Barrie, J M - Half Hours

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by Half Hours


  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 45

  claps her hands, as the signal to HARRY. He enters bowing, and with a graceful swerve of the leg. He is only partly in costume, the sword and the real stockings not having arrived yet. With a gliding motion that is only delayed while one leg makes up on the other, he reaches his wife, and, going on one knee, raises her hand superbly to his lips. She taps him on the shoulder with a paper-knife and says huskily, 'Rise, Sir Harry. 9 He rises, bows, and glides about the room, going on his knees to various articles of furniture, and rises from each a knight. It is a radiant domestic scene, and HARRY is as dignified as if he knew that royalty was rehearsing it at the other end.

  SIR HARRY (complacently). Did that seem

  all right, eh ?

  LADY SIMS (much relieved). I think perfect. SIR HARRY. But was it dignified ? LADY SIMS. Oh, very. And it will be still

  more so when you have the sword.

  46 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  SIR HARRY. The sword will lend it an air. There are really the five moments (suiting the action to the word) the glide the dip the kiss the tap and you back out a knight. It 's short, but it 's a very beautiful ceremony. (Kindly) Anything you can suggest ?

  LADY SIMS. No oh no. (Nervously, seeing him pause to kiss the tassel of a cushion). You don't think you have practised till you know what to do almost too well ? (He has been in a blissful temper, but such niggling criticism would try any man.)

  SIR HARRY. I do not. Don't talk nonsense. Wait till your opinion is asked for.

  LADY SIMS (abashed). I 'm sorry, Harry. (A perfect butler appears and presents a card.) 'The Flora Type-Writing Agency .'

  SIR HARRY. Ah, yes. I telephoned them to send some one. A woman, I suppose, Tombes ?

  TOMBES. Yes, Sir Harry.

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 47

  SIR HARRY. Show her in here. (He has very lately become a stickler for etiquette.) And, Tombes, strictly speaking, you know, I am not Sir Harry till Thursday.

  TOMBES. Beg pardon, sir, but it is such a satisfaction to us.

  SIR HARRY (good-naturedly). Ah, they like it downstairs, do they ?

  TOMBES (unbending). Especially the females, Sir Harry.

  SIR HARRY. Exactly. You can show her in, Tombes. (The butler departs on his mighty task.) You can tell the woman what she is wanted for, Emmy, while I change. (He is too modest to boast about himself, and prefers to keep a wife in the house for that purpose.) You can tell her the sort of things about me that will come better from you. (Smiling happily) You heard what Tombes said, 'Especially the females.' And he is right. Success! The women like it even better than the men. And rightly. For they share. You share, Lady

  48 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  Sims. Not a woman will see that gown without being sick with envy of it. I know them. Have all our lady friends in to see it. It will make them ill for a week.

  (These sentiments carry him off light- heartedly, and presently the disturbing element is shown in. She is a mere typist) dressed in uncommonly good taste 9 but at contemptibly small ex pense, and she is carrying her type writer in a friendly way rather than as a badge of slavery, as of course it is. Her eye is clear; and in odd contrast to LADY SIMS, she is self-reliant and serene.) KATE (respectfully, but she should have waited

  to be spoken to). Good morning, madam. LADY SIMS (in her nervous way, and scarcely noticing that the typist is a little too ready with her tongue). Good morning. (As a first impression she rather likes the woman, and the woman, though it is scarcely worth mentioning, rather likes her. LADY SIMS

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 49

  has a maid for buttoning and unbuttoning her, and probably another for waiting on the maid, and she gazes with a little envy per haps at a woman who does things for herself.} Is that the type-writing machine ?

  KATE (who is getting it ready for use). Yes (not 'Yes, madam, 9 as it ought to be). I suppose if I am to work here I may take this off. I get on better without it. (She is referring to her hat.)

