Plays : First Series. Galsworthy John
you did the room in which the box was left; you were alone in the room. I find the box 'ere. You say you did n't take it?
MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, of course I say I did not take it, because I did not.
SNOW. Then how does the box come to be here?
MRS. JONES. I would rather not say anything about it.
SNOW. Is this your husband?
MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, this is my husband, sir.
SNOW. Do you wish to say anything before I take her?
[JONES remains silent, with his head bend down.]
Well then, Missis. I 'll just trouble you to come along with me quietly.
MRS. JONES. [Twisting her hands.] Of course I would n't say I had n't taken it if I had – and I did n't take it, indeed I did n't. Of course I know appearances are against me, and I can't tell you what really happened: But my children are at school, and they'll be coming home – and I don't know what they'll do without me.
SNOW. Your 'usband'll see to them, don't you worry. [He takes the woman gently by the arm.]
JONES. You drop it – she's all right! [Sullenly.] I took the thing myself.
SNOW. [Eyeing him] There, there, it does you credit. Come along, Missis.
JONES. [Passionately.] Drop it, I say, you blooming teck. She's my wife; she 's a respectable woman. Take her if you dare!
SNOW. Now, now. What's the good of this? Keep a civil tongue, and it'll be the better for all of us.
[He puts his whistle in his mouth and draws the woman to the door.]
JONES. [With a rush.] Drop her, and put up your 'ands, or I 'll soon make yer. You leave her alone, will yer! Don't I tell yer, I took the thing myself.
SNOW. [Blowing his whistle.] Drop your hands, or I 'll take you too. Ah, would you?
[JONES, closing, deals him a blow. A Policeman in uniform appears; there is a short struggle and JONES is overpowered. MRS. JONES raises her hands avid drops her face on them.]
The curtain falls.
SCENE II
The BARTHWICKS' dining-room the same evening. The BARTHWICKS are seated at dessert.
MRS. BARTHWICK. John! [A silence broken by the cracking of nuts.]
John!
BARTHWICK. I wish you'd speak about the nuts they're uneatable.
[He puts one in his mouth.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. It's not the season for them. I called on the Holyroods.
[BARTHWICK fills his glass with port.]
JACK. Crackers, please, Dad.
[BARTHWICK passes the crackers. His demeanour is reflective.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. Lady Holyrood has got very stout. I 've noticed it coming for a long time.
BARTHWICK. [Gloomily.] Stout? [He takes up the crackers – with transparent airiness.] The Holyroods had some trouble with their servants, had n't they?
JACK. Crackers, please, Dad.
BARTHWICK. [Passing the crackers.] It got into the papers. The cook, was n't it?
MRS. BARTHWICK. No, the lady's maid. I was talking it over with Lady Holyrood. The girl used to have her young man to see her.
BARTHWICK. [Uneasily.] I'm not sure they were wise —
MRS. BARTHWICK. My dear John, what are you talking about? How could there be any alternative? Think of the effect on the other servants!
BARTHWICK. Of course in principle – I wasn't thinking of that.
JACK. [Maliciously.] Crackers, please, Dad.
[BARTHWICK is compelled to pass the crackers.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. Lady Holyrood told me: "I had her up," she said; "I said to her, 'You'll leave my house at once; I think your conduct disgraceful. I can't tell, I don't know, and I don't wish to know, what you were doing. I send you away on principle; you need not come to me for a character.' And the girl said: 'If you don't give me my notice, my lady, I want a month's wages. I'm perfectly respectable. I've done nothing.'"' – Done nothing!
BARTHWICK. H'm!
MRS. BARTHWICK. Servants have too much license. They hang together so terribly you never can tell what they're really thinking; it's as if they were all in a conspiracy to keep you in the dark. Even with Marlow, you feel that he never lets you know what's really in his mind. I hate that secretiveness; it destroys all confidence. I feel sometimes I should like to shake him.
JACK. Marlow's a most decent chap. It's simply beastly every one knowing your affairs.
BARTHWICK. The less you say about that the better!
MRS. BARTHWICK. It goes all through the lower classes. You can not tell when they are speaking the truth. To-day when I was shopping after leaving the Holyroods, one of these unemployed came up and spoke to me. I suppose I only had twenty yards or so to walk to the carnage, but he seemed to spring up in the street.
BARTHWICK. Ah! You must be very careful whom you speak to in these days.
MRS. BARTHWICK. I did n't answer him, of course. But I could see at once that he wasn't telling the truth.
BARTHWICK. [Cracking a nut.] There's one very good rule – look at their eyes.
JACK. Crackers, please, Dad.
BARTHWICK. [Passing the crackers.] If their eyes are straight-forward I sometimes give them sixpence. It 's against my principles, but it's most difficult to refuse. If you see that they're desperate, and dull, and shifty-looking, as so many of them are, it's certain to mean drink, or crime, or something unsatisfactory.
MRS. BARTHWICK. This man had dreadful eyes. He looked as if he could commit a murder. "I 've 'ad nothing to eat to-day," he said. Just like that.
BARTHWICK. What was William about? He ought to have been waiting.
JACK. [Raising his wine-glass to his nose.] Is this the '63, Dad?
[BARTHWICK, holding his wine-glass to his eye, lowers it and passes it before his nose.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. I hate people that can't speak the truth. [Father and son exchange a look behind their port.] It 's just as easy to speak the truth as not. I've always found it easy enough. It makes it impossible to tell what is genuine; one feels as if one were continually being taken in.
BARTHWICK. [Sententiously.] The lower classes are their own enemies. If they would only trust us, they would get on so much better.
MRS. BARTHWICK. But even then it's so often their own fault. Look at that Mrs. Jones this morning.
BARTHWICK. I only want to do what's right in that matter. I had occasion to see Roper this afternoon. I mentioned it to him. He's coming in this evening. It all depends on what the detective says. I've had my doubts. I've been thinking it over.
MRS. BARTHWICK. The woman impressed me most unfavourably. She seemed to have no shame. That affair she was talking about – she and the man when they were young, so immoral! And before you and Jack! I could have put her out of the room!
BARTHWICK. Oh! I don't want to excuse them, but in looking at these matters one must consider —
MRS. BARTHWICK. Perhaps you'll say the man's employer was wrong in dismissing him?
BARTHWICK. Of course not. It's not there that I feel doubt. What I ask myself is —
JACK. Port, please, Dad.
BARTHWICK. [Circulating the decanter in religious imitation of the rising and setting of the sun.] I ask myself whether we are sufficiently careful in making inquiries about people before we engage them, especially as regards moral conduct.
JACK. Pass the-port, please, Mother!
MRS. BARTHWICK.