Farncombegoes to her and they dance together.
Fulkerson.
ToDaphne, tapping her on the shoulder.Missdure, may I have th’ grea’ pleasure——?Shaking her.Missdure—Missdure——
Daphne.
Starting up.Oh!Looking round wildly.Oh——!
Fulkerson.
Dancing with her.Pray ’xcuse th’ absence ’f gloves.
Daphne.
Faintly.Oh! Oh, I—I thought I’d gone to bed!
With their hands on each other’s shoulders, the couples, swaying from side to side, half sing, half murmur, the refrain of the song.
melody and piano score
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If you would only, only love me;If you wouldmerely, merely say,Wait but a little, little for me,I will be yours, be yours some day!
If you would only, only love me;
If you wouldmerely, merely say,
Wait but a little, little for me,
I will be yours, be yours some day!
The refrain is repeated, the dancers droning to it with a, buzzing sound, and thenBlandreturns to the melody.
Lily.
As she dances, recollecting the note she is holding and opening it.What’s this?Reading the note, her arm resting uponFarncombe’sshoulder.“Dear Miss Parradell....glancing at the signatureFarncombe”!ToFarncombe.From you!
Farncombe.
Yes.
Lily.
Reading.“Will you allow me to——?”
She reads to the end silently, and then she stops dancing and they stand for a moment looking confusedly at each other. Then, with an expressionless face, she slips the note into her dress and they dance again, singing the refrain as before.
Bland.
At the finish, shutting down the lid of the piano and rising.Ladies and gentlemen, the festivities connected with Miss Parradell’s birthday are over.Leaving the piano.Our lives will now resume their normal, serious course.
Von Rettenmayer.
Regretfully.Ah-h-h-h!
The ladies put on their wraps, the men their overcoats, and there is a great deal of stir and chatter.De CastroassistsGabrielle;Von Rettenmayer,Enid;Fulkerson,Daphne; andFarncombe,Jimmie.Lilyjoins in the talk and bustle with forced animation.JimmieandFarncombeglance at her, and then, inquiringly, at one another.
Roper.
Putting on his overcoat withBland’shelp.Well,nobody can say the affair hasn’t been a brilliant success; that’s one comfort.
Gabrielle.
Wouldn’t be true if they did.Tode Castro, irritably.You’ve got it inside-out.
Lily.
ToEnidandGabrielle, kneeling upon the settee.Ah, yes, haven’t we had a splendid, splendid time!
Enid.
Splendid!
Von Rettenmayer.
A gharming pardy!
De Castro.
Abtholutely A 1!
Von Rettenmayer.
Singing.“Venus, seinen Nacken beut Dir Dein Sklave, dienstbereit!”
Lily.
Running toRoperand seizing his hands.A vote of thanks to Lal for his share in getting it up!
Bland.
SlappingRoperon the back.Bravo, Lal!
Some of the Others.
Bravo, Lal!
Lily.
Walking about.And to Carlton! Bravo, Carlton!
Some of the Others.
Bravo, Carlton! Bravo, Smythe!
De Castro.
Putting on his overcoat.Don’t forget Morrie Coolin’!
Lily.
No, don’t forget Morrie. Dear old Morrie!
Some of the Others.
Bravo, Morrie!
De Castro.
There hathn’t been a hitch from thtart to finish, in fact.
Lily.
At the nearer side of the table again.Not a hitch.
Fulkerson.
Remembering his grievance.I beg yo’ par’n—no’ a ’itch!In difficulties with his overcoat.When a gen’leman’sh invited b’ th’ lady ’f th’ house t’ partake ’f some refreshmen’——
Some of the Others.
Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Gabrielle.
Coming toLilyand kissing her.So long, dear.
Enid,Daphne, andJimmiealso come toLily, who embraces them demonstratively, and the men follow.
Lily.
To the girls.Ta-ta; ta-ta; ta-ta! I won’t come down.
Enid.
No, no; we’ll let ourselves out.LeavingLily.Till to-night!
Lily.
Till to-night!Shaking hands with the men.Ta-ta; ta-ta; ta-ta!
