Three Plays by Granville-Barker. Granville-Barker Harley
on arranging the roses but says cheerily. .
mr. voysey. Good morning, my dear boy.
edward has little of his father in him and that little is undermost. It is a refined face but self-consciousness takes the place in it of imagination and in suppressing traits of brutality in his character it looks as if the young man had suppressed his sense of humour too. But whether or no, that would not be much in evidence now, for edward is obviously going through some experience which is scaring him (there is no better word). He looks not to have slept for a night or two, and his standing there, clutching and unclutching the bundle of papers he carries, his eyes on his father, half appealingly but half accusingly too, his whole being altogether so unstrung and desperate, makes mr. voysey's uninterrupted arranging of the flowers seem very calculated indeed. At last the little tension of silence is broken.
edward. Father . .
mr. voysey. Well?
edward. I'm glad to see you.
This is a statement of fact. He doesn't know that the commonplace phrase sounds ridiculous at such a moment.
mr. voysey. I see you've the papers there.
edward. Yes.
mr. voysey. You've been through them?
edward. As you wished me . .
mr. voysey. Well? [edward doesn't answer. Reference to the papers seems to overwhelm him with shame. mr. voysey goes on with cheerful impatience.] Come, come, my dear boy, you mustn't take it like this. You're puzzled and worried, of course. But why didn't you come down to me on Saturday night? I expected you . . I told you to come. Then your mother was wondering, of course, why you weren't with us for dinner yesterday.
edward. I went through all the papers twice. I wanted to make quite sure.
mr. voysey. Sure of what? I told you to come to me.
edward. [he is very near crying.] Oh, father.
mr. voysey. Now look here, Edward, I'm going to ring and dispose of these letters. Please pull yourself together. [He pushes the little button on his table.]
edward. I didn't leave my rooms all day yesterday.
mr. voysey. A pleasant Sunday! You must learn whatever the business may be to leave it behind you at the Office. Why, life's not worth living else.
peacey comes in to find mr. voysey before the fire ostentatiously warming and rubbing his hands.
Oh, there isn't much else, Peacey. Tell Simmons that if he satisfies you about the details of this lease it'll be all right. Make a note for me of Mr. Grainger's address at Mentone. I shall have several letters to dictate to Atkinson. I'll whistle for him.
peacey. Mr. Burnett . . Burnett v Marks had just come in, Mr. Edward.
edward. [without turning.] It's only fresh instructions. Will you take them?
peacey. All right.
peacey goes, lifting his eyebrow at the queerness of edward's manner. This mr. voysey sees, returning to his table with a little scowl.
mr. voysey. Now sit down. I've given you a bad forty-eight hours, it seems. Well, I've been anxious about you. Never mind, we'll thresh the thing out now. Go through the two accounts. Mrs. Murberry's first . . how do you find it stands?
edward. [his feelings choking him.] I hoped you were playing some trick on me.
mr. voysey. Come now.
edward separates the papers precisely and starts to detail them; his voice quite toneless. Now and then his father's sharp comments ring out in contrast.
edward. We've got the lease of her present house, several agreements . . and here's her will. Here's also a sometime expired power of attorney over her securities and her property generally . . it was for six months.
mr. voysey. She was in South Africa.
edward. Here's the Sheffield mortgage and the Henry Smith mortgage with Banker's receipts . . hers to us for the interest up to date . . four and a half and five per cent. Then . . Fretworthy Bonds. There's a memorandum in your writing that they are at the Bank; but you didn't say what Bank.
mr. voysey. My own . . Stukeley's.
edward. [just dwelling on the words.] Your own. I marked that with a query. There's eight thousand five hundred in three and a half India stock. And there are her Banker's receipts for cheques on account of those dividends. I presume for those dividends.
mr. voysey. Why not?
edward. [gravely.] Because then, Father, there are Banker's half yearly receipts for sums amounting to an average of four hundred and twenty pounds a year. But I find no record of any capital to produce this.
mr. voysey. Go on. What do you find?
edward. Till about three years back there seems to have been eleven thousand in Queenslands which would produce—did produce exactly the same sum. But after January of that year I find no record of this.
mr. voysey. In fact the Queenslands are missing?
edward. [hardly uttering the word.] Yes.
mr. voysey. From which you conclude?
edward. I concluded at first that you had not handed me all the papers connected with——
mr. voysey. Since Mrs. Murberry evidently gets another four twenty a year somehow; lucky woman.
edward. [in agony.] Oh!
mr. voysey. Well, we'll return to the good lady later. Now let's take the other.
edward. The Hatherley Trust.
mr. voysey. Quite so.
edward. [with one accusing glance.] Trust.
mr. voysey. Go on.
edward. Oh, father . .
His grief comes uppermost again and mr. voysey meets it kindly.
mr. voysey. I know, my dear boy. I shall have lots to say to you. But let's get quietly through with these details first.
edward. [bitterly now.] Oh, this is simple enough. We're young Hatherley's only trustees till his coming of age in about five years' time. The property was eighteen thousand invested in Consols. Certain sums were to be allowed for his education; these have been and are still being paid. There is no record as to the rest of the capital.
mr. voysey. None?
edward. Yes . . I beg your pardon, sir. There's a memorandum to refer to the Bletchley Land Scheme.
mr. voysey. That must be ten years ago. But he's credited with the interest on his capital?
edward. On paper, sir. The balance was to be reinvested. There's a partial account in your hand writing. He's credited with the Consol interest.
mr. voysey. Quite so.
edward. I think I've heard you say that the Bletchley scheme paid seven and a half.
mr. voysey. At one time. Have you taken the trouble to calculate what will be due from us to the lad?
edward. Capital and compound interest … about twenty six thousand pounds.
mr. voysey. Yes, it's a large sum. In five years' time?
edward. When he comes of age.
mr. voysey. Well, that gives us, say four years and six months in which to think about it.
edward waits, hopelessly, for his father to speak again; then says . .
edward. Thank you for showing me these, sir. Shall I put them back in