  LADY SIMS. Certainly. (But the hat is already off.) I ought to apologise for my gown. I am to be presented this week, and I was trying it on. (Her tone is not really apologetic. She is rather clinging to the glory of her gown, wistfully, as if not absolutely certain, you know, that it is a glory.)

  KATE. It is beautiful, if I may presume to say so. (She frankly admires it. She probably has a best, and a second best of her own: that sort of thing.)

  LADY SIMS (with a flush of pride in the gown).

  50 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  Yes, it is very beautiful. (The beauty of it gives her courage.) Sit down, please.

  KATE (the sort of woman who would have sat down in any case). I suppose it is some copying you want done? I got no par ticulars. I was told to come to this address, but that was all.

  LADY SIMS (almost with the humility of a servant). Oh, it is not work for me, it is for my husband, and what he needs is not exactly copying. (Swelling , for she is proud of HARRY.) He wants a number of letters answered hundreds of them letters and telegrams of congratulation.

  KATE (as if it were all in the day 9 s work). Yes?

  LADY SIMS (remembering that HARRY expects every wife to do her duty). My husband is a remarkable man. He is about to be knighted. (Pause, but KATE does not fall to the floor.) He is to be knighted for his services to (on reflection) for his ser vices. (She is conscious that she is not

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 51

  doing HARRY justice.) He can explain

  it so much better than I can. KATE (in her business-like way). And I am

  to answer the congratulations ? LADY SIMS (afraid that it will be a hard task).

  Yes. KATE (blithely). It is work I have had some

  experience of. (She proceeds to type.) LADY SIMS. But you can't begin till you

  know what he wants to say. KATE. Only a specimen letter. Won't it

  be the usual thing ? LADY SIMS (to whom this is a new idea). Is

  there a usual thing ? KATE. Oh, yes.

  (She continues to type, and LADY SIMS,

  * half -mesmerised, gazes at her nimble

  fingers. The useless woman watches

  the useful one, and she sighs, she could

  not tell why.)

  LADY SIMS. How quickly you do it! It

  must be delightful to be able to do some thing, and to do it well.

  52 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  KATE (thankfully}. Yes, it is delightful.

  LADY SIMS (again remembering the source of all her greatness). But, excuse me, I don't think that will be any use. My husband wants me to explain to you that his is an exceptional case. He did not try to get this honour in any way. It was a com plete surprise to him

  KATE (who is a practical Kate and no dealer in sarcasm). That is what I have written.

  LADY SIMS (in whom sarcasm would meet a dead wall). But how could you know?

  KATE. I only guessed.

  LADY SIMS. Is that the usual thing ?

  KATE. Oh, yes.

  LADY SIMS. They don't try to get it ?

  KATE. I don't know. That is what we are» told to say in the letters.

  (To her at present the only important thing about the letters is that they are ten shillings the hundred.)

  LADY SIMS (returning to surer ground). I should explain that my husband is not

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 53

  a man who cares for honours. So long

  as he does his duty

  KATE. Yes, I have been putting that in. LADY SIMS. Have you? But he particularly

  wants it to be known that he would have

  declined a title were it not

  KATE. I have got it here.

  LADY SIMS. What have you got ?

  KATE (reading). 'Indeed, I would have asked

  to be allowed to decline had it not been

  that I want to please my wife.' LADY SIMS (heavily). But how could you

  know it was that ? KATE. Is it? LADY SIMS (who after all is the one with the


  right to ask questions). Do they all accept

  it for that reason ? KATE. That is what we are told to say in

  the letters. LADY SIMS (thoughtlessly). It is quite as if

  you knew my husband. KATE. I assure you, I don't even know his

  name.

  54 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  LADY SIMS (suddenly showing thai she knows him). Oh, he wouldn't like that !

  (And it is here that HARRY re-enters in his city garments, looking so gay, feeling so jolly that we bleed for him. However, the annoying KATHERINE is to get a shock also.) LADY SIMS. This is the lady, Harry. SIR HARRY (shooting his cuffs). Yes, yes. Good morning, my dear.