The Men.
Ta-ta! Ta-ta! Ta-ta!
Von Rettenmayer.
Kissing her hand slyly.Goddess!
Lily.
ToBland, in a whisper.Take care of Bertie.Everybody moves to the door, exceptLilywho remains standing in the middle of the room. Some are on the landing, some in the doorway, when she calls toRoperandJimmie.Uncle Lal! Jimmie! I want to speak to you two for a second.RoperandJimmiedetach themselves from the rest and return.Oh—and Lord Farncombe!Farncombealso returns andLily, passing him, goes on to the landing and mixes with the others.Be off; Lord Farncombe and Lal will look after Jimmie. Vincent,youclose the front-door. No noise! Au revoir, mes enfants!She watches themdescend the stairs and, her manner softening, comes back into the room.Lord Farncombe wants to have a quiet talk with me, Uncle Lal—about—about something, and he’s asked me to let him remain behind with Jimmie for a few minutes.ToJimmie.But there’s no necessity for you to wait, dear.
Jimmie.
Don’t consider me.
Lily.
But I do. Go upstairs and tell mother that Lord Farncombe’s with me. Say I promise he shan’t stay long.ToRoper.You’ll take Jimmie home, won’t you, Lal?
Roper.
His eyes bolting.W-w-with pleasure.
Lily.
ToJimmie.I shall see you again later in the day, perhaps?
Jimmie.
Rather!Throwing her arms roundLily’sneck and pressing her cheek toLily’s.Rather!ToRoper, significantly.Sit in the hall till I’m ready.
She runs out on to the landing, pausing at the door to bestow a parting nod and a smile uponFarncombe, and ascends the stairs.
Roper.
In a state of great excitement and exhilaration—toLily.Yes, yes, I won’t keep you and—winking at her and jerking his head inFarncombe’sdirectionfrom yourtête-à-tête.Patting her face gleefully.Ha, ha, ha, ha!Taking her hand, his own quivering.Lil, Uncle Lal you call me, but I’ve always felt more like a parent towards you—acted as such, hey?
Lily.
Y-y-yes, Lal.
Roper.
And any happiness that befalls you—any happiness that befalls you—chokingI’ll leave it there. God bless yer; God bless yer!bustling over toFarncombewho, his hat in his hand, his overcoat on his arm, is standing near the pianoand God blessyou, my lad!incoherentlyI’m proud—proud to have the honour—and to have been the means of—the means of—wringingFarncombe’shandGod bless you both!He goes to the door and there findsLily.I—I—I—I’ll drop in by-and-by and—and—and inquire after you, my pet.
Lily.
Faintly.All right, Lal.
Roper.
Patting her face again.Ha, ha, ha, ha!With a hop.Wurrr-roo! Stand away from the lift; no more passengers this journey!
He waves toFarncombegaily and departs, closing the door. There is a short silence and thenFarncombeplaces his hat and overcoat upon the chair by the piano and turns toLily.
Farncombe.
In a low voice.It’s awfully kind and gracious of you to have granted my request, and frightfully selfish of me to have made it. I deserve to be kicked.
Lily.
Slowly advancing to the table in the centre—avoiding his gaze.Is—is Jimmie aware of precisely what’s in your note?
Farncombe.
Y-y-yes.Drawing nearer to her.I hope you won’t be angry with me for confiding in her. You see, I—I——
Lily.
At the further side of the table, fingering one of the objects upon it.Andshe’llconfide in Uncle Lal.Shrugging her shoulders.Oh, but dear old Lal appears to have summed up the situation pretty accurately as it is.With an artificial little laugh.Ha, ha, ha! Well, I’m afraid they’ll be horribly disappointed, poor wretches.
Farncombe.
Blankly.Disap-pointed?
Lily.
Raising her eyes to his and shaking her head at him.You—you silly boy!
Farncombe.
Coming to her quickly.Ah, please—please don’t take that tone with me. I’m no boy. And I’m simplymad about you. If you don’t marry me, I—I—I’m done for.
Lily.
H’sh! Nonsense; not you!
