed with them very well.
[Still rather amused.] Your offer is eminently businesslike, but you see I'm not a business woman. It doesn't appeal to me.
I only ask you to perform such of the duties of a wife as are required by Society. They are few enough in all conscience. I should wish you to entertain largely and receive my guests, be polite to me, at least in public, and go with me to the various places people go to. Otherwise I leave you entire freedom. You will find me generous and heedful to all your wishes.
Captain Montgomerie, I don't know how much of all that you have said is meant seriously. But, surely you're not choosing the right time to make such a proposal when my brother owes you so much money that if you care to be hard you can ruin him.
Why not?
D'you mean to say…?
I will be quite frank with you. I should never have allowed Gerald to lose so much money which there was no likelihood of his being able to pay, if I had not thought it earned me some claim upon your gratitude.
[Shortly.] Gerald will pay every penny he owes you to-morrow.
[Blandly.] Where d'you suppose he'll get it?
I have no doubt I shall be able to manage something.
Have you not tried this morning, entirely without success?
[Startled.] What?
You do not forget that you have sundry moneys of your own which are payable to-morrow?
How d'you know that?
I told you that when I took a thing in hand I carried it through. You went to Dick Cohen, and he told you he'd parted with the bills. Didn't you guess that only one man could have the least interest in taking them over?
You?
Yes.
Oh, God.
Come, come, don't be worried over it. There's nothing to be alarmed about. I'm a very decent chap – if you'd accepted me right away you would never have known that those bills were in my possession. Think it over once more. I'm sure we should get on well together. I can give you what you most need, money and the liberty to fling it away as recklessly as you choose; you can give me the assured and fixed position on which – my father's heart was set.
And if I don't accept, you'll make me a bankrupt and you'll ruin Gerald?
I refuse to consider that very unpleasant alternative.
Oh! I can't, I can't.
[Laughing.] But you must, you must. When shall I come for your answer? To-morrow? I'll come with the bills and Gerald's I.O.U. in my pocket, and you shall burn them yourself. Good-bye.
[Going to her eagerly.] Hulloa! I wondered what on earth had become of you.
[With a laugh.] It's only two hours since I chased you away from me.
I'm afraid I bore you to death.
Don't be so silly. You know you don't.
Where are you going now?
I have rather a headache. I'm going to lie down.
I'm