Loyalties, John Galsworthy [superbooks4u .txt] 📗

shot at the brute? A law court? Pah!

WINSOR. Yes. What’ll be his position even if he wins?

BORRING. Damages, and a stain on his c-character.

WINSOR. Quite so, unless they find the real thief. People always believe the worst.

COLFORD. [Glaring at BORRING] They do.

CANYNGE. There is no decent way out of a thing of this sort.

ST ERTH. No. [Rising] It leaves a bad taste. I’m sorry for young Mrs Dancy—poor woman!

BORRING. Are you going to play any more?

ST ERTH. [Abruptly] No, sir. Good night to you. Canynge, can I give you a lift?

He goes out, followed by CANYNGE. BORRING.

[After a slight pause] Well, I shall go and take the t-temperature of the Club.

He goes out.

COLFORD. Damn that effeminate stammering chap! What can we do for Dancy, WINSOR?

WINSOR. Colford! [A slight pause] The General felt his coat sleeve that night, and it was wet.

COLFORD. Well! What proof’s that? No, by George! An old school-fellow, a brother officer, and a pal.

WINSOR. If he did do it—

COLFORD. He didn’t. But if he did, I’d stick to him, and see him through it, if I could.

WINSOR walks over to the fire, stares into it, turns round and stares at COLFORD, who is standing motionless.

COLFORD. Yes, by God!

 

CURTAIN.

 

SCENE II [NOTE.—This should be a small set capable of being set quickly within that of the previous scene.]

Morning of the following day. The DANCYS’ flat. In the sitting-room of this small abode MABEL DANCY and MARGARET ORME are sitting full face to the audience, on a couch in the centre of the room, in front of the imaginary window. There is a fireplace, Left, with fire burning; a door below it, Left; and a door on the Right, facing the audience, leads to a corridor and the outer door of the flat, which is visible. Their voices are heard in rapid exchange; then as the curtain rises, so does MABEL.

MABEL. But it’s monstrous!

MARGARET. Of course! [She lights a cigarette and hands the case to MABEL, who, however, sees nothing but her own thoughts] De Levis might just as well have pitched on me, except that I can’t jump more than six inches in these skirts.

MABEL. It’s wicked! Yesterday afternoon at the Club, did you say? Ronny hasn’t said a word to me. Why?

MARGARET. [With a long puff of smoke] Doesn’t want you bothered.

MABEL. But–-Good heavens!–-Me!

MARGARET. Haven’t you found out, Mabel, that he isn’t exactly communicative? No desperate character is.

MABEL. Ronny?

MARGARET. Gracious! Wives are at a disadvantage, especially early on. You’ve never hunted with him, my dear. I have. He takes more sudden decisions than any man I ever knew. He’s taking one now, I’ll bet.

MABEL. That beast, De Levis! I was in our room next door all the time.

MARGARET. Was the door into Ronny’s dressing-room open?

MABEL. I don’t know; I—I think it was.

MARGARET. Well, you can say so in Court any way. Not that it matters. Wives are liars by law.

MABEL. [Staring down at her] What do you mean—Court?

MARGARET. My dear, he’ll have to bring an action for defamation of character, or whatever they call it.

MABEL. Were they talking of this last night at the WINSOR’s?

MARGARET. Well, you know a dinner-table, Mabel—Scandal is heavensent at this time of year.

MABEL. It’s terrible, such a thing—terrible!

MARGARET. [Gloomily] If only Ronny weren’t known to be so broke.

MABEL. [With her hands to her forehead] I can’t realise—I simply can’t. If there’s a case would it be all right afterwards?

MARGARET. Do you remember St Offert—cards? No, you wouldn’t—you were in high frocks. Well, St Offert got damages, but he also got the hoof, underneath. He lives in Ireland. There isn’t the slightest connection, so far as I can see, Mabel, between innocence and reputation. Look at me!

MABEL. We’ll fight it tooth and nail!

