Plays By John Galsworthy - LightNovelsOnl.com
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JOY. Oh! Mums, here you are!
[Seizing her, she turns her back on LEVER. They sit in various seats, and MRS. HOPE pours out the tea.]
MRS. HOPE. Hand the sandwiches to Mr. Lever, Peachey. It's our own jam, Mr. Lever.
LEVER. Thanks. [He takes a bite.] It's splendid!
MRS. GWYN. [With forced gaiety.] It's the first time I've ever seen you eat jam.
LEVER. [Smiling a forced smile.] Really! But I love it.
MRS. GWYN. [With a little bow.] You always refuse mine.
JOY. [Who has been staring at her enemy, suddenly.] I'm all burnt up! Are n't you simply boiled, Mother?
[She touches her Mother's forehead.]
MRS. GWYN. Ugh! You're quite clammy, Joy.
JOY. It's enough to make any one clammy.
[Her eyes go back to LEVER'S face as though to stab him.]
ERNEST. [From the swing.] I say, you know, the gla.s.s is going down.
LEVER. [Suavely.] The gla.s.s in the hall's steady enough.
ERNEST. Oh, I never go by that; that's a rotten old gla.s.s.
COLONEL. Oh! is it?
ERNEST. [Paying no attention.] I've got a little ripper--never puts you in the cart. Bet you what you like we have thunder before tomorrow night.
MISS BEECH. [Removing her gaze from JOY to LEVER.] You don't think we shall have it before to-night, do you?
LEVER. [Suavely.] I beg your pardon; did you speak to me?
MISS BEECH. I said, you don't think we shall have the thunder before to-night, do you?
[She resumes her watch on joy.]
LEVER. [Blandly.] Really, I don't see any signs of it.
[Joy, crossing to the rug, flings herself down. And d.i.c.k sits cross-legged, with his eyes fast fixed on her.]
MISS BEECH. [Eating.] People don't often see what they don't want to, do they?
[LEVER only lifts his brows.]
MRS. GWYN. [Quickly breaking ivy.] What are you talking about? The weather's perfect.
MISS BEECH. Isn't it?
MRS. HOPE. You'd better make a good tea, Peachey; n.o.body'll get anything till eight, and then only cold shoulder. You must just put up with no hot dinner, Mr. Lever.
LEVER. [Bowing.] Whatever is good enough for Miss Beech is good enough for me.
MISS BEECH. [Sardonically-taking another sandwich.] So you think!
MRS. GWYN. [With forced gaiety.] Don't be so absurd, Peachey.
[MISS BEECH, grunts slightly.]
COLONEL. [Once more busy with his papers.] I see the name of your engineer is Rodriguez--Italian, eh?
LEVER. Portuguese.
COLONEL. Don't like that!
LEVER. I believe he was born in England.
COLONEL. [Rea.s.sured.] Oh, was he? Ah!
ERNEST. Awful rotters, those Portuguese!
COLONEL. There you go!
LETTY. Well, Father, Ernie only said what you said.
MRS. HOPE. Now I want to ask you, Mr. Lever, is this gold mine safe?
If it isn't--I simply won't allow Tom to take these shares; he can't afford it.
LEVER. It rather depends on what you call safe, Mrs. Hope.
MRS. HOPE. I don't want anything extravagant, of course; if they're going to pay their 10 per cent, regularly, and Tom can have his money out at any time--[There is a faint whistle from the swing.] I only want to know that it's a thoroughly genuine thing.
MRS. GWYN. [Indignantly.] As if Maurice would be a Director if it was n't?
MRS. HOPE. Now Molly, I'm simply asking----
MRS. GWYN. Yes, you are!
COLONEL. [Rising.] I'll take two thousand of those shares, Lever.
To have my wife talk like that--I 'm quite ashamed.
LEVER. Oh, come, sir, Mrs. Hope only meant----
[MRS. GWYN looks eagerly at LEVER.]
