The Essential G. B. Shaw: Celebrated Plays, Novels, Personal Letters, Essays & Articles. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ him, seized the uppermost envelope, thrust her little finger under the flap, and burst it open.

      “Hm,” she said. “First rehearsal next Monday. Here he is at me again to make the engagement renewable after Christmas. What an old fool he must be not to guess why I dont want to be engaged next spring! Just look at the Times, Bob, and see if the piece is advertized yet.”

      “I should think so, by Jupiter,” said Marmaduke, patiently interrupting his meal to open the newspaper.

      “Here is a separate advertisement for everybody. ‘The latest Parisian

       success. La petite Maison du Roi. Music by M. de Jongleur. Mr.

       Faulkner has the honor to announce that an adaptation by Mr. Cribbs of

       M. de Jongleur’s opera bouffe La petite Maison du Roi, entitled King

       Lewis on the lewis’ — what the deuce does that mean?”

      “On the loose, of course.”

      “But it is spelt l-e-w —— oh! its a pun. What an infernal piece of idiocy! Then it goes on as usual, except that each name in the cast has a separate line of large print. Here you are: ‘Lalage Virtue as Madame Dubarry’ — —”

      “Is that at the top?”

      “Yes.”

      “Before Rose Stella?”

      “Yes. Why! — I didnt notice it before — you are down fifteen times!

       Every alternate space has your name over again. ‘Lalage Virtue as Madame

       Dubarry. Fred Smith as Louis XV. Lalage Virtue as the Dubarry. Felix

       Sumner as the Due de Richelieu. Lalage Virtue as la belle Jeanneton.’

       By the way, that is all rot. Cardinal Richelieu died four or five

       hundred years before Madame Dubarry was born.”

      “Let me see the paper. I see they have given Rose Stella the last line with a big AND before it. No matter. She is down only once; and I am down fifteen times.”

      “I wonder what all these letters of mine are about! This is a bill, of course. The West Kensington Wine Company. Whew! We are getting through the champagne at the rate of about thirty pounds a month, not counting what we pay for when we dine in town.”

      “Well, what matter! Champagne does nobody any harm; and I get awfully low without it.”

      “All right, my dear. So long as you please yourself, and dont injure your health, I dont care. Here’s a letter of yours put among mine by mistake. It has been forwarded from your old diggings at Lambeth.”

      “It’s from Ned,” said Susanna, turning pale. “He must be coming home, or he would not write. Yes, he is. What shall I do?”

      “What does he say?” said Marmaduke, taking the letter from her. “‘Back at 6 on Wednesday evening. Have high tea. N.C.’ Short and sweet! Well, he will not turn up til tomorrow, at all events, even if he knows the address, which of course he doesnt.”

      “He knows nothing. His note shews that. What will he do when he finds me gone? He may get the address at the post-office, where I told them to send on my letters. The landlady has most likely found out for her own information. There is no mistake about it,” said Susanna, rising and walking to the window: “I am in a regular funk about him. I have half a mind to go back to Lambeth and meet him. I could let the murder out gradually, or, perhaps, get him off to the country again before he discovers anything.”

      “Go back! oh no, nonsense! The worst he can do is to cut you — and a good job too.”

      “I wish he would. It would be a relief to me at present to know for certain that he would.”

      “He cant be so very thinskinned as you fancy, considering the time you have been on the stage.”

      “There’s nothing wrong in being on the stage. There’s nothing wrong in being here either, in spite of Society. After all, what do I care about Ned, or anybody else? He always went his own way when it suited him; and he has no right to complain if I go mine. Let him come if he likes: he will not get much satisfaction from me.” Susanna sat down again, and drank some tea, partly defiant, partly disconsolate.

      “Dont think any more about it,” said Marmaduke. “He wont come.”

      “Oh, let him, if he likes,” said Susanna, impatiently. Marmaduke did not quite sympathize with her sudden recklessness. He hoped that Conolly would have the good sense to keep away.

      “Look here, Bob,” said she, when they had finished breakfast. “Let us go somewhere to-day. I feel awfully low. Let us have a turn up the river.”

      “All right,” said Marmaduke, with alacrity. “Whatever you please. How shall we go?”

      “Anyhow. Let us go to Hampton by train. When we get there we can settle what to do afterward. Can you come now?”

      “Yes, whenever you are ready.”

      “Then I will run upstairs and dress. Go out and amuse yourself with that blessed old lawn-mower until I come.”

      “Yes, I think I will,” said Marmaduke, seriously. “That plot near the gate wants a trimming badly.”

      “What a silly old chap you are, Bob!” she said, stopping to kiss him on each cheek as she left the room.

      Marmaduke had become attached to the pursuit of gardening since his domestication. He put on his hat; went out; and set to work on the plot near the gate. The sun was shining brightly; and when he had taken a few turns with the machine he stopped, raising his face to the breeze, and saw Conolly standing so close to him that he started backward, and made a vague movement as if to ward off a blow. Conolly, who seemed amused by the mowing, said quietly: “That machine wants oiling: the clatter prevented you from hearing me come. I have just returned from Carbury Towers. Miss Lind is staying there; and she has asked me to give you a message.”

      This speech perplexed Marmaduke. He inferred from it that Conolly was ignorant of Susanna’s proceedings, but he had not sufficient effrontery to welcome him unconcernedly at once. So he stood still and stared at him.

      “I am afraid I have startled you,” Conolly went on, politely. “I found the gate unlocked, and thought it would be an unnecessary waste of time to ring the bell. You have a charming little place here.”

      “Yes, it’s a pretty little place, isnt it?” said Marmaduke. “A — wont you come in and have a — excuse my bringing you round this way, will you? My snuggery is at the back of the house.”

      “Thank you; but I had rather not go in. I have a great deal of business to do in town to-day; so I shall just discharge my commission and go.”

      “At any rate, come into the shade,” said Marmaduke, glancing uneasily toward the windows of the house. “This open place is enough to give us sunstroke.”

      Conolly followed him to a secluded part of the shrubbery, where they sat down on a bench.

      “Is СКАЧАТЬ