Джон Голсуорси
A Family Man
SCENE II
The Studio, to which are attached living rooms, might be rented at eighty pounds a year – some painting and gear indeed, but an air of life rather than of work. Things strewn about. Bare walls, a sloping skylight, no windows; no fireplace visible; a bedroom door, stage Right; a kitchen door, stage Left. A door, Centre back, into the street. The door knocker is going.
From the kitchen door, Left, comes the very young person, ANNIE, in blotting-paper blue linen, with a white Dutch cap. She is pretty, her cheeks rosy, and her forehead puckered. She opens the street door. Standing outside is TOPPING. He steps in a pace or two.
TOPPING. Miss Builder live here?
ANNIE. Oh! no, sir; Mrs Herringhame.
TOPPING. Mrs Herringhame? Oh! young lady with dark hair and large expressive eyes?
ANNIE. Oh! yes, sir.
TOPPING. With an "A. B." on her linen? [Moves to table].
ANNIE. Yes, sir.
TOPPING. And "Athene Builder" on her drawings?
ANNIE. [Looking at one] Yes, sir.
TOPPING. Let's see. [He examines the drawing] Mrs Herringhame, you said?
ANNIE. Oh! yes, Sir.
TOPPING. Wot oh!
ANNIE. Did you want anything, sir?
TOPPING. Drop the "sir," my dear; I'm the Builders' man. Mr Herringhame in?
ANNIE. Oh! no, Sir.
TOPPING. Take a message. I can't wait. From Miss Maud Builder. "Look out! Father is coming." Now, whichever of 'em comes in first – that's the message, and don't you forget it.
ANNIE. Oh! no, Sir.
TOPPING. So they're married?
ANNIE. Oh! I don't know, sir.
TOPPING. I see. Well, it ain't known to Builder, J.P., either. That's why there's a message. See?
ANNIE. Oh! yes, Sir.
TOPPING. Keep your head. I must hop it. From Miss Maud Builder. "Look out! Father is coming."
He nods, turns and goes, pulling the door to behind him. ANNIE stands "baff" for a moment.
ANNIE. Ah!
She goes across to the bedroom on the Right, and soon returns with a suit of pyjamas, a toothbrush, a pair of slippers and a case of razors, which she puts on the table, and disappears into the kitchen. She reappears with a bread pan, which she deposits in the centre of the room; then crosses again to the bedroom, and once more reappears with a clothes brush, two hair brushes, and a Norfolk jacket. As she stuffs all these into the bread pan and bears it back into the kitchen, there is the sound of a car driving up and stopping. ANNIE reappears at the kitchen door just as the knocker sounds.
ANNIE. Vexin' and provokin'! [Knocker again. She opens the door] Oh!
MR and MRS BUILDER enter.
BUILDER. Mr and Mrs Builder. My daughter in?
ANNIE. [Confounded] Oh! Sir, no, sir.
BUILDER. My good girl, not "Oh! Sir, no, sir." Simply: No, Sir. See?
ANNIE. Oh! Sir, yes, Sir.
BUILDER. Where is she?
ANNIE. Oh! Sir, I don't know, Sir.
BUILDER. [Fixing her as though he suspected her of banter] Will she be back soon?
ANNIE. No, Sir.
BUILDER. How do you know?
ANNIE. I d – don't, sir.
BUILDER. They why do you say so? [About to mutter "She's an idiot!" he looks at her blushing face and panting figure, pats her on the shoulder and says] Never mind; don't be nervous.
ANNIE. Oh! yes, sir. Is that all, please, sir?
MRS BUILDER. [With a side look at her husband and a faint smile] Yes; you can go.
ANNIE. Thank you, ma'am.
She turns and hurries out into the kitchen, Left. BUILDER gazes after her, and MRS BUILDER gazes at BUILDER with her faint smile.
BUILDER. [After the girl is gone] Quaint and Dutch – pretty little figure! [Staring round] H'm! Extraordinary girls are! Fancy Athene preferring this to home. What?
