The Big Drum - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
[_Closing her eyes._] Terrible.
PHILIP.
It shows the bishop and the judge playing to the gallery, the politician adopting the methods of the cheap-jack, the d.u.c.h.ess vying with the puffing draper; it shows how even true genius submits itself to conditions that are accepted and excused as "modern," and is found elbowing and pus.h.i.+ng in the hurly-burly. It shows how the ordinary decencies of life are sacrificed to the paragraphist, the interviewer, and the ghoul with the camera; how the home is stripped of its sanct.i.ty, blessed charity made a vehicle for display, the very grave-yard transformed into a parade ground; while the outsider looks on with a sinking of the vitals because the drumstick is beyond his reach and the bom-bom-bom is not for him! It shows----! [_Checking himself and leaving the arm-chair with a short laugh._] Oh, well, that's the setting of my story, Sir Randle! I won't inflict the details upon you.
SIR RANDLE.
Er--h'm--[_expansively_] an excellent theme, Mr. Mackworth; a most promising theme! [_To_ LADY FILSON.] Eh, Winifred?
LADY FILSON.
[_Politely._] Excellent; quite, quite excellent!
PHILIP.
[_Bowing to_ LADY FILSON _and going to_ OTTOLINE.] Thank you.
OTTOLINE.
[_To_ PHILIP, _glowingly_.] Splendid! [_Laying her hand upon his arm._]
You have purged your disgrace. [_Softly._] You may come and see me to-morrow.
PHILIP.
[_To_ OTTOLINE.] Ha, ha----!
SIR RANDLE.
[_In response to a final bow from_ PHILIP.] Good-bye.
LADY FILSON.
_Good_-bye.
[OTTOLINE _opens the glazed door and_ PHILIP _follows her into the hall. Immediately the door is shut_, LADY FILSON _hurries to_ SIR RANDLE.
SIR RANDLE.
[_In high spirits._] Winnie----!
LADY FILSON.
_That_ will never be a popular success, Randle!
SIR RANDLE.
Never. An offensive book----!
LADY FILSON.
Ho, ho, ho, ho----!
SIR RANDLE.
A grossly offensive book!
LADY FILSON.
[_Anxiously_.] He--he'll keep his word----?
SIR RANDLE.
To join us in persuading her to drop him----
LADY FILSON.
If it fails?
SIR RANDLE.
[_With conviction._] Yes. [_Walking about._] Yes. We _must_ be just. We owe it to ourselves to be just to Mr. Mackworth. He is not altogether devoid of gentlemanlike scruples.
LADY FILSON.
[_Breathlessly._] And--and _she_----?
SIR RANDLE.
I trust--I trust that my child's monstrous infatuation will have cooled down by the autumn.
LADY FILSON.
[_Supporting herself by the chair at the writing-table, her hand to her heart--exhausted._] Oh! Oh, dear!
SIR RANDLE.
[_Returning to her._] I conducted the affair with skill and tact, Winifred?
LADY FILSON.
[_Rallying._] It was masterly--[_kissing him_] masterly----
SIR RANDLE.
[_Proudly._] Ha!
[_She sits at the writing-table again and takes up her pen as_ SIR RANDLE _stalks to the door on the left._
LADY FILSON.
