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MRS HUSHABYE. How do you know?
ELLIE. Shakespeare would have said if he was. Hesione, there are men who have done wonderful things: men like Oth.e.l.lo, only, of course, white, and very handsome, and--
MRS HUSHABYE. Ah! Now we're coming to it. Tell me all about him. I knew there must be somebody, or you'd never have been so miserable about Mangan: you'd have thought it quite a lark to marry him.
ELLIE [blus.h.i.+ng vividly]. Hesione, you are dreadful. But I don't want to make a secret of it, though of course I don't tell everybody. Besides, I don't know him.
MRS HUSHABYE. Don't know him! What does that mean?
ELLIE. Well, of course I know him to speak to.
MRS HUSHABYE. But you want to know him ever so much more intimately, eh?
ELLIE. No, no: I know him quite--almost intimately.
MRS HUSHABYE. You don't know him; and you know him almost intimately.
How lucid!
ELLIE. I mean that he does not call on us. I--I got into conversation with him by chance at a concert.
MRS HUSHABYE. You seem to have rather a gay time at your concerts, Ellie.
ELLIE. Not at all: we talk to everyone in the greenroom waiting for our turns. I thought he was one of the artists: he looked so splendid. But he was only one of the committee. I happened to tell him that I was copying a picture at the National Gallery. I make a little money that way. I can't paint much; but as it's always the same picture I can do it pretty quickly and get two or three pounds for it. It happened that he came to the National Gallery one day.
MRS HUSHABYE. One students' day. Paid sixpence to stumble about through a crowd of easels, when he might have come in next day for nothing and found the floor clear! Quite by accident?
ELLIE [triumphantly]. No. On purpose. He liked talking to me. He knows lots of the most splendid people. Fas.h.i.+onable women who are all in love with him. But he ran away from them to see me at the National Gallery and persuade me to come with him for a drive round Richmond Park in a taxi.
MRS HUSHABYE. My pettikins, you have been going it. It's wonderful what you good girls can do without anyone saying a word.
ELLIE. I am not in society, Hesione. If I didn't make acquaintances in that way I shouldn't have any at all.
MRS HUSHABYE. Well, no harm if you know how to take care of yourself.
May I ask his name?
ELLIE [slowly and musically]. Marcus Darnley.
MRS HUSHABYE [echoing the music]. Marcus Darnley! What a splendid name!
ELLIE. Oh, I'm so glad you think so. I think so too; but I was afraid it was only a silly fancy of my own.
MRS HUSHABYE. Hm! Is he one of the Aberdeen Darnleys?
ELLIE. n.o.body knows. Just fancy! He was found in an antique chest--
MRS HUSHABYE. A what?
ELLIE. An antique chest, one summer morning in a rose garden, after a night of the most terrible thunderstorm.
MRS HUSHABYE. What on earth was he doing in the chest? Did he get into it because he was afraid of the lightning?
ELLIE. Oh, no, no: he was a baby. The name Marcus Darnley was embroidered on his baby clothes. And five hundred pounds in gold.
MRS HUSHABYE [Looking hard at her]. Ellie!
ELLIE. The garden of the Viscount--
MRS HUSHABYE. --de Rougemont?
ELLIE [innocently]. No: de Larochejaquelin. A French family. A vicomte.
His life has been one long romance. A tiger--
MRS HUSHABYE. Slain by his own hand?
ELLIE. Oh, no: nothing vulgar like that. He saved the life of the tiger from a hunting party: one of King Edward's hunting parties in India.
The King was furious: that was why he never had his military services properly recognized. But he doesn't care. He is a Socialist and despises rank, and has been in three revolutions fighting on the barricades.
MRS HUSHABYE. How can you sit there telling me such lies? You, Ellie, of all people! And I thought you were a perfectly simple, straightforward, good girl.
ELLIE [rising, dignified but very angry]. Do you mean you don't believe me?
MRS HUSHABYE. Of course I don't believe you. You're inventing every word of it. Do you take me for a fool?
Ellie stares at her. Her candor is so obvious that Mrs Hushabye is puzzled.
ELLIE. Goodbye, Hesione. I'm very sorry. I see now that it sounds very improbable as I tell it. But I can't stay if you think that way about me.
MRS HUSHABYE [catching her dress]. You shan't go. I couldn't be so mistaken: I know too well what liars are like. Somebody has really told you all this.
ELLIE [flus.h.i.+ng]. Hesione, don't say that you don't believe him. I couldn't bear that.
MRS HUSHABYE [soothing her]. Of course I believe him, dearest. But you should have broken it to me by degrees. [Drawing her back to her seat].
Now tell me all about him. Are you in love with him?
ELLIE. Oh, no. I'm not so foolish. I don't fall in love with people. I'm not so silly as you think.
MRS HUSHABYE. I see. Only something to think about--to give some interest and pleasure to life.
ELLIE. Just so. That's all, really.
MRS HUSHABYE. It makes the hours go fast, doesn't it? No tedious waiting to go to sleep at nights and wondering whether you will have a bad night. How delightful it makes waking up in the morning! How much better than the happiest dream! All life transfigured! No more wis.h.i.+ng one had an interesting book to read, because life is so much happier than any book! No desire but to be alone and not to have to talk to anyone: to be alone and just think about it.
ELLIE [embracing her]. Hesione, you are a witch. How do you know? Oh, you are the most sympathetic woman in the world!
MRS HUSHABYE [caressing her]. Pettikins, my pettikins, how I envy you!
and how I pity you!
ELLIE. Pity me! Oh, why?