MRS BUILDER. I didn't say anything.
BUILDER. [Placing a chair for his wife, and sitting down himself] Well, we must wait, I suppose. Confound that Nixon legacy! If Athene hadn't had that potty little legacy left her, she couldn't have done this. Well, I daresay it's all spent by now. I made a mistake to lose my temper with her.
MRS BUILDER. Isn't it always a mistake to lose one's temper?
BUILDER. That's very nice and placid; sort of thing you women who live sheltered lives can say. I often wonder if you women realise the strain on a business man.
MRS BUILDER. [In her softly ironical voice] It seems a shame to add the strain of family life.
BUILDER. You've always been so passive. When I want a thing, I've got to have it.
MRS BUILDER. I've noticed that.
BUILDER. [With a short laugh] Odd if you hadn't, in twenty-three years. [Touching a canvas standing against the chair with his toe] Art! Just a pretext. We shall be having Maud wanting to cut loose next. She's very restive. Still, I oughtn't to have had that scene with Athene. I ought to have put quiet pressure.
MRS BUILDER Smiles.
BUILDER. What are you smiling at?
MRS BUILDER shrugs her shoulders.
Look at this – Cigarettes! [He examines the brand on the box] Strong, very – and not good! [He opens the door] Kitchen! [He shuts it, crosses, and opens the door, Right] Bedroom!
MRS BUILDER. [To his disappearing form] Do you think you ought, John?
He has disappeared, and she ends with an expressive movement of her hands, a long sigh, and a closing of her eyes. BUILDER'S peremptory voice is heard: "Julia!"
What now?
She follows into the bedroom. The maid ANNIE puts her head out of the kitchen door; she comes out a step as if to fly; then, at BUILDER'S voice, shrinks back into the kitchen.
BUILDER, reappearing with a razor strop in one hand and a shaving-brush in the other, is followed by MRS BUILDER.
BUILDER. Explain these! My God! Where's that girl?
MRS BUILDER. John! Don't! [Getting between him and the kitchen door] It's not dignified.
BUILDER. I don't care a damn.
MRS BUILDER. John, you mustn't. Athene has the tiny beginning of a moustache, you know.
BUILDER. What! I shall stay and clear this up if I have to wait a week. Men who let their daughters – ! This age is the limit. [He makes a vicious movement with the strop, as though laying it across someone's back.]
MRS BUILDER. She would never stand that. Even wives object, nowadays.
BUILDER. [Grimly] The war's upset everything. Women are utterly out of hand. Why the deuce doesn't she come?
MRS BUILDER. Suppose you leave me here to see her.
BUILDER. [Ominously] This is my job.
MRS BUILDER. I think it's more mine.
BUILDER. Don't stand there opposing everything I say! I'll go and have another look – [He is going towards the bedroom when the sound of a latchkey in the outer door arrests him. He puts the strop and brush behind his back, and adds in a low voice] Here she is!
MRS BUILDER has approached him, and they have both turned towards the opening door. GUY HERRINGHAME comes in. They are a little out of his line of sight, and he has shut the door before he sees them. When he does, his mouth falls open, and his hand on to the knob of the door. He is a comely young man in Harris tweeds. Moreover, he is smoking. He would speak if he could, but his surprise is too excessive. BUILDER. Well, sir?
GUY. [Recovering a little] I was about to say the same to you, sir.
BUILDER. [Very red from repression] These rooms are not yours, are they?
GUY. Nor yours, sir?
BUILDER. May I ask if you know whose they are?
GUY. My sister's.
BUILDER. Your – you – !
MRS BUILDER. John!
BUILDER. Will you kindly tell me why your sister signs her drawings by the name of my daughter, Athene Builder – and has a photograph of my wife hanging there?
The YOUNG MAN looks at MRS BUILDER and winces, but recovers himself.
GUY. [Boldly] As a matter of fact this is my sister's studio; she's in France – and has a friend staying here.
BUILDER. Oh! And you have a key?
GUY. My sister's.