Farncombe.
It’s true. Life’ll be over for me from that moment, if you refuse to marry me.
Lily.
Mockingly.Over!
Farncombe.
Oh, love is all on my side at present, naturally; but, as God hears me, it’ll be no fault of mine if you don’t grow to love me in time.
Lily.
Listen——!
Farncombe.
I’ll worship you—worship you. Idoworship you!
Lily.
H’sh! Lord Farncombe——
Farncombe.
Eddie!Won’t you?
Lily.
Certainly not.
Farncombe.
Do! Eddie! Eddie!
Lily.
Eddie, then——
Farncombe.
Ah——!
Lily.
Sit down a minute.She goes to the settee and sits there, somewhat ruffled, and he moves to the arm-chair by the centre table and also sits, his elbows on his knees, bending towards her. She pushes her hair back from her brow impatiently, as if vexed with herself.Lord Farncombe—Eddie—for how long have you known me?
Farncombe.
What does it matter? I—I admit——
Lily.
Reckoning our acquaintance from last week—from the afternoon Bertie brought you here, when we scarcely spoke to one another—you haven’t known me for as many days as you can count on your fingers.
Farncombe.
I’ve watched you—watched you in the theatre——
Lily.
On the stage! Ho, ho! Oh, you—but I mustn’t call you silly boy again, must I! And what do you knowofme, apart from the glimpse you’ve had of me off the stage, and my being a shining light at the Pandora? What do you know of my—what’s the word?—origin—where and what I’ve sprung from;how I was reared; how much education I’ve received; how much I’ve contrived to pick up of the way to behave inperlite society? You can judge from poor mother, if from nothing else, that I come from humble beginnings. Yes, buthowhumble you couldn’tdream,making a grimacenot after a supper of raw carrots!
Farncombe.
Do you think Icarehow humble your beginnings were! What I do know—what Iamsure about—is that you’re good—and beautiful—and—and—and gifted—and—and—leaning his head on his handsoh, I can’t describe you; you’re—you’re—to me, you’reperfect.
Lily.
After a pause, looking at him with blinking eyelids.You—youdear!He raises his head. She changes her tone instantly.Merci; yes, perfect,pour le moment. Hear my French!Taking the box of cigarettes from the table.Have a cigarette? Don’t get up.She tosses him a cigarette and he catches it.My name’s printed on them—“Lily.”Lighting a cigarette.Isn’t itchic!
Farncombe.
Producing his cigarette case and exchanging her cigarette for one of his own.I’ll never smokethat.
Lily.
Pushing the match-stand towards him.Stoopid! Now, attend to me. What do you say to a tiny provision shop in Kennington, over the water?
Farncombe.
Was that——?
Lily.
Nodding.H’m; that was my start in the world. Father kept a small shop in Kennington—Gladwin Street, near the Oval. We sold groceries, and butter and eggs and cheese, and pickled-pork and paraffin. I was born there—on the second floor; and in Gladwin Street I lived till I was fourteen. Then father smashed, through the Stores cutting into our little trade. Well, hardly smashed; that’s too imposing. The business just faded, and one morning we didn’t bother to take the shutters down. Then, after a while, father got a starvation berth—eighteen shillings a week!—at a wholesale bacon warehouse—Price and Moseley’s—still over the water; and I earned an extra five at a place in the Westminster Bridge Road, for pasting the gilt edges on to passe-partouts from nine a.m. till six in the evening.
Farncombe.
His head bowed again.Great heavens!
Lily.
Not a syllable against the passe-partouts! They were the making of me. It was the passe-partouts that brought me and Tedder together.
Farncombe.
Who?
Lily.
Tedder. In the house where I worked, a man ofthe name of Tedder—Ambrose Tedder—taught dancing—stage dancing—“Tedder’s Academy of Saltatory Art”—and every time I passed Tedder’s door, and heard his violin or piano, and the sound of the pupils’ feet, I—!Breaking off and throwing herself back.Oh, lor’, if once I——!
Farncombe.
Go on; go on.
Lily.