  (Then they see each other, and their mouths open, but not for words. After the first surprise KATE seems to find some humour in the situation, but HARRY lowers like a thunder- cloud.) LADY SIMS (who has seen nothing). I have

  been trying to explain to her

  SIR HARRY. Eh what? (He controls him self.) Leave it to me, Emmy; I '11 attend to her.

  (LADY SIMS goes, with a dread fear that somehow she has vexed her lord,

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 55

  and then HARRY attends to the in truder.)

  SIR HARRY (with concentrated scorn). You ! KATE (as if agreeing with him). Yes, it 's

  funny. SIR HARRY. The shamelessness of your daring

  to come here. KATE. Believe me, it is not less a surprise

  to me than it is to you. I was sent here

  in the ordinary way of business. I was

  given only the number of the house. I

  was not told the name. SIR HARRY (withering her). The ordinary

  way of business ! This is what you have

  fallen to a typist ! KATE (unwithered) . Think of it ! SIR HARRY. After going through worse

  straits, I '11 be bound. KATE (with some grim memories). Much

  worse straits. SIR HARRY (alas, laughing coarsely). My

  congratulations ! KATE. Thank you, Harry.

  56 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  SIR HARRY (who is annoyed, as any man

  would be, not to find her abject).

  Eh? What was that you called me,

  madam? KATE. Isn't it Harry? On my soul, I

  almost forget. SIR HARRY. It isn't Harry to you. My

  name is Sims, if you please. KATE. Yes, I had not forgotten that. It

  was my name, too, you see. SIR HARRY (in his best manner). It was

  your name till you forfeited the right

  to bear it. KATE. Exactly. SIR HARRY (gloating). I was furious to find

  you here, but on second thoughts it

  pleases me. (From the depths of his

  moral nature) There is a grim justice

  in this.

  KATE (sympathetically). Tell me? SIR HARRY. Do you know what you were

  brought here to do ? KATE. I have just been learning. You

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 57

  have been made a knight, and I was summoned to answer the messages of congratulation . SIR HARRY. That 's it, that 's it. You come

  on this day as my servant ! KATE. I, who might have been Lady Sims. SIR HARRY. And you are her typist instead. And she has four men-servants. Oh, I am glad you saw her in her presentation gown.

  KATE. I wonder if she would let me do her washing, Sir Harry ?

  (Her want of taste disgusts him.} SIR HARRY (with dignity). You can go. The mere thought that only a few flights of stairs separates such as you from my

  innocent children

  (He will never know why a new light

  has come into her face.) KATE (slowly). You have children? SIR HARRY (inflated). Two.

  (He wonders why she is so long in answering^

  58 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  KATE (resorting to impertinence). Such a nice

  number. SIR HARRY (with an extra turn of the screw).

  Both boys. KATE. Successful in everything. Are they

  like you, Sir Harry ? SIR HARRY (expanding). They are very like

  me. KATE. That 's nice.

  (Even on such a subject as this she can

  be ribald.)

  SIR HARRY. Will you please to go. KATE. Heigho! What shall I say to my

  employer ?

  SIR HARRY. That is no affair of mine. KATE. What will you say to Lady Sims ? SIR HARRY. I flatter myself that whatever

  I say, Lady Sims will accept without

  comment.

  (She smiles, heaven knows why, unless

  her next remark explains it.) KATE. Still the same Harry. SIR HARRY. What do you mean ?

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 59

  KATE. Only that you have the old confidence in your profound knowledge of the sex.

  SIR HARRY (beginning to think as little of her intellect as of her morals). I suppose I know my wife.

  KATE (hopelessly dense). I suppose so. I was only remembering that you used to think you knew her in the days when I was the lady. (He is merely wasting his time on her, and he indicates the door. She is not sufficiently the lady to retire worsted.) Well, good - bye, Sir Harry. Won't you ring, and the four men-servants will show me out? (But he hesitates.)