BUILDER. Does your sister shave?
GUY. I – I don't think so.
BUILDER. No. Then perhaps you'll tell me what these mean? [He takes out the strop and shaving stick].
GUY. Oh! Ah! Those things?
BUILDER. Yes. Now then?
GUY. [Addressing MRS BUILDER] Need we go into this in your presence, ma'am? It seems rather delicate.
BUILDER. What explanation have you got?
GUY. Well, you see —
BUILDER. No lies; out with it!
GUY. [With decision] I prefer to say nothing.
BUILDER. What's your name?
GUY. Guy Herringhame.
BUILDER. Do you live here?
Guy makes no sign.
MRS BUILDER. [To Guy] I think you had better go.
BUILDER. Julia, will you leave me to manage this?
MRS BUILDER. [To Guy] When do you expect my daughter in?
GUY. Now – directly.
MRS BUILDER. [Quietly] Are you married to her?
GUY. Yes. That is – no – o; not altogether, I mean.
BUILDER. What's that? Say that again!
GUY. [Folding his arms] I'm not going to say another word.
BUILDER. I am.
MRS BUILDER. John – please!
BUILDER. Don't put your oar in! I've had wonderful patience so far. [He puts his boot through a drawing] Art! This is what comes of it! Are you an artist?
GUY. No; a flying man. The truth is —
BUILDER. I don't want to hear you speak the truth. I'll wait for my daughter.
GUY. If you do, I hope you'll be so very good as to be gentle. If you get angry I might too, and that would be awfully ugly.
BUILDER. Well, I'm damned!
GUY. I quite understand that, sir. But, as a man of the world, I hope you'll take a pull before she comes, if you mean to stay.
BUILDER. If we mean to stay! That's good!
GUY. Will you have a cigarette?
BUILDER. I – I can't express —
GUY. [Soothingly] Don't try, sir. [He jerks up his chin, listening] I think that's her. [Goes to the door] Yes. Now, please! [He opens the door] Your father and mother, Athene.
ATHENE enters. She is flushed and graceful. Twenty-two, with a short upper lip, a straight nose, dark hair, and glowing eyes. She wears bright colours, and has a slow, musical voice, with a slight lisp.
ATHENE. Oh! How are you, mother dear? This is rather a surprise. Father always keeps his word, so I certainly didn't expect him. [She looks steadfastly at BUILDER, but does not approach].
BUILDER. [Controlling himself with an effort] Now, Athene, what's this?
ATHENE. What's what?
BUILDER. [The strop held out] Are you married to this – this – ?
ATHENE. [Quietly] To all intents and purposes.
BUILDER. In law?
ATHENE. No.
BUILDER. My God! You – you – !
ATHENE. Father, don't call names, please.
BUILDER. Why aren't you married to him?
ATHENE. Do you want a lot of reasons, or the real one?
BUILDER. This is maddening! [Goes up stage].
ATHENE. Mother dear, will you go into the other room with Guy? [She points to the door Right].
BUILDER. Why?
ATHENE. Because I would rather she didn't hear the reason.
GUY. [To ATHENE, sotto voce] He's not safe.
ATHENE. Oh! yes; go on.
Guy follows MRS BUILDER, and after hesitation at the door they go out into the bedroom.
BUILDER. Now then!
ATHENE. Well, father, if you want to know the real reason, it's – you.
BUILDER. What on earth do you mean?
ATHENE. Guy wants to marry me. In fact, we – But I had such a stunner of marriage from watching you at home, that I —
BUILDER. Don't be impudent! My patience is at breaking-point, I warn you.
ATHENE. I'm perfectly serious, Father. I tell you, we meant to marry, but so far I haven't been able to bring myself to it. You never noticed how we children have watched you.
BUILDER. Me?
ATHENE. Yes. You and mother, and other things; all sorts of things —
BUILDER. [Taking out a handkerchief and wiping his brow] I really think you're mad.
ATHENE. I'm sure you must, dear.
