Arms and the Man, George Bernard Shaw [comprehension books txt] 📗

I thought that⁠—! Discouraged. Ah, well, what does it matter? I suppose, now that you’ve found me out, you despise me. Bluntschli Warmly, rising. No, my dear young lady, no, no, no a thousand times. It’s part of your youth⁠—part of your charm. I’m like all the rest of them⁠—the nurse⁠—your parents⁠—Sergius: I’m your infatuated admirer. Raina Pleased. Really? Bluntschli Slapping his breast smartly with his hand, German fashion. Hand aufs Herz! Really and truly. Raina Very happy. But what did you think of me for giving you my portrait? Bluntschli Astonished. Your portrait! You never gave me your portrait. Raina Quickly. Do you mean to say you never got it? Bluntschli No. He sits down beside her, with renewed interest, and says, with some complacency. When did you send it to me? Raina Indignantly. I did not send it to you. She turns her head away, and adds, reluctantly. It was in the pocket of that coat. Bluntschli Pursing his lips and rounding his eyes. Oh-o-oh! I never found it. It must be there still. Raina Springing up. There still!⁠—for my father to find the first time he puts his hand in his pocket! Oh, how could you be so stupid? Bluntschli Rising also. It doesn’t matter: it’s only a photograph: how can he tell who it was intended for? Tell him he put it there himself. Raina Impatiently. Yes, that is so clever⁠—so clever! What shall I do? Bluntschli Ah, I see. You wrote something on it. That was rash! Raina Annoyed almost to tears. Oh, to have done such a thing for you, who care no more⁠—except to laugh at me⁠—oh! Are you sure nobody has touched it? Bluntschli Well, I can’t be quite sure. You see I couldn’t carry it about with me all the time: one can’t take much luggage on active service. Raina What did you do with it? Bluntschli When I got through to Peerot I had to put it in safe keeping somehow. I thought of the railway cloak room; but that’s the surest place to get looted in modern warfare. So I pawned it. Raina Pawned it!!! Bluntschli I know it doesn’t sound nice; but it was much the safest plan. I redeemed it the day before yesterday. Heaven only knows whether the pawnbroker cleared out the pockets or not. Raina Furious⁠—throwing the words right into his face. You have a low, shopkeeping mind. You think of things that would never come into a gentleman’s head. Bluntschli Phlegmatically. That’s the Swiss national character, dear lady. Raina Oh, I wish I had never met you. She flounces away and sits at the window fuming. Louka comes in with a heap of letters and telegrams on her salver, and crosses, with her bold, free gait, to the table. Her left sleeve is looped up to the shoulder with a brooch, showing her naked arm, with a broad gilt bracelet covering the bruise. Louka To Bluntschli. For you. She empties the salver recklessly on the table. The messenger is waiting. She is determined not to be civil to a Serbian, even if she must bring him his letters. Bluntschli To Raina. Will you excuse me: the last postal delivery that reached me was three weeks ago. These are the subsequent accumulations. Four telegrams⁠—a week old. He opens one. Oho! Bad news! Raina Rising and advancing a little remorsefully. Bad news? Bluntschli My father’s dead. He looks at the telegram with his lips pursed, musing on the unexpected change in his arrangements. Raina Oh, how very sad! Bluntschli Yes: I shall have to start for home in an hour. He has left a lot of big hotels behind him to be looked after. Takes up a heavy letter in a long blue envelope. Here’s a whacking letter from the family solicitor. He pulls out the enclosures and glances over them. Great Heavens! Seventy! Two hundred! In a crescendo of dismay. Four hundred! Four thousand!! Nine thousand six hundred!!! What on earth shall I do with them all? Raina Timidly. Nine thousand hotels? Bluntschli Hotels! Nonsense. If you only knew!⁠—oh, it’s too ridiculous! Excuse me: I must give my fellow orders about starting. He leaves the room hastily, with the documents in his hand. Louka Tauntingly. He has not much heart, that Swiss, though he is so fond of the Serbians. He has not a word of grief for his poor father. Raina Bitterly. Grief!⁠—a man who has been doing nothing but killing people for years! What does he care? What does any soldier care? She goes to the door, evidently restraining her tears with difficulty. Louka Major Saranoff has been fighting, too; and he has plenty of heart left. Raina, at the door, looks haughtily at her and goes out. Aha! I thought you wouldn’t get much feeling out of your soldier. She is following Raina when Nicola enters with an armful of logs for the fire. Nicola Grinning amorously at her. I’ve been trying all the afternoon to get a minute alone with you, my girl. His countenance changes as he notices her arm. Why, what fashion is that of wearing your sleeve, child? Louka Proudly. My own fashion. Nicola Indeed! If the mistress catches you, she’ll talk to you. He throws the logs down on the ottoman, and sits comfortably beside them. Louka Is that any reason why you should take it on yourself to talk to me? Nicola Come: don’t be so contrary with me. I’ve some good news for you. He takes out some paper money. Louka, with an eager gleam in her eyes, comes close to look at it. See, a twenty leva bill! Sergius gave me that out of pure swagger. A fool and his money are soon parted. There’s ten levas more. The Swiss gave me that for backing up the mistress’s and Raina’s lies about him. He’s no fool, he isn’t. You should have heard old