JUGGINS. Yes, madam, I had. I exceeded the legal limit.
MRS GILBEY. Oh, that! Why do they give a woman a fortnight for wearing a man"s hat, and a man a month for wearing hers?
JUGGINS. I didnt know that they did, madam.
MRS GILBEY. It doesnt seem justice, does it, Juggins?
JUGGINS. No, madam.
MRS GILBEY [to Dora, rising] Well, good-bye. [Shaking her hand] So pleased to have made your acquaintance.
DORA. [standing up] Dont mention it. I"m sure it"s most kind of you to receive me at all.
MRS GILBEY. I must go off now and order lunch. [She trots to the door].
What was it you called the concertina?
DORA. A squiffer, dear.
MRS GILBEY. [thoughtfully] A squiffer, of course. How funny! [She goes out].
DORA. [exploding into ecstasies of mirth] Oh my! isnt she an old love?
How do you keep your face straight?
JUGGINS. It is what I am paid for.
DORA. [confidentially] Listen here, dear boy. Your name isnt Juggins.
n.o.body"s name is Juggins.
JUGGINS. My orders are, Miss Delaney, that you are not to be here when Mr Gilbey returns from Wormwood Scrubbs.
DORA. That means telling me to mind my own business, doesnt it? Well, I"m off. Tootle Loo, Charlie Darling. [She kisses her hand to him and goes].
ACT II
_On the afternoon of the same day, Mrs Knox is writing notes in her drawing-room, at a writing-table which stands against the wall. Anyone placed so as to see Mrs Knox"s left profile, will have the door on the right and the window an the left, both further away than Mrs Knox, whose back is presented to an obsolete upright piano at the opposite side of the room. The sofa is near the piano. There is a small table in the middle of the room, with some gilt-edged books and alb.u.ms on it, and chairs near it._
_Mr Knox comes in almost furtively, a troubled man of fifty, thinner, harder, and uglier than his partner, Gilbey, Gilbey being a soft stoutish man with white hair and thin smooth skin, whilst Knox has coa.r.s.e black hair, and blue jaws which no diligence in shaving can whiten. Mrs Knox is a plain woman, dressed without regard to fashion, with thoughtful eyes and thoughtful ways that make an atmosphere of peace and some solemnity. She is surprised to see her husband at home during business hours._
MRS KNOX. What brings you home at this hour? Have you heard anything?
KNOX. No. Have you?
MRS KNOX. No. Whats the matter?
KNOX. [sitting down on the sofa] I believe Gilbey has found out.
MRS KNOX. What makes you think that?
KNOX. Well, I dont know: I didnt like to tell you: you have enough to worry you without that; but Gilbey"s been very queer ever since it happened. I cant keep my mind on business as I ought; and I was depending on him. But hes worse than me. Hes not looking after anything; and he keeps out of my way. His manner"s not natural. He hasnt asked us to dinner; and hes never said a word about our not asking him to dinner, after all these years when weve dined every week as regular as clockwork. It looks to me as if Gilbey"s trying to drop me socially.
Well, why should he do that if he hasnt heard?
MRS KNOX. I wonder! Bobby hasnt been near us either: thats what I cant make out.
KNOX. Oh, thats nothing. I told him Margaret was down in Cornwall with her aunt.
MRS KNOX. [reproachfully] Jo! [She takes her handkerchief from the writing-table and cries a little].
KNOX. Well, I got to tell lies, aint I? You wont. Somebody"s got to tell em.
MRS KNOX. [putting away her handkerchief] It only ends in our not knowing what to believe. Mrs Gilbey told me Bobby was in Brighton for the sea air. Theres something queer about that. Gilbey would never let the boy loose by himself among the temptations of a gay place like Brighton without his tutor; and I saw the tutor in Kensington High Street the very day she told me.
KNOX. If the Gilbeys have found out, it"s all over between Bobby and Margaret, and all over between us and them.
MRS KNOX. It"s all over between us and everybody. When a girl runs away from home like that, people know what to think of her and her parents.
KNOX. She had a happy, respectable home--everything--
MRS KNOX. [interrupting him] Theres no use going over it all again, Jo.
If a girl hasnt happiness in herself, she wont be happy anywhere. Youd better go back to the shop and try to keep your mind off it.
KNOX. [rising restlessly] I cant. I keep fancying everybody knows it and is sn.i.g.g.e.ring about it. I"m at peace nowhere but here. It"s a comfort to be with you. It"s a torment to be with other people.
MRS KNOX. [going to him and drawing her arm through his] There, Jo, there! I"m sure I"d have you here always if I could. But it cant be.
G.o.d"s work must go on from day to day, no matter what comes. We must face our trouble and bear it.
KNOX. [wandering to the window arm in arm with her] Just look at the people in the street, going up and down as if nothing had happened. It seems unnatural, as if they all knew and didnt care.
MRS KNOX. If they knew, Jo, thered be a crowd round the house looking up at us. You shouldnt keep thinking about it.
KNOX. I know I shouldnt. You have your religion, Amelia; and I"m sure I"m glad it comforts you. But it doesnt come to me that way. Ive worked hard to get a position and be respectable. Ive turned many a girl out of the shop for being half an hour late at night; and heres my own daughter gone for a fortnight without word or sign, except a telegram to say shes not dead and that we"re not to worry about her.
MRS KNOX. [suddenly pointing to the street] Jo, look!
KNOX. Margaret! With a man!
MRS KNOX. Run down, Jo, quick. Catch her: save her.
KNOX. [lingering] Shes shaking bands with him: shes coming across to the door.
MRS KNOX. [energetically] Do as I tell you. Catch the man before hes out of sight.
_Knox rushes from the room. Mrs Knox looks anxiously and excitedly from the window. Then she throws up the sash and leans out. Margaret Knox comes in, fl.u.s.tered and annoyed. She is a strong, springy girl of eighteen, with large nostrils, an audacious chin, and a gaily resolute manner, even peremptory on occasions like the present, when she is annoyed._
MARGARET. Mother. Mother.