BUILDER. Don't "dear" me! What have you noticed? D'you mean I'm not a good husband and father?
ATHENE. Look at mother. I suppose you can't, now; you're too used to her.
BUILDER. Of course I'm used to her. What else is marrying for?
ATHENE. That; and the production of such as me. And it isn't good enough, father. You shouldn't have set us such a perfect example.
BUILDER. You're talking the most arrant nonsense I ever heard. [He lifts his hands] I've a good mind to shake it out of you.
ATHENE. Shall I call Guy?
He drops his hands.
Confess that being a good husband and father has tried you terribly. It has us, you know.
BUILDER. [Taking refuge in sarcasm] When you've quite done being funny, perhaps you'll tell me why you've behaved like a common street flapper.
ATHENE. [Simply] I couldn't bear to think of Guy as a family man. That's all – absolutely. It's not his fault; he's been awfully anxious to be one.
BUILDER. You've disgraced us, then; that's what it comes to.
ATHENE. I don't want to be unkind, but you've brought it on yourself.
BUILDER. [Genuinely distracted] I can't even get a glimmer of what you mean. I've never been anything but firm. Impatient, perhaps. I'm not an angel; no ordinary healthy man is. I've never grudged you girls any comfort, or pleasure.
ATHENE. Except wills of our own.
BUILDER. What do you want with wills of your own till you're married?
ATHENE. You forget mother!
BUILDER. What about her?
ATHENE. She's very married. Has she a will of her own?
BUILDER. [Sullenly] She's learnt to know when I'm in the right.
ATHENE. I don't ever mean to learn to know when Guy's in the right. Mother's forty-one, and twenty-three years of that she's been your wife. It's a long time, father. Don't you ever look at her face?
BUILDER. [Troubled in a remote way] Rubbish!
ATHENE. I didn't want my face to get like that.
BUILDER. With such views about marriage, what business had you to go near a man? Come, now!
ATHENE. Because I fell in love.
BUILDER. Love leads to marriage – and to nothing else, but the streets. What an example to your sister!
ATHENE. You don't know Maud any more than you knew me. She's got a will of her own too, I can tell you.
BUILDER. Now, look here, Athene. It's always been my way to face accomplished facts. What's done can't be undone; but it can be remedied. You must marry this young – at once, before it gets out. He's behaved like a ruffian: but, by your own confession, you've behaved worse. You've been bitten by this modern disease, this – this, utter lack of common decency. There's an eternal order in certain things, and marriage is one of them; in fact, it's the chief. Come, now. Give me a promise, and I'll try my utmost to forget the whole thing.
ATHENE. When we quarrelled, father, you said you didn't care what became of me.
BUILDER. I was angry.
ATHENE. So you are now.
BUILDER. Come, Athene, don't be childish! Promise me!
ATHENE. [With a little shudder] No! We were on the edge of it. But now I've seen you again – Poor mother!
BUILDER. [Very angry] This is simply blasphemous. What do you mean by harping on your mother? If you think that – that – she doesn't – that she isn't —
ATHENE. Now, father!
BUILDER. I'm damned if I'll sit down under this injustice. Your mother is – is pretty irritating, I can tell you. She – she – Everything suppressed. And – and no – blood in her!
ATHENE. I knew it!
BUILDER. [Aware that he has confirmed some thought in her that he had no intention of confirming] What's that?
ATHENE. Don't you ever look at your own face, father? When you shave, for instance.
BUILDER. Of course I do.
ATHENE. It isn't satisfied, is it?
BUILDER. I don't know what on earth you mean.
ATHENE. You can't help it, but you'd be ever so much happier if you were a Mohammedan, and two or three, instead of one, had – had learned to know when you were in the right.
BUILDER. 'Pon my soul! This is outrageous!
ATHENE. Truth often is.
BUILDER. Will you be quiet?
ATHENE. I don't ever want to feel sorry for Guy in that way.
BUILDER. I think you're the most immodest – I'm ashamed that you're my daughter. If your another had ever carried on as you are now —
ATHENE. Would you have been firm with her?