Well, ultimately Tedder took me and trained me—did it for nix—for what he hoped to get out of me in the future. Ah, and hehasn’tlost over me—poor old Ambrose! He collared a third of my salary for ever so long; and now that the old chap’s rheumaticky and worn out, I—oh, it’s not worth mentioning.Jumping up and walking away.My stars, he could teach, could Tedder! I began by going to him for the last twenty minutes of my dinner-hour. He wanted to stopthat, because it was bad for me, he said, to practise on a full—a full—! Ha, ha, ha! On afull—!Behind the table, resting her two hands upon it and shaking with laughter.Ho, ho, ho! As if I ever had—in those days——!
Farncombe.
Writhing.Ah, don’t—don’t——!
Lily.
Brushing the tears from her eyes.I was a pupil of Tedder’s for twelve months, and then he got me on at the Canterbury; and from the Canterbury I went to Gatti’s, and from Gatti’s to the Lane, for a few linesin the pantomime and an understudy—my first appearance in the West End—singing“Oh, the West End is the best end!”—and from there I went to the old Strand, and there Morrie Cooling spotted me, and that led to me being engaged at the Pandora, where I ate my heart out, doing next to nothing, for two whole years. Then came the production ofThe Duchess of Brixton, and it was inThe Duchess—thanks to Vincent Bland—that I sang the “Mind the Paint” song. He believed in me, did Vincent;hesaw I was fit for something more than just prancing about, and airing my ankles, in a gay frock. By Jupiter, how he fought for me;howhe fought for me, up to the final rehearsal! And to this day, whenever I indulge in a prayer, you bet Vincent Bland has a paragraph all to himself in it!Checking herself and coming toFarncombe.Oh, but—I needn’t inflict quite so much of my biography on you, need I?He rises.Sorry. I merely wanted to tell you enough to show you—to show you——
Farncombe.
Close to her, gazing into her eyes.To show me what a—what amarvelyou are!
Lily.
Pleased.Ha, ha! Oh, I’m not chucking mud at myself really. Why should I! Many a woman ’ud feel as vain as a peacock in my shoes. Fancy! From the shop in Gladwin Street to—with a gesturetothis! And from Tedder’s stuffy room in the Westminster Bridge Road to the stage of the Pandora, as principal girl!
Farncombe.
Tenderly.Wonderful!
Lily.
Carried away by her narration and putting her hands upon his shoulders familiarly.Yes, and all the schooling I’ve ever had, Eddie, was at a cheap, frowsy day-school in Kennington, with a tribe of other common, skinny-legged brats. Imagine it!
Farncombe.
Taking her hands.I can’t imagine it; I defy anybody to.
Lily.
Unthinkingly allowing him to retain her hands.Everything I’ve learned since—except my music, and that I owe to Tedder and Vincent—everything I’ve learned since, I’ve learned by sheer cuteness, from novels, the papers, the theatres, and by keeping my ears open like a cunning little parrot.Softly.Ha, ha! That’s what I am—a cunning little parrot!
Farncombe.
Laughing with her.Ha, ha!
Lily.
Tossing her head.Ho, I dare say, if I had the opportunity, I could imitate the finelydiesyoumix with, so that in less than six months you’d hardly know the difference between them and me!
Farncombe.
Holding her hands to his breast.There is no difference already; thereisnone.
Lily.
Isn’t there!Almost nestling up to him.Ah, you should see me in one of my vile tempers.Wistfully.Then—then you wouldn’t—!Becoming conscious of her proximity to him, she backs away and stands rubbing the palms of her hands together in embarrassment.Anyhow—anyhow it isn’t my intention to give you a chance of comparing us.
Farncombe.
Under his breath.Oh—Miss Parradell——!
Lily.
Collecting herself.No, I—I’m not going to let you make a fool of yourself overme, if I can help it.
Farncombe.
Fool——!
Lily.
Facing him and speaking quietly but firmly.Recollect, however shrewd and apt I may be, and however straight I’ve managed to keep myself, still—I’m only a Pandora girl, and should always be remembered as one by your chums and belongings. Only a Pandora girl. Nothing can alter that, dear boy; and you mustn’t—you mustn’t handicap yourself by hangingmeround your neck.
