The Complete Plays of J. M. Barrie - 30 Titles in One Edition. Джеймс Барри

The Complete Plays of J. M. Barrie - 30 Titles in One Edition - Джеймс Барри


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Then try to do some work here now. I am going to have a cigar and big think over you.

      PROFESSOR. No use. And you mustn’t smoke here. Bad for the machines. Go to the drawingroom if you want to smoke.

      COSENS. All right! I have solved some stiff cases with the help of a cigar.

      PROFESSOR. It can’t possibly tell you why I am unable to work nowadays.

      COSENS. It shall! Here is what I have to place before it. My friend, Goodwillie, is an enthusiastic electrician, whose work has hitherto engrossed him to such an extent that it has become his world. Within the last month, however, he has been unable to give his mind to his work.

      PROFESSOR. Can’t do it, can’t do it.

      COSENS. The question therefore is: has he given his mind to something else — something that now engrosses him more than electricity?

      PROFESSOR. Nonsense, you are insulting my work, Dick!

      COSENS. The cigar has got to tell me what that something is. Can I help it? Yes, to an extent. I can tell it that the only change which has come into your life of late is that your sister has not been here as usual to look after you. Now is that sufficient to account for your breakdown?

      PROFESSOR. Pooh, Dick, pooh! She has left me alone before.

      COSENS. And you are positive that there has been no other change in your life since she went to Tullochmains?

      PROFESSOR. Absolutely none.

      (COSENS rings hell.)

      Now, why did you do that?

      COSENS. I want Miss White — to ask her some questions.

      PROFESSOR. Miss White? What can Miss White tell you about me?

      COSENS. I don’t know — but she puzzles me.

      (Enter EFFIE.)

      Effie, send Miss White here.

      (Exit EFFIE.)

      PROFESSOR. Miss White can have nothing to tell you. She has not been here long enough. Why, it was after Agnes left that she became my secretary.

      COSENS (excitedly). What?

      PROFESSOR. Miss White never saw me until a month ago.

      COSENS. A month ago! (Great excitement kept up by COSENS until his exit.)

      PROFESSOR. NOW why are you so excited?

      COSENS. Tom, I won’t see Miss White until I’ve had my cigar. (Going.) Oh, if it should be that! If it should be that!

      (Exit.)

      PROFESSOR (calling after him). If it should be that! If it should be what? What are you drivelling about?

      (Enter LUCY.)

      LUCY. Effie said Dr. Cosens wanted to see me.

      PROFESSOR (rising hurriedly, shakes her hand). He changed his mind, I think. Miss Lucy, I must get through some work to-day.

      (He holds her hand for a time. He places chair for her and stands looking at her.)

      LUCY. The papers are all ready. (Sitting.) I think I found a mistake on sheet B 32.

      PROFESSOR. Very likely! B 32?

      LUCY (looks through papers). Section 104. You say that Steinhall’s magneto-electric machine was introduced in 1835. Should it not be galvanometer?

      PROFESSOR. Did I write magneto?

      LUCY. Yes.

      PROFESSOR. Criminal — quite criminal!

      (A slight pause; he prepares to write.)

      LUCY. Shall I go on with the copy?

      PROFESSOR. If you please.

      (lucy looks among papers and he watches her.)

      LUCY. Have you a pen?

      PROFESSOR. Yes, take mine.

      (Gives her his own, watches her a moment, places another pen handy for her, moves water-bottle, corrects proof, hands it to her after business with blotting-pad.)

      There is the corrected sheet.

      (LUCY takes it, puts it in its place and goes on writing. He watches her, then leans back in chair reflecting. He sighs.)

      Lucy!

      LUCY. Did you speak?

      PROFESSOR. No, I don’t think so.

      (The writing is resumed, PROFESSOR watches her, sighs, then comes to himself.) I don’t seem to be able to do any work to-day.

      LUCY. I’ll sit over there. I think my being so near disturbs you. (Takes paper and pen and goes to table.)

      PROFESSOR. I don’t see how that can be; my other secretaries always sat here.

      (She writes, PROFESSOR, unable to keep his mind upon his work, finally takes papers and chair and goes over and sits at the table.)

      LUCY. You were to sit over there.

      PROFESSOR. Bless my soul, what am I doing here? (Returns to table.)

      LUCY. Did Sommering found his bi-signal alphabet on that of Schilling?

      PROFESSOR. Sommering? Never!

      LUCY. I thought not.

      PROFESSOR. Have I put Schilling before Sommering?

      LUCY. Yes.

      PROFESSOR. I used to have an intellect. I really had, Miss White. All gone, all gone!

      LUCY. There is something that I can’t make out.

      (PROFESSOR goes to her.)

      What is it that the small spring Z is joined to? (Hands him paper.)

      (COSENS enters, comes slowly in front of table and listens.)

      PROFESSOR (reading). ‘A steel spring X is connected by a copper cylinder Y with the terminal BD, and a small spring Z is joined by means of the circular bar EFG to the terminal LUCY: (PROFESSOR goes to table and takes diagram.)

      Hullo, Dick. (Looks at diagram, showing it to LUCY.) There is no LUCY in the diagram.

      LUCY. No.

      PROFESSOR. Doctor, do you see any LUCY?

      COSENS. Yes.

      PROFESSOR. Where?

      COSENS (pointing to LUCY). There.

      PROFESSOR. Eh? Oh, her name. This is no jesting matter, Dick, I must resign my chair. (Taps his brow.) Cotton wool, cotton wool.

      (COSENS lowers on LUCY, who quakes beneath his gaze. He opens door for her and she goes as if in disgrace.)

      COSENS. Tom, I’ve found out what’s the matter with you.

      PROFESSOR. What?

      COSENS. Can you stand a shock?

      PROFESSOR. Tell me the worst — quick! Is it grave?

      COSENS. It is very grave. My poor friend, you are in love. (Emphatically.)

      PROFESSOR. What! In love — I — you — how dare you, Dick? Playing with me. Very cruel.

      COSENS. Oh, I didn’t give it to you. You are in love, and at your age it’s bound to be a bad case. You ought to have had it long ago.

      PROFESSOR. Love! Horrible I (Dazed.)

      COSENS. Ah! you feel that it is true!

      PROFESSOR. Love — me! (Suddenly) Who is the woman?

      COSENS. You don’t know?

      PROFESSOR. I haven’t an idea.

      COSENS. Poor Tom!

      PROFESSOR. But it is impossible


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