Three Plays by Granville-Barker Part 33

MRS. OPIE. Markswayde is to let . . as I hear . . Mr. Leete?

CARNABY. Markswayde is to let.

_He goes on his way to the dining-room meeting_ SARAH _who comes out carrying a gla.s.s of water and a decanter of brandy_. SIR GEORGE LEETE _is comfortably warming himself at the fire_.

_The living room of_ JOHN ABUD'S _new cottage has bare plaster walls and its ceilings and floor are of red brick; all fresh looking but not new.

In the middle of the middle wall there is a latticed window, dimity curtained; upon the plain shelf in front are several flower-pots._

_To the right of this, a door, cross beamed and with a large lock to it besides the latch._

_Against the right hand wall, is a dresser, furnished with dishes and plates: below it is a common looking grandfather clock; below this a small door which when opened shows winding stairs leading to the room above. In the left hand wall there is a door which is almost hidden by the fireplace which juts out below it. In the fireplace a wood fire is laid but not lit. At right angles to this stands a heavy oak settle opposite a plain deal table; just beyond which is a little bench. On either side of the window is a Windsor armchair. Between the window and the door hangs a framed sampler._

_In the darkness the sound of the unlocking of a door and of_ ABUD _entering is heard. He walks to the table, strikes a light upon a tinder-box and lights a candle which he finds there._ ANN _is standing in the doorway_. ABUD _is in stocking feet_.

ABUD. Don't come further. Here are your slippers.

_He places one of the Windsor chairs for her on which she sits while he takes off her wet shoes and puts on her slippers which he found on the table. Then he takes her wet shoes to the fireplace. She sits still.

Then he goes to the door and brings in his own boots from the little porch and puts them in the fireplace too. Then he locks the door and hangs up the key beside it. Then he stands looking at her; but she does not speak, so he takes the candle, lifts it above his head and walks to the dresser._

ABUD. [_Encouragingly._] Our dresser . . Thomas Jupp made that. Plates and dishes. Here's Uncle Prestige's clock.

ANN. Past seven.

ABUD. That's upstairs. Table and bench, deal. Oak settle . . solid.

ANN. Charming.

ABUD. Windsor chairs . . Mother's sampler.

ANN. Home.

ABUD. Is it as you wish? I have been glad at your not seeing it until to-night.

ANN. I'm sinking into the strangeness of the place.

ABUD. Very weary? It's been a long nine miles.

_She does not answer. He goes and considers the flower-pots in the window._

ANN. I still have on my cloak.

ABUD. Hang it behind the door there . . no matter if the wet drips.

ANN. . . I can wipe up the puddle.

_She hangs up her cloak. He selects a flower-pot and brings it to her._

ABUD. Hyacinth bulbs for the spring.

ANN. [_After a glance._] I don't want to hold them.

_He puts back the pot, a little disappointed._

ABUD. Out there's the scullery.

ANN. It's very cold.

ABUD. If we light the fire now that means more trouble in the morning.

_She sits on the settle._

ANN. Yes, I am very weary.

ABUD. Go to bed.

ANN. Not yet. [_After a moment._] How much light one candle gives! Sit where I may see you.

_He sits on the bench. She studies him curiously._

ANN. Well . . this is an experiment.

ABUD. [_With reverence._] G.o.d help us both.

ANN. Amen. Some people are so careful of their lives. If we fail miserably we'll hold our tongues . . won't we?

ABUD. I don't know . . I can't speak of this.

ANN. These impossible things which are done mustn't be talked of . .

that spoils them. We don't want to boast of this, do we?

ABUD. I fancy n.o.body quite believes that we are married.

ANN. Here's my ring . . real gold.

ABUD. [_With a sudden fierce throw up of his head._] Never you remind me of the difference between us.

ANN. Don't speak to me so.

ABUD. Now I'm your better.

ANN. My master . . The door's locked.

ABUD. [_Nodding._] I know that I must be . . or be a fool.

ANN. [_After a moment._] Be kind to me.

ABUD. [_With remorse._] Always I will.