Farncombe.
Heavily.I—I shouldn’t be the first of my sort to marry a “Pandora girl,” not by half a dozen or more.
Lily.
No, but—without wishing to flatter you—I don’t quite put you on a level with Robbie Kinterton, and Glenroy, and Georgie Fawcus, and—that crew.Cheerfully.And so I mean to take care of you—to take care of you for your own sake and for your mammy’s and daddy’s.She turns from him and fetches his hat and coat and gives them to him. He receives them from her with a dazed look.Time’s up.After a silence during which neither stirs.Never mind. You’ll survive it.Another pause.Come along.
She passes him, to go to the door on the left. As she does so he flings his hat and coat on to the settee, and clasps her in his arms.
Farncombe.
Lily—Lily——!
Lily.
Ah, that’s not fair!
Farncombe.
Don’t—don’t send me away like this!
Lily.
Her hand against his breast.It isn’t fair of you!
Farncombe.
Say you’ll take time to consider.
Lily.
I hate you for it!
Farncombe.
Ask Roper’s advice—your mother’s——!
Lily.
I’ve trusted you!
Farncombe.
Ask Miss Birch——!
Lily.
Eddie! Lord Farncombe——!He releases her and they confront one another, she panting, he hanging his head guiltily.W-w-well, I—Ihavebeen mistaken in you.
Farncombe.
In despair.I—I——Turning from her and hitting his temples with his fists.Forgive me. Forgive me.
Lily.
Ha! I—I thought you were such a quiet, bashful fellow.
Farncombe.
Forgive me. Forgive me.
She wavers and then slowly approaches him.
Lily.
Gently.Don’t—don’t fret about it.Iforgive you.Touching his arm with her finger-tips.I’m to blame.Drawing a deep breath.All those dances——!
He seizes her hand and kisses it passionately.
Farncombe.
I may see you again? I may see you again? Lily—Lily—! Lily——!
Lily.
In a whisper, averting her head.N-no—we’d better not——There is a low but distinct knocking at the door on the left. She withdraws her hand and they look at each other, he inquiringly, she with a calm face. The knocking is repeated.Mother.She goes to the door and speaks with her mouth close to it.That you, mother?She listens for a reply and again the knocking is heard.Who is it?She opens the door.Jeyesis outside.Nicko!Jeyescomes into the room. He has rid himself of his wig and beard and is wearing an overcoat buttoned up to his chin and a cap drawn down to his brows. His face is white and his jaws are set determinedly.How—how have you got in?He produces a bunch of keys and grimly displays a latch-key.Oh—oh——!Pulling off his cap,Jeyesadvances to the table in the centre, glaring atFarncombe.Lilycloses the door sharply and also advances, speaking volubly toFarncombeas she comes forward.Captain Jeyes is in the habit of bringing me home from the theatre after my work; and a long while ago I gave him a latch-key to carry on his key-ring, so that he could let me into my house whenever I’d forgotten my own key. He hasn’t the slightest right to use it at any other time; nobody knows that better than he does. It’s a confounded liberty!ToJeyes, hotly.What are you doing here at all at this hour of the morning?
Jeyes.
After an expressive glance atFarncombe.An odd question, in the circumstances.
Lily.
Answer me!
Jeyes.
Keeping an eye onyou.
Lily.
Spying on me!
Jeyes.
On you—jerking his head towardsFarncombeand——
Lily.
How dare you!
Jeyes.
I’ve been at it all night.
Lily.
All night!
Jeyes.
Yes; I was in the theatre while you were supping and dancing.
Lily.
Youwere!
Jeyes.
Imeantto be there. You did your best to stop it——
Lily.
That’s a lie!
Jeyes.
So that you could enjoy yourself thoroughly—glancing atFarncombeagainwith——
Lily.
A lie!
Jeyes.
I didn’t leave till past three. You and—with another motion of the head towardsFarncombehad just had your fifth dance together, and they were hauling you round the building.
Lily.
Wherewereyou? Who——?