MARGARET. Mabel, you’re pure wool, right through; everybody’s sorry for you.

MABEL. It’s for him they ought—

MARGARET. [Again handing the cigarette case] Do smoke, old thing.

MABEL takes a cigarette this time, but does not light it.

It isn’t altogether simple. General Canynge was there last night. You don’t mind my being beastly frank, do you?

MABEL. No. I want it.

MARGARET. Well, he’s all for esprit de corps and that. But he was awfully silent.

MABEL. I hate half-hearted friends. Loyalty comes before everything.

MARGARET. Ye-es; but loyalties cut up against each other sometimes, you know.

MABEL. I must see Ronny. D’you mind if I go and try to get him on the telephone?

MARGARET. Rather not.

MABEL goes out by the door Left.

Poor kid!

She curls herself into a corner of the sofa, as if trying to get away from life. The bell rings. MARGARET stirs, gets up, and goes out into the corridor, where she opens the door to LADY ADELA WINSOR, whom she precedes into the sitting-room.

Enter the second murderer! D’you know that child knew nothing?

LADY A. Where is she?

MARGARET. Telephoning. Adela, if there’s going to be an action, we shall be witnesses. I shall wear black georgette with an ecru hat. Have you ever given evidence?

LADY A. Never.

MARGARET. It must be too frightfully thrilling.

LADY A. Oh! Why did I ever ask that wretch De Levis? I used to think him pathetic. Meg did you know–-Ronald Dancy’s coat was wet? The General happened to feel it.

MARGARET. So that’s why he was so silent.

LADY A. Yes; and after the scene in the Club yesterday he went to see those bookmakers, and Goole—what a name!—is sure he told Dancy about the sale.

MARGARET. [Suddenly] I don’t care. He’s my third cousin. Don’t you feel you couldn’t, Adela?

LADY A. Couldn’t—what?

MARGARET. Stand for De Levis against one of ourselves?

LADY A. That’s very narrow, Meg.

MARGARET. Oh! I know lots of splendid Jews, and I rather liked little Ferdy; but when it comes to the point—! They all stick together; why shouldn’t we? It’s in the blood. Open your jugular, and see if you haven’t got it.

LADY A. My dear, my great grandmother was a Jewess. I’m very proud of her.

MARGARET. Inoculated. [Stretching herself] Prejudices, Adela—or are they loyalties—I don’t know—cris-cross—we all cut each other’s throats from the best of motives.

LADY A. Oh! I shall remember that. Delightful! [Holding up a finger] You got it from Bergson, Meg. Isn’t he wonderful?

MARGARET. Yes; have you ever read him?

LADY A. Well—No. [Looking at the bedroom door] That poor child! I quite agree. I shall tell every body it’s ridiculous. You don’t really think Ronald Dancy—?

MARGARET. I don’t know, Adela. There are people who simply can’t live without danger. I’m rather like that myself. They’re all right when they’re getting the D.S.O. or shooting man-eaters; but if there’s no excitement going, they’ll make it—out of sheer craving. I’ve seen Ronny Dancy do the maddest things for no mortal reason except the risk. He’s had a past, you know.

LADY A. Oh! Do tell!

MARGARET. He did splendidly in the war, of course, because it suited him; but—just before—don’t you remember—a very queer bit of riding?

LADY A. No.

MARGARET. Most dare-devil thing—but not quite. You must remember— it was awfully talked about. And then, of course, right up to his marriage—[She lights a cigarette.]

LADY A. Meg, you’re very tantalising!

MARGARET. A foreign-looking girl—most plummy. Oh! Ronny’s got charm —this Mabel child doesn’t know in the least what she’s got hold of!

LADY A. But they’re so fond of each other!

MARGARET. That’s the mistake. The General isn’t mentioning the coat, is he?

LADY A. Oh, no! It was only to Charles.

MABEL returns.

MARGARET. Did you get him?

MABEL. No; he’s not at Tattersall’s, nor at the Club.

