Three Plays by Granville-Barker Part 58

PEACEY. And then, sir . . I don't want to hurt your feelings, but things simply cannot go on for ever. The marvel to me is that the game has been kept up as it has. So now, if he does well at Cambridge, I hope he'll go to the bar. He has a distinct talent for patiently applying himself to the details of a thing.

EDWARD. I hope he'll do well. I'm glad to have had this talk with you, Peacey. I'm sorry you can't have the money you want.

_He returns to his letters, a little steely-eyed._ PEACEY _quite at his ease, makes for the door yet again, saying_ . .

PEACEY. Oh, any time will do, sir.

EDWARD. You can't have the money at all.

PEACEY. [_brought up short._] Can't I?

EDWARD. [_very decidedly indeed._] No . . I made up my mind about that eighteen months ago. Since my father's death the trust business of the firm has not been conducted as it was formerly. We no longer make illicit profits out of our clients. There are none for you to share.

_Having thus given the explanation he considers due, he goes on with his work. But_ PEACEY _has flushed up_.

PEACEY. Look here, Mr. Edward, I'm sorry I began this discussion. You'll give me my two hundred as usual, please, and we'll drop the subject.

EDWARD. By all means drop the subject.

PEACEY. [_his voice rising sharply._] I want the money. I think it is not gentlemanly in you, Mr. Edward, to make these excuses to try to get out of paying it me. Your father would never have made such an excuse.

EDWARD. [_flabbergasted._] Do you think I'm lying to you?

PEACEY. [_with a deprecating swallow._] I don't wish to criticise your statements or your actions at all, sir. It was no concern of mine how your father treated his clients.

EDWARD. I understand. And now it's no concern of yours how honest I am.

You want your money just the same.

PEACEY. Well, don't be sarcastic . . a man does get used to a state of affairs whatever it may be.

EDWARD. [_with considerable force._] My friend, if I drop sarcasm I shall have to tell you very candidly what I think of you.

PEACEY. That I'm a thief because I've taken money from a thief!

EDWARD. Worse than a thief. You're content that others should steal for you.

PEACEY. And who isn't?

EDWARD _is really pleased with the aptness of this. He at once changes his tone, which indeed had become rather bullying._

EDWARD. Ah, Peacey, I perceive that you study sociology. Well, that's too big a question to enter into now. The application of the present portion of it is that I have for the moment, at some inconvenience to myself, ceased to receive stolen goods and therefore am in a position to throw a stone at you. I have thrown it.

PEACEY, _who would far sooner be bullied than talked to like this, turns very sulky_.

PEACEY. And now I'm to leave the firm, I suppose?

EDWARD. Not unless you wish.

PEACEY. I happen to think the secret's worth its price.

EDWARD. Perhaps someone will pay it you.

PEACEY. [_feebly threatening._] You're presuming upon its not being worth my while to make use of what I know.

EDWARD. [_not unkindly._] My good Peacey, it happens to be the truth I told you just now. Well, how on earth do you suppose you can successfully blackmail a man, who has so much to gain by exposure and so little to lose as I?

PEACEY. [_peeving._] I don't want to ruin you, sir, and I have a great regard for the firm . . but you must see that I can't have my income reduced in this way without a struggle.

EDWARD. [_with great cheerfulness._] Very well, my friend, struggle away.

PEACEY. [_his voice rising high and thin._] For one thing, sir, I don't think it fair dealing on your part to dock the money suddenly. I have been counting on it most of the year, and I have been led into heavy expenses. Why couldn't you have warned me?

EDWARD. That's true, Peacey, it was stupid of me. I apologise for the mistake.

PEACEY _is a little comforted by this quite candid acknowledgment_.

PEACEY. Perhaps things may be easier for you by next Christmas.

EDWARD. I hope so.

PEACEY. Then . . perhaps you won't be so particular.

_At this gentle insinuation_ EDWARD _looks up exasperated_.

EDWARD. So you don't believe what I told you?

PEACEY. Yes, I do.

EDWARD. Then you think that the fascination of swindling one's clients will ultimately prove irresistible?

PEACEY. It's what happened to your father, I suppose you know.

_This gives_ EDWARD _such pause that he drops his masterful tone_.

EDWARD. I didn't.

PEACEY. He got things as right as rain once.

EDWARD. Did he?

PEACEY. . . My father told me. Then he started again.

EDWARD. But how did you find that out?

PEACEY. [_expanding pleasantly._] Well, being so long in his service, I grew to understand your father. But when I first came into the firm, I simply hated him. He was that sour; so snappy with everyone . . as if he had a grievance against the whole world.

EDWARD. [_pensively._] It seems he had in those days.