Complete Plays of John Galsworthy - BestLightNovel.com
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ENID. Don't!
ANTHONY. You think with your gloved hands you can cure the trouble of the century.
[He pa.s.ses on. ]
ENID. Father!
[ANTHONY Stops at the double doors.]
I'm only thinking of you!
ANTHONY. [More softly.] I can take care of myself, my dear.
ENID. Have you thought what'll happen if you're beaten-- [she points]--in there?
ANTHONY. I don't mean to be.
ENID. Oh! Father, don't give them a chance. You're not well; need you go to the meeting at all?
ANTHONY. [With a grim smile.] Cut and run?
ENID. But they'll out-vote you!
ANTHONY. [Putting his hand on the doors.] We shall see!
ENID. I beg you, Dad! Won't you?
[ANTHONY looks at her softly.]
[ANTHONY shakes his head. He opens the doors. A buzz of voices comes in.]
SCANTLEBURY. Can one get dinner on that 6.30 train up?
TENCH. No, Sir, I believe not, sir.
WILDER. Well, I shall speak out; I've had enough of this.
EDGAR. [Sharply.] What?
[It ceases instantly. ANTHONY pa.s.ses through, closing the doors behind him. ENID springs to them with a gesture of dismay. She puts her hand on the k.n.o.b, and begins turning it; then goes to the fireplace, and taps her foot on the fender. Suddenly she rings the bell. FROST comes in by the door that leads into the hall.]
FROST. Yes, M'm?
ENID. When the men come, Frost, please show them in here; the hall 's cold.
FROST. I could put them in the pantry, M'm.
ENID. No. I don't want to--to offend them; they're so touchy.
FROST. Yes, M'm. [Pause.] Excuse me, Mr. Anthony's 'ad nothing to eat all day.
ENID. I know Frost.
FROST. Nothin' but two whiskies and sodas, M'm.
ENID. Oh! you oughtn't to have let him have those.
FROST. [Gravely.] Mr. Anthony is a little difficult, M'm. It's not as if he were a younger man, an' knew what was good for 'im; he will have his own way.
ENID. I suppose we all want that.
FROST. Yes, M'm. [Quietly.] Excuse me speakin' about the strike.
I'm sure if the other gentlemen were to give up to Mr. Anthony, and quietly let the men 'ave what they want, afterwards, that'd be the best way. I find that very useful with him at times, M'm.
[ENID shakes hey head.]
If he's crossed, it makes him violent. [with an air of discovery], and I've noticed in my own case, when I'm violent I'm always sorry for it afterwards.
ENID. [With a smile.] Are you ever violent, Frost?
FROST. Yes, M'm; oh! sometimes very violent.
ENID. I've never seen you.
FROST. [Impersonally.] No, M'm; that is so.
[ENID fidgets towards the back of the door.]
[With feeling.] Bein' with Mr. Anthony, as you know, M'm, ever since I was fifteen, it worries me to see him crossed like this at his age.
I've taken the liberty to speak to Mr. w.a.n.klin [dropping his voice]-- seems to be the most sensible of the gentlemen--but 'e said to me: "That's all very well, Frost, but this strike's a very serious thing," 'e said. "Serious for all parties, no doubt," I said, "but yumour 'im, sir," I said, "yumour 'im. It's like this, if a man comes to a stone wall, 'e does n't drive 'is 'ead against it, 'e gets over it." "Yes," 'e said, "you'd better tell your master that."
[FROST looks at his nails.] That's where it is, M'm. I said to Mr.
Anthony this morning: "Is it worth it, sir?" "d.a.m.n it," he said to me, "Frost! Mind your own business, or take a month's notice!" Beg pardon, M'm, for using such a word.
ENID. [Moving to the double-doors, and listening.] Do you know that man Roberts, Frost?
FROST. Yes, M'm; that's to say, not to speak to. But to look at 'im you can tell what he's like.
ENID. [Stopping.] Yes?
FROST. He's not one of these 'ere ordinary 'armless Socialists.
'E's violent; got a fire inside 'im. What I call "personal." A man may 'ave what opinions 'e likes, so long as 'e 's not personal; when 'e 's that 'e 's not safe.
ENID. I think that's what my father feels about Roberts.
FROST. No doubt, M'm, Mr. Anthony has a feeling against him.
[ENID glances at him sharply, but finding him in perfect earnest, stands biting her lips, and looking at the double-doors.]
It 's, a regular right down struggle between the two. I've no patience with this Roberts, from what I 'ear he's just an ordinary workin' man like the rest of 'em. If he did invent a thing he's no worse off than 'undreds of others. My brother invented a new kind o'