LADY ADELA rises and greets her with an air which suggests bereavement.

LADY A. Nobody’s going to believe this, my dear.

MABEL. [Looking straight at her] Nobody who does need come here, or trouble to speak to us again.

LADY A. That’s what I was afraid of; you’re going to be defiant. Now don’t! Just be perfectly natural.

MABEL. So easy, isn’t it? I could kill anybody who believes such a thing.

MARGARET. You’ll want a solicitor, Mabel, Go to old Mr Jacob Twisden.

LADY A. Yes; he’s so comforting.

MARGARET. He got my pearls back once—without loss of life. A frightfully good fireside manner. Do get him here, Mabel, and have a heart-to-heart talk, all three of you!

MABEL. [Suddenly] Listen! There’s Ronny!

DANCY comes in.

DANCY. [With a smile] Very good of you to have come.

MARGARET. Yes. We’re just going. Oh! Ronny, this is quite too— [But his face dries her up; and sidling past, she goes].

LADY A. Charles sent his-love—[Her voice dwindles on the word, and she, too, goes].

DANCY. [Crossing to his wife] What have they been saying?

MABEL. Ronny! Why didn’t you tell me?

DANCY. I wanted to see De Levis again first.

MABEL. That wretch! How dare he? Darling! [She suddenly clasps and kisses him. He does not return the kiss, but remains rigid in her arms, so that she draws away and looks at him] It’s hurt you awfully, I know.

DANCY. Look here, Mabel! Apart from that muck—this is a ghastly tame-cat sort of life. Let’s cut it and get out to Nairobi. I can scare up the money for that.

MABEL. [Aghast] But how can we? Everybody would say—

RONNY. Let them! We shan’t be here.

MABEL. I couldn’t bear people to think—

DANCY. I don’t care a damn what people think monkeys and cats. I never could stand their rotten menagerie. Besides, what does it matter how I act; if I bring an action and get damages—if I pound him to a jelly— it’s all no good! I can’t prove it. There’ll be plenty of people unconvinced.

MABEL. But they’ll find the real thief.

DANCY. [With a queer little smile] Will staying here help them to do that?

MABEL. [In a sort of agony] Oh! I couldn’t—it looks like running away. We must stay and fight it!

DANCY. Suppose I didn’t get a verdict—you never can tell.

MABEL. But you must—I was there all the time, with the door open.

DANCY. Was it?

MABEL. I’m almost sure.

DANCY. Yes. But you’re my wife.

MABEL. [Bewildered] Ronny, I don’t understand—suppose I’d been accused of stealing pearls!

DANCY. [Wincing] I can’t.

MABEL. But I might—just as easily. What would you think of me if I ran away from it?

DANCY. I see. [A pause] All right! You shall have a run for your money. I’ll go and see old Twisden.

MABEL. Let me come! [DANCY shakes his head] Why not? I can’t be happy a moment unless I’m fighting this.

DANCY puts out his hand suddenly and grips hers.

DANCY. You are a little brick!

MABEL. [Pressing his hand to her breast and looking into his face] Do you know what Margaret called you?

RONNY. No.

MABEL. A desperate character.

DANCY. Ha! I’m not a tame cat, any more than she.

The bell rings. MABEL goes out to the door and her voice is heard saying coldly.

MABEL. Will you wait a minute, please? Returning. It’s De Levis—to see you. [In a low voice] Let me see him alone first. Just for a minute! Do!

DANCY. [After a moment’s silence] Go ahead! He goes out into the bedroom.

MABEL. [Going to the door, Right] Come in.

DE LEVIS comes in, and stands embarrassed.

Yes?

DE LEVIS. [With a slight bow] Your husband, Mrs Dancy?

MABEL. He is in. Why do you want to see him?

DE LEVIS. He came round to my rooms just now, when I was out. He threatened me yesterday. I don’t choose him to suppose I’m afraid of him.

MABEL. [With a great and manifest effort at self-control] Mr