ANABEL. No, only from Derby.--How are you, Gerald?
(GERALD twists in his seat to give her his hand.)
GERALD. I saw you before.
ANABEL. Yes, I know you did.
(JOB ARTHUR has disappeared. The men disperse sheepishly into groups, to stand and sit on their heels by the walls and the causeway edge. WILLIE HOUGHTON begins to talk to individuals.)
OLIVER. Won"t you get in and drive on with us a little way?
ANABEL. No, I was going to church.
OLIVER. Going to church! Is that a new habit?
ANABEL. Not a habit. But I"ve been twice since I saw you last.
OLIVER. I see. And that"s nearly two years ago. It"s an annual thing, like a birthday?
ANABEL. No. I"ll go on, then.
OLIVER. You"ll be late now.
ANABEL. Shall I? It doesn"t matter.
OLIVER. We are going to see you again, aren"t we?
ANABEL (after a pause). Yes, I hope so, Oliver.
OLIVER. How have you been these two years--well?--happy?
ANABEL. No, neither. How have you?
OLIVER. Yes, fairly happy. Have you been ill?
ANABEL. Yes, in France I was very ill.
OLIVER. Your old neuritis?
ANABEL. No. My chest. Pneumonia--oh, a complication.
OLIVER. How sickening! Who looked after you? Is it better?
ANABEL. Yes, it"s a great deal better.
OLIVER. But, Anabel--we must fix a meeting. I say, wait just a moment.
Could I call on your people? Go into town with me one day. I don"t know whether Gerald intends to see you--whether he intends to ask you to Lilley Close.
GERALD. Oh, it"s all right.
ANABEL. He"s no need. I"m fixed up there already.
GERALD. What do you mean?
ANABEL. I am at Lilley Close every day--or most days--to work with your sister Winifred in the studio.
GERALD. What?--why, how"s that?
ANABEL. Your father asked me. My father was already giving her some lessons.
GERALD. And you"re at our house every day?
ANABEL. Most days.
GERALD. Well, I"m--well, I"ll be--you managed it very sharp, didn"t you?
I"ve only been away a fort-night.
ANABEL. Your father asked me--he offered me twelve pounds a month--I wanted to do something.
GERALD. Oh yes, but you didn"t hire yourself out at Lilley Close as a sort of upper servant just for twelve pounds a month.
ANABEL. You"re wrong--you"re wrong. I"m not a sort of upper servant at all--not at all.
GERALD. Oh, yes, you are, if you"re paid twelve pounds a month--three pounds a week. That"s about what father"s sick-nurse gets, I believe.
You don"t do it for twelve pounds a month. You can make twelve pounds in a day, if you like to work at your little models: I know you can sell your statuette things as soon as you make them.
ANABEL. But I CAN"T make them. I CAN"T make them. I"ve lost the spirit--the--_joi de vivre_--I don"t know what, since I"ve been ill. I tell you I"ve GOT to earn something.
GERALD. Nevertheless, you won"t make me believe, Anabel, that you"ve come and buried yourself in the provinces--SUCH provinces--just to earn father"s three pounds a week. Why don"t you admit it, that you came back to try and take up the old threads.
OLIVER. Why not, Gerald? Don"t you think we ought to take up the old threads?
GERALD. I don"t think we ought to be left without choice. I don"t think Anabel ought to come back and thrust herself on me--for that"s what it amounts to, after all--when one remembers what"s gone before.
ANABEL. I DON"T thrust myself on you at all. I know I"m a fool, a fool, to come back. But I wanted to. I wanted to see you again. Now I know I"ve presumed. I"ve made myself CHEAP to you. I wanted to--I wanted to.
And now I"ve done it, I won"t come to Lilley Close again, nor anywhere where you are. Tell your father I have gone to France again--it will be true.
GERALD. You play tricks on me--and on yourself. You know you do. You do it for the pure enjoyment of it. You"re making a scene here in this filthy market-place, just for the fun of it. You like to see these accursed colliers standing eyeing you, and squatting on their heels. You like to catch me out, here where I"m known, where I"ve been the object of their eyes since I was born. This is a great _coup de main_ for you.
I knew it the moment I saw you here.
OLIVER. After all, we ARE making a scene in the market-place. Get in, Anabel, and we"ll settle the dispute more privately. I"m glad you came back, anyhow. I"m glad you came right down on us. Get in, and let us run down to Whatmore.
ANABEL. No, Oliver. I don"t want to run down to Whatmore. I wanted to see you--I wanted to see Gerald--and I"ve seen him--and I"ve heard him. That will suffice me. We"ll make an end of the scene in the market-place. (She turns away.)
OLIVER. I knew it wasn"t ended. I knew she would come back and tell us she"d come. But she"s done her bit--now she"ll go again. My G.o.d, what a fool of a world!--You go on, Gerald--I"ll just go after her and see it out. (Calls.) One moment, Anabel.