BUILDER. [Really sick at heart at this unwonted mockery which meets him at every turn] Be quiet, you – !
ATHENE. Has mother never turned?
BUILDER. You're an unnatural girl! Go your own way to hell!
ATHENE. I am not coming back home, father.
BUILDER. [Wrenching open the door, Right] Julia! Come! We can't stay here.
MRS BUILDER comes forth, followed by GUY.
As for you, sir, if you start by allowing a woman to impose her crazy ideas about marriage on you, all I can say is – I despise you. [He crosses to the outer door, followed by his wife. To ATHENE] I've done with you!
He goes out. MRS BUILDER, who has so far seemed to accompany him, shuts the door quickly and remains in the studio. She stands there with that faint smile on her face, looking at the two young people.
ATHENE. Awfully sorry, mother; but don't you see what a stunner father's given me?
MRS BUILDER. My dear, all men are not alike.
GUY. I've always told her that, ma'am.
ATHENE. [Softly] Oh! mother, I'm so sorry for you.
The handle of the door is rattled, a fist is beaten on it.
[She stamps, and covers her ears] Disgusting!
GUY. Shall I – ?
MRS BUILDER. [Shaking her head] I'm going in a moment. [To ATHENE] You owe it to me, Athene.
ATHENE. Oh! if somebody would give him a lesson!
BUILDER's voice: "Julia!"
Have you ever tried, mother?
MRS BUILDER looks at the YOUNG MAN, who turns away out of hearing.
MRS BUILDER. Athene, you're mistaken. I've always stood up to him in my own way.
ATHENE. Oh! but, mother – listen!
The beating and rattling have recommenced, and the voice: "Are you coming?"
[Passionately] And that's family life! Father was all right before he married, I expect. And now it's like this. How you survive – !
MRS BUILDER. He's only in a passion, my dear.
ATHENE. It's wicked.
MRS BUILDER. It doesn't work otherwise, Athene.
A single loud bang on the door.
ATHENE. If he beats on that door again, I shall scream.
MRS BUILDER smiles, shakes her head, and turns to the door.
MRS BUILDER. Now, my dear, you're going to be sensible, to please me. It's really best. If I say so, it must be. It's all comedy, Athene.
ATHENE. Tragedy!
GUY. [Turning to them] Look here! Shall I shift him?
MRS BUILDER shakes her head and opens the door. BUILDER stands there, a furious figure.
BUILDER. Will you come, and leave that baggage and her cad?
MRS BUILDER steps quickly out and the door is closed. Guy makes an angry movement towards it.
ATHENE. Guy!
GUY. [Turning to her] That puts the top hat on. So persuasive! [He takes out of his pocket a wedding ring, and a marriage licence] Well! What's to be done with these pretty things, now?
ATHENE. Burn them!
GUY. [Slowly] Not quite. You can't imagine I should ever be like that, Athene?
ATHENE. Marriage does wonders.
GUY. Thanks.
ATHENE. Oh! Guy, don't be horrid. I feel awfully bad.
GUY. Well, what do you think I feel? "Cad!"
They turn to see ANNIE in hat and coat, with a suit-case in her hand, coming from the door Left.
ANNIE. Oh! ma'am, please, Miss, I want to go home.
GUY. [Exasperated!] She wants to go home – she wants to go home!
ATHENE. Guy! All right, Annie.
ANNIE. Oh! thank you, Miss. [She moves across in front of them].
ATHENE. [Suddenly] Annie!
ANNIE stops and turns to her.
What are you afraid of?
ANNIE. [With comparative boldness] I – I might catch it, Miss.
ATHENE. From your people?
ANNIE. Oh! no, Miss; from you. You see, I've got a young man that wants to marry me. And if I don't let him, I might get into trouble meself.
ATHENE. What sort of father and mother have you got, Annie?
ANNIE. I never thought, Miss. And of course I don't want to begin.
ATHENE. D'you mean you've never noticed how