The Complete Plays of J. M. Barrie - 30 Titles in One Edition. Джеймс Барри

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Act I

       Table of Contents

      SCENE: The Professor’s study in London. Time: Half-past nine a m. As the curtain rises Effie enters with the morning letters which she places on the table. There is a moment’s comedy out of her reading inquisitively two postcards. The first evidently amuses her. The second, to which she takes a magnifying glass, puzzles her. Enter Lucy White.

      LUCY (catching her at it). Good morning, Effie.

      EFFIE (guiltily leaving letters). Good morning, Miss White.

      LUCY. Has the Professor seen his letters yet?

      EFFIE. No, he hasna come into the study yet. He’s no that length. (Importantly) The Doctor’s examining him again, tapping away at his chest as if it was the front door.

      LUCY (smiling). Oh, the Doctor’s examining him again. Then I’ll run through the letters.

      (LUCY sits and opens letters.)

      EFFIE. I hope the Professor’s no very ill.

      LUCY (smiling demurely). I hope not, Effie.

      EFFIE. I dinna understand you, lassie; I would say you was good-hearted and yet you have just a queer smile on your face when I speak about the Professor’s illness.

      LUCY. I smile, Effie? Oh no, I’m crying gently. (Wipes away a pretended tear with a handkerchief.) And now that I have wiped away this insistent tear, tell me what sort of a man is this Dr. Cosens?

      EFFIE. Well, he’s no what I call good-looking.

      LUCY. Poor lost soul! Oh, I must do that again. (Wipes away another tear.) The Professor and he are old friends, are they not?

      EFFIE. I’ve heard Miss Goodwillie say they were at the college at Edinburgh together, but they see little of one another now. You see, the Doctor married and the Professor didna.

      LUCY. And after that, naturally they despised one another EFFIE. Why?

      LUCY (laughing). Well, of course, neither was quite certain whether the other hadn’t done best. Is the Doctor Scotch?

      EFFIE. No, he’s just English. But you dinna ask if the Professor’s any better to-day.

      LUCY (smiling). No, I don’t.

      EFFIE (aside). Laughing again! (Aloud) Why not?

      LUCY. Because you couldn’t know, Effie, unless you had been listening at the keyhole, and I am sure you would never do that. Just as I am sure you haven’t read those postcards.

      COSENS (coming half out of door). Nothing to alarm yourself about, Professor — I assure you I understand your case perfectly, perfectly! (Shuts door, sees EFFIE but not LUCY.) Effie, what is the matter with the Professor?

      EFFIE. Have you no found out, Doctor?

      LUCY. Effie!

      COSENS (startled). I didn’t see you, madam. The Professor’s secretary, I presume?

      LUCY. Yes, that’s all. I’m Miss White.

      COSENS. I hope you are very well, Miss White.

      LUCY. Thank you, yes. I only wish we could say the same of the Professor.

      COSENS (professionally). Ah!

      LUCY. May I say I am so glad he is in your hands? A sad case, Doctor. Effie, have you seen my handkerchief? (She dabs her eyes with it.)

      COSENS (suspiciously). Ho!

      LUCY (demurely). Is the Professor’s a very uncommon complaint, Dr. Cosens?

      COSENS. At first sight, Miss White, quite the reverse. He is suffering from a severe disinclination to work. One of the commonest complaints in the world.

      EFFIE. But he never had it before. All his life he has been the hardest worker in London.

      LUCY (sitting down to letters). And he has every incentive to work just now, for he is at the last chapter of his great book.

      EFFIE. Ay, it must be a serious illness that keeps him frae finishing his great book.

      LUCY. And so, Doctor, we are all so glad that you understand his case perfectly. I hope he said 99 nicely to-day.

      COSENS (frowning). H’m! Don’t let me interfere with your work, Miss White.

      EFFIE. What’s the name of his illness, sir?

      COSENS. The name?

      LUCY. We mustn’t ask such questions, Effie. We may be sure the Doctor has an excellent reason for not telling us its name. Have you not, Doctor?

      (COSENS winces.)

      And I think I know the reason, don’t you think I do, Doctor? Such a sad reason! (Gets out handkerchief.)

      COSENS (exasperated). Miss White — I — really — will you please to put away that handkerchief!

      LUCY (as if frightened). Effie, have I been doing anything wrong?

      COSENS (with a happy idea). You talk too much, Miss White. You are not looking well. I want to know your temperature.

      (Puts thermometer into her mouth and chuckles.)

      Now, Effie, I want to ask you some questions. I suppose the Professor has СКАЧАТЬ