The Red House Mystery and Other Novels. A. A. Milne
too proud or too obstinate to ask for help--hadn't you any idea, _any_ of you?
GERALD (awkwardly). You never could get him to talk about the City at all. If you asked him, he changed the subject.
PAMELA (reproachfully). Ah! but how did you ask him? Lightly? Jokingly? "Hullo, Rothschild, how's the City getting on?" That sort of way. You didn't really mind.
GERALD (smiling). Well, if it comes to that, he didn't much mind how I was getting on at the Foreign Office. He never even said, "Hullo, Grey, how are Balkans?"
PAMELA. You had plenty of people to say that; Bob was different. I think I was the first person he really talked to about himself. That was before I met you. I begged him then to get out of it-- little knowing. I wonder if it would have made any difference if you had gone up with him on--Oh, well, it doesn't matter now.
GERALD (defensively). What were you going to say?
PAMELA. Nothing. (Looking at him thoughtfully) Poor Gerald! it's been bad for you too.
GERALD. You're not making it better by suggesting that I've let Bob down in some way--I don't quite know how.
PAMELA (in distress). Oh, Gerald, don't be angry with me--I don't want to hurt you. But I can only think of Bob now. You're so--you want so little; Bob wants so much. Why doesn't he come? I sent a note round to his rooms to say that I'd be here. Doesn't he have lunch here? Oh, Gerald, suppose the case is over, and they've taken him to prison, and I've never said good-bye to him. He said it wouldn't be over till this evening, but how would he know? Oh, I can't bear it if they've taken him away, and his only friend never said good-bye to him.
GERALD. Pamela, Pamela, don't be so silly. It's all right, dear; of course I'm not angry with you. And of course Bob will be here. I rang up Wentworth an hour ago, and he said the case can't end till this evening.
PAMELA (recovering). Sorry, Gerald, I'm being rather a fool.
GERALD (taking her hands). You're being--(There is a knock at the door, and he turns round impatiently) Oh, what is it?
[Enter MASON.]
MASON (handing note). There's a telephone message been waiting for you, sir. And her ladyship will be down directly.
GERALD. Thank you, Nanny. [Exit MASON.] (To PAMELA) May I? (He reads it) Oh, I say, this is rather--this is from Wentworth. He's taken Bob round to lunch with him.
PAMELA (going towards the door). I must go, Gerald. Mr. Wentworth won't mind.
GERALD (stopping her). Look here, dear, it's going to be quite all right. Wentworth rang up from his rooms; they're probably halfway through lunch by now, and they'll be round in ten minutes.
PAMELA. Supposing he doesn't come? Supposing he didn't get my note? It may be waiting for him in his rooms now.
GERALD. All right, then, darling, I'll ring him up.
PAMELA (determined). No. I'll do it. Yes, Gerald, I know how to manage him. It isn't only that I must see him myself, but if-- (bravely) if the case is to be over this evening, and if what we fear is going to happen, he must--oh, he must say good-bye to his mother too.
GERALD. Well, if that's all, I'll tell him.
PAMELA. He mightn't come for you. He will for me; No, Gerald; I mean it. None of you understand him. I do.
GERALD. But supposing he's already started and you miss him?
PAMELA. I'll telephone to him at his rooms. Oh, _don't_ stand there talking--
GERALD (opening the door for her). Oh, well! But I think you're-- [She has gone.]
(He walks up and down the room absently, picking up papers and putting them down. MASON comes in and arranges the sofa R.)
MASON. Miss Pamela gone, Master Gerald?
GERALD. She's coming back.
[Enter LADY FARRINGDON.]
LADY FARRINGDON. Oh, Gerald, I hoped you'd be here.
GERALD (kissing her). I've only just got away. I couldn't get round to the court. (Seeing her to the sofa) You're all right, dear? [Exit MASON.]
LADY FARRINGDON. Now you're here, Gerald. I telegraphed for Mason. She's such a comfort. How nicely she's done the flowers! (She sits down on the sofa.)
GERALD. I'm so glad you sent for her.
LADY FARRINGDON. I don't think your father--
[Enter SIR JAMES.]
SIR JAMES. Ah, Gerald, I had to take your mother out. She was--ah-- overcome. They have adjourned, I suppose?
GERALD. Yes. The judge is summing up directly after lunch. Bob will be round here when he's had something to eat.
SIR JAMES (looking at his watch). Well, I suppose we ought to try and eat something.
LADY FARRINGDON. I couldn't touch anything.
GERALD (going over to her). Poor mother!
LADY FARRINGDON. Oh, Gerald, couldn't _you_ do anything? I'm sure if you'd gone into the witness-box, or told the judge--Oh, why didn't you go to the Bar, and then you could have defended him. You would have been so much better than that stupid man.
SIR JAMES. I must say I didn't at all like his tone. He's practically making out my son to be an idiot.
GERALD. Well, it's really the only line he could take.
SIR JAMES. What do you mean? Bob is far from being an idiot.
LADY FARRINGDON. We always knew he wasn't as clever as Gerald, dear.
GERALD. You see, Bob either understood what was going on or he didn't. If he did, then he's in it as much as Marcus. If he didn't-- well, of course we know that he didn't. But no doubt the jury will think that he ought to have known.
SIR JAMES. The old story, a knave or a fool, eh?
GERALD. The folly was in sending him there.
SIR JAMES (angrily). That was Parkinson's fault. It was he who recommended Marcus to me. I shall never speak to that man again. (To his wife) Mary, if the Parkinsons call, you are out; remember that.
GERALD. He never ought to have gone into business at all. Why couldn't you have had him taught farming or estate agency or something?
SIR JAMES. We've got to move with the times, my boy. Land is played out as a living for gentlemen; they go into business nowadays. If he can't get on there, it's his own fault. He went to Eton and Oxford; what more does he want?
LADY FARRINGDON (to GERALD). You must remember he isn't clever like you, Gerald.
GERALD. Oh, well, it's no good talking about it now. Poor old Bob! Wentworth thinks--
SIR JAMES. Ah, now why couldn't Wentworth have defended him? That other man--why, to begin with, I don't even call him a gentleman.
GERALD. Wentworth recommended him. But I wish he had gone to Wentworth before, as soon as he knew what was coming.
SIR JAMES. Why didn't he come to _me_? Why didn't he come to _any_ of us? Then we might have done something.