Oh, as to my past, which you are pleased to wax mightily moral about, well—I have taken the world as I found it——
Hugh Murray.
You chant the litany of these who rifle and wrong! You have simply taken the world’s evil as you found it! I warn you!
Dunstan Renshaw.
And I warnyouthat you’ll do badly as a lawyer. Try the pulpit.
Hugh Murray.
I warn you! As surely as we now stand face to face, the crime you commit to-day you will expiate bitterly!
Dunstan Renshaw.
Thank you for your warning, Mr. Murray. It is my intention to expiate my atrocities by a life of tolerable ease and comfort. [Looking at his watch.] We shall really lose our train.
Hugh Murray.
[Turning away in disgust.] Oh!
Dunstan Renshaw.
And it may surprise a sentimental Scotch gentleman like yourself to learn that marriages of contentment are the reward of husbands who have taken the precaution to sow their wild oats rather thickly.
Hugh Murray.
Contentment!
Dunstan Renshaw.
Yes—I’ve studied the question.
Hugh Murray.
Contentment! Renshaw, do you imagine there is no Autumn in the life of a profligate? Do you think there is no moment when the accursed crop begins to rear its millions of heads above ground; when the rich man would give his wealth to be able to tread them back into the earth which rejects the foul load? To-day, you have robbed some honest man of a sweet companion!
Dunstan Renshaw.
Look here, Mr. Murray——!
Hugh Murray.
To-morrow, next week, next month, you may be happy—but what of the time when those wild oats thrust their ears through the very seams of the floor trodden by the wife whose respect you will have learned to covet! You may drag her into the crowded streets—there is the same vile growthspringing up from the chinks of the pavement! In your house or in the open, the scent of the mildewed grain always in your nostrils, and in your ears no music but the wind’s rustle amongst the fat sheaves! And, worst of all, your wife’s heart a granary bursting with the load of shame your profligacy has stored there! I warn you—Mr. Lawrence Kenward!
Dunstan Renshaw.
What! Hold your tongue, man; d——n you, hold your tongue!
[Leslieenters withWilfridandCheal.]
Leslie.
[ToDunstan.] Have I kept you waiting? You’re not cross with me, Dun, dear?
Dunstan Renshaw.
Cross—no. But—[looking sullenly atHugh] let us get on our journey.
Leslie.
Good-bye, Mr. Murray. [He takes her hand.] Won’t you—won’t you congratulate Mrs. Dunstan Renshaw? Do say something to me!
Hugh Murray.
What can I say to you but this—God bless you, little school-girl, always?
[She joinsDunstanand goes out, followed byWilfridandCheal.Hughis left alone gazing after them.]
END OF THE FIRST ACT.