Jeyes.
Excuse me; that’s my business. Then I went back to Jermyn Street, and it suddenly struck me I’d like to see how your escort was composed.
Lily.
You’ve been watching outside?
Jeyes.
Since a quarter-to-four—under the portico at the corner.
Lily.
Contemptuously.You——!
Jeyes.
Yes, but, by God, I wasn’t quite prepared forthis!
Lily.
This!
Jeyes.
Cramming his cap into his overcoat-pocket and coming toFarncombe.What the hell’s your game? You’ve got some accommodating friends, both of you, in that blackguard Roper and that slut Jimmie Birch!
Lily.
Oh—!ApproachingJeyeswith clenched fists.Ah, you cur——!
Farncombe.
Holding up his hand to her appealingly.Miss Parradell——!
Lily.
ToJeyes.You cur! Mother’s been told that Lord Farncombe’s with me. I sent Jimmie up to tell her.
Jeyes.
Whereisyour mother?
Lily.
In bed, of course.
Jeyes.
Snoring! Ha, ha, ha! Faugh, there’s an ugly name, my girl, for such mothers as yours!
Lily.
Ah—!Raising her fist.Ah-h-h-h——!
Farncombe.
Miss Parradell——!
Lily.
Restraining herself with difficulty and pacing the room.Oh, the cur! The cur! The cur!
Farncombe.
ToJeyes, looking at him steadily.Captain Jeyes——
Lily.
The low cur!
Farncombe.
Captain Jeyes, do you happen to know where I lodge?
Jeyes.
No; I don’t know where your sty is.
Farncombe.
St. James’s Place—forty-seven. I shall be in at twelve o’clock.Picking up his hat and overcoat.From the tone this gentleman adopts, Miss Parradell, I assume that he considers himself entitled to concern himself in your affairs.Moving over to the left whereLilyjoins him.Perhaps it will make it easier for you if I——
Lily.
Clutching his arm.Ah, I’m so indignant, Eddie! I—I—I——!
Jeyes.
Eddie!Eddie!
Lily.
Turning uponJeyesin a fury.Yes, you cad—Eddie,Eddie,Eddie! You cad! You sneak! You idler! You waster! I’ve stood it long enough. This is the last straw! I’ve done with you! I’m sick to death of you! How I’ve tolerated you all these years is a mystery to me! After this, get out of my sight and never show yourself to me again!
Jeyes.
Grasping her wrist, fiercely.Lily——!
Lily.
Wrenching herself free.What!Losing control over herself utterly.You’ll spy on me, will you, you shabby loafer! You’ll peep at me while I’m eating my supper, and count the dances I choose to give that boy over there, will you! And then you’ll break into my house, and insult my friends behind their backs, and insinuate foul things against my poor old mother—you damned coward!—and against me,pointing toFarncombeandhim! Why, you’re not fit to black his boots, and you never were—never—you—you—you scum! Here!TakingFarncombe’snote from her bosom and thrusting it atJeyes.Read that!Sitting in the arm-chair by the centre table.Read it! Read it! Read it!Jeyesreads to himself.Out loud!
Jeyes.
Mumbling.“Dear Miss Parradell. Will you allow me——?”
Lily.
Louder!
Jeyes.
“Will you allow me to remain behind for a few minutes with Miss Jimmie after the others have gone? I know I am presuming a lot, but I cannot leave you till I have asked you the most important question a man can put to a woman. Farncombe.”
Lily.
Breathless.Written here—on my note-paper—while I was out of the room! It came on me like a thunder-clap! Ah! Ah! Ah!Jeyessits upon the settee, staring at the carpet.And Morrie Cooling and Lal will tell you that I hadn’t a notion that Lord Farncombe was to be at the supper last night, or any of the boys; not a notion. I blackguarded ’em both for deceiving me, and causing me to deceiveyou.Taking the scent-atomizer from the table and spraying her face with it.Now! What have you to say now! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Jeyes.
Huskily.Why—why the devil did you let Jimmie go? Why did you let her go? It was knowing that you and Farncombe were alone that—that made me——