The Foundations - LightNovelsOnl.com
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JAMES. [Grinning] That's right.
L. ANNE. So-I'll just get under here. [She gets under the table]
Do I show?
JAMES. [Stooping] Not 'arf!
[POULDER enters from the hall.]
POULDER. What are you doin' there?
JAMES. [Between him and the table--raising himself] Thinkin'.
[POULDER purses his mouth to repress his feedings.]
POULDER. My orders are to fetch the bomb up here for Lady William to inspect. Take care no more writers stray in.
JAMES. How shall I know 'em?
POULDER. Well--either very bald or very hairy.
JAMES. Right-o! [He goes.]
[POULDER, with his back to the table, busies himself with the set of his collar.]
POULDER. [Addressing an imaginary audience--in a low but important voice] The--ah--situation is seerious. It is up to us of the--ah-- leisured cla.s.ses----
[The face of LITTLE ANNE is poked out close to his legs, and tilts upwards in wonder towards the bow of his waistcoat.]
to--ah--keep the people down. The olla polloi are clamourin'----
[Miss STOKES appears from the hall, between the pillars.]
Miss S. Poulder!
POULDER. [Making a volte face towards the table] Miss?
MISS S. Where is Anne?
POULDER. [Vexed at the disturbance of his speech] Excuse me, Miss-- to keep track of Miss Anne is fortunately no part of my dooties.
[Miss S. She really is naughty.]
POULDER. She is. If she was mine, I'd spank her.
[The smiling face of LITTLE ANNE becomes visible again close to his legs.]
MISS S. Not a nice word.
POULDER. No; but a pleasant haction. Miss Anne's the limit. In fact, Lord and Lady William are much too kind 'earted all round.
Take these sweated workers; that cla.s.s o' people are quite 'opeless.
Treatin' them as your equals, shakin 'ands with 'em, givin 'em tea-- it only puffs 'em out. Leave it to the Church, I say.
MISS S. The Church is too busy, Poulder.
POULDER. Ah! That "Purity an' Future o' the Race Campaign." I'll tell you what I thinks the danger o' that, Miss. So much purity that there won't be a future race. [Expanding] Purity of 'eart's an excellent thing, no doubt, but there's a want of nature about it.
Same with this Anti-Sweating. Unless you're anxious to come down, you must not put the lower cla.s.ses up.
MISS S. I don't agree with you at all, Poulder.
POULDER. Ah! You want it both ways, Miss. I should imagine you're a Liberal.
MISS S. [Horrified] Oh, no! I certainly am not.
POULDER. Well, I judged from your takin' cocoa. Funny thing that, about cocoa-how it still runs through the Liberal Party! It's virtuous, I suppose. Wine, beer, tea, coffee-all of 'em vices. But cocoa you might drink a gallon a day and annoy no one but yourself!
There's a lot o' deep things in life, Miss!
Miss S. Quite so. But I must find Anne.
[She recedes. ]
POULDER. [Suavely] Well, I wish you every success; and I hope you'll spank her. This modern education--there's no fruitiness in it.
L. ANNE. [From under the table] Poulder, are you virtuous?
POULDER. [Jumping] Good Ged!
L. ANNE. D'you mind my asking? I promised James I would.
POULDER. Miss Anne, come out!
[The four footmen appear in the hall, HENRY carrying the wine cooler.]
JAMES. Form fours-by your right-quick march!
[They enter, marching down right of table.]
Right incline--Mark time! Left turn! 'Alt! 'Enry, set the bomb!
Stand easy!
[HENRY places the wine cooler on the table and covers it with a blue embroidered Chinese mat, which has occupied the centre of the tablecloth.]
POULDER. Ah! You will 'ave your game! Thomas, take the door there!
James, the 'all! Admit t.i.tles an' bishops. No literary or Labour people. Charles and 'Enry, 'op it and 'ang about!
[CHARLES and HENRY go out, the other too move to their stations.]
[POULDER, stands by the table looking at the covered bomb. The hoa.r.s.e and distant sounds of the Ma.r.s.eillaise float in again from Park Lane.]
[Moved by some deep feeling] And this house an 'orspital in the war!
