THE COLLECTED WORKS OF GEORGE BERNARD SHAW. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ was horror stricken. “You thought — ! Oh, Nelly, what puts such things into your head?”

      “So would you have thought it if you had the least gumption about people. However, I was wrong; and I’m glad of it. However, I was right about Marmaduke. I told you so, over and over and over again.”

      “I know you did; but I didnt think you were in earnest.”

      “No, you never can conceive my being in earnest when I differ from you, until the event proves me to be right.”

      “I am afraid it will kill Constance.”

      “Dont, Marian!” cried Elinor, giving her chair a violent swing.

      “I am quite serious. You know how delicate she is.”

      “Well, if she dies of any sentiment, it will be wounded vanity. Serve her right for allowing a man to be forced into marrying her. I believe she knows in her soul that he does not care about her. Why else should she be jealous of me, of you, and of everybody?”

      “It seems to me that instead of sympathizing with the unfortunate girl, both you and Marmaduke exult in her disappointment.”

      “I pity her, poor little wretch. But I dont sympathize with her. I dont pity Marmaduke one bit: if the whole family cuts him he will deserve it richly, but I do sympathize with him. Can you wonder at his preference? When we went to see that woman last June I envied her. There she was, clever, independent, successful, holding her own in the world, earning her living, fascinating a crowd of people, whilst we poor respectable nonentities sat pretending to despise her — as if we were not waiting until some man in want of a female slave should offer us our board and lodging and the privilege of his lordly name with ‘Missis’ before it for our lifelong services. You may make up as many little bread-and-butter romances as you please, Marian; but I defy you to give me any sensible reason why Marmaduke should chain himself for ever to a little inane thing like Constance, when he can enjoy the society of a capable woman like that without binding himself at all.”

      “Nonsense, Nelly! Really, you oughtnt to say such things.”

      “No. I ought to keep both eyes tight shut so that I may be contented in that station to which it has pleased God to call me.”

      “Imagine his proposing to marry her, Nell! I am just as wicked as you; for I am very glad she refused; though I cant conceive why she did it.”

      “Perhaps,” said Miss McQuinch, becoming excited, “she refused because she had too much good sense: aye, and too much common decency to accept. It is all very well for us fortunate good-for-nothings to resort to prostitution — —”

      “Oh, Nelly!”

      “ — I say, to prostitution, to secure ourselves a home and an income. Somebody said openly in Parliament the other day that marriage was the true profession of women. So it is a profession; and except that it is a harder bargain for both parties, and that society countenances it, I dont see how it differs from what we — bless our virtuous indignation! — stigmatize as prostitution. I dont mean ever to be married, I can tell you, Marian. I would rather die than sell myself forever to a man, and stand in a church before a lot of people whilst George or somebody read out that cynically plain-spoken marriage service over me.”

      “Stop Nelly! Pray stop! If you thought for a moment you would never say such awful things.”

      “I thought we had agreed long ago that marriage is a mistake.”

      “Yes; but that is very different to what you are saying now.”

      “I cannot see — —”

      “Pray stop, Nelly. Dont go on in that strain. It does no good; and it makes me very uncomfortable.”

      “I’ll take it out in work,” said Nelly calmly, returning to her manuscript. “I can see that, as you say, talking does no good. All the more reason why I should have another try at earning my own living. When I become a great novelist I shall say what I like and do what I please. For the present I am your obedient, humble servant.”

      At any other time Marian would have protested, and explained, and soothed. Now she was too heavily preoccupied by her guilty conscience. She strolled disconsolately to the window, and presently, seeing that Miss McQuinch was at work in earnest and had better not be disturbed, went off for a lonely walk. It was a glorious afternoon; and nature heaped its peculiar consolations on her; so that she never thought of returning until the sun was close to the horizon. As she came, tired, through the plantation, with the evening glow and the light wind, in which the branches were rustling and the leaves dropping, lulling her luxuriously, she heard some one striding swiftly along the path behind. She looked back; but there was a curve in the way; and she could not see who was coming. Then it occurred to her that it might be Conolly. Dreading to face him after what had happened, she stole aside among the trees a little way, and sat down on a stone, hoping that he might pass by without seeing her. The next moment he came round the curve, looking so resolute and vigorous that her heart became fainter as she watched him. Just opposite where she sat, he stopped, having a clear view of the path ahead for some distance, and appeared puzzled. Marian held her breath. He looked to the left through the trees, then to the right, where she was.

      “Good-evening, Miss Lind,” he said respectfully, raising his hat.

      “Good-evening,” said she, trembling.

      “You are not looking quite well.”

      “I have walked too much; and I feel a little tired. That is why I had to sit down. I shall be rested presently.”

      Conolly sat down on a felled trunk opposite Marian. “This is my last visit to Carbury Towers,” he said. “No doubt you know that I am going for good.”

      “Yes,” said Marian. “I — I am greatly obliged to you for all the pains you have taken with me in the laboratory. You have been very patient. I suppose I have often wasted your time unreasonably.”

      “No,” said Conolly, unceremoniously, “you have not wasted my time: I never let anybody do that. My time belonged to Lord Carbury, not to myself. However, that is neither here nor there. I enjoyed giving you lessons. Unless you enjoyed taking them, the whole obligation rests on me.”

      “They were very pleasant.”

      He shifted himself into an easier position, looking well pleased. Then he said, carelessly, “Has Mr. Marmaduke Lind come down?”

      Marian reddened and felt giddy.

      “I want to avoid meeting him,” continued Conolly; “and I thought perhaps you might know enough of his movements this evening to help me to do so. It does not matter much; but I have a reason.”

      Marian felt the hysteric globe at her throat as she tried to speak; but she repressed it, and said:

      “Mr. Conolly: I know the reason. I did not know before: I am sure you did not think I did. I made a dreadful mistake.”

      “Why!” said Conolly, with some indignation, “who has told you since?”

      “Marmaduke,” said Marian, roused to reply quickly by the energy of the questioner. “He did not mean to be indiscreet: he thought I knew.”

      “Thought! СКАЧАТЬ