  SIR HARRY (in spite of himself). As you are here, there is something I want to get out of you. (Wishing he could ask it less eagerly.) Tell me, who was the man?

  (The strange woman it is evident now that she has always been strange to him smiles tolerantly.)

  60 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  KATE. You never found out ?

  SIR HARRY. I could never be sure.

  KATE (reflectively). I thought that would worry you.

  SIR HARRY (sneering). It 's plain that he soon left you.

  KATE. Very soon.

  SIR HARRY. As I could have told you. (But still she surveys him with the smile of Monna Lisa. The badgered man has to entreat.) Who was he? It was fourteen years ago, and cannot matter to any of us now. Kate, tell me who he was ?

  (It is his first youthful moment, and perhaps because of that she does not wish to hurt him.)

  KATE (shaking a motherly head). Better not ask.

  SIR HARRY. I do ask. Tell me.

  KATE. It is kinder not to tell you.

  SIR HARRY (violently). Then, by James, it was one of my own pals. Was it Ber-

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 61

  nard Roche? (She shakes her head.) It may have been some one who comes to my house still.

  KATE. I think not. (Reflecting) Fourteen years! You found my letter that night when you went home ?

  SIR HARRY (impatient). Yes.

  KATE. I propped it against the decanters. I thought you would be sure to see it there. It was a room not unlike this, and the furniture was arranged in the same attractive way. How it all comes -Back to me. Don't you see me, Harry, in hat and cloak, putting the letter there, taking a last look round, and then steal ing out into the night to meet

  SIR HARRY. Whom?

  KATE. Him. Hours pass, no sound in the room but the tick-tack of the clock, and then about midnight you return alone. You take

  SIR HENRY (gruffly). I wasn't alone.

  KATE (the picture spoilt). No? oh. (Plain-

  62 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  lively) Here have I all these years been conceiving it wrongly. (She studies his face.) I believe something interesting happened ?

  SIR HARRY (growling). Something con foundedly annoying.

  KATE (coaxing). Do tell me.

  SIR HARRY. We won't go into that. Who was the man? Surely a husband has a right to know with whom his wife bolted.

  KATE (who is detestably ready with her tongue). Surely the wife has a right to know how he took it. (The woman 9 s love of bargain ing comes to her aid.) A fair exchange. You tell me what happened, and I will tell you who he was.

  SIR HARRY. You will? Very well. (It is the first point on which they have agreed, and, forgetting himself, he takes a place beside her on the fire-seat. He is thinking only of what he is to tell her, but she, woman- like, is conscious of the
ir proximity.)

  KATE (tastelessly). Quite like old times. (He

  THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK 63

  moves away from her indignantly.) Go

  on, Harry. SIR HARRY (who has a manful shrinking from

  saying anything that is to his disadvantage).

  Well, as you know, I was dining at the

  club that night. KATE. Yes. SIR HARRY. Jack Lamb drove me home.

  Mabbett Green was with us, and I asked

  them to come in for a few minutes. KATE. Jack Lamb, Mabbett Green? I

  think I remember them. Jack was in

  Parliament. SIR HARRY. No, that was Mabbett. They

  came into the house with me and (with

  sudden horror) was it him ? KATE (bewildered). Who? SIR HARRY. Mabbett? KATE. What? SIR HARRY. The man ? KATE. What man? (understanding) Oh no.

  I thought you said he came into the house

  with you.

  64 THE TWELVE-POUND LOOK

  SIR HARRY. It might have been a blind.

  KATE. Well, it wasn't. Go on.

  SIR HARRY. They came in to finish a talk we had been having at the club.

  KATE. An interesting talk, evidently.

  SIR HARRY. The papers had been full that evening of the elopement of some countes woman with a fiddler. What was her name?

  KATE. Does it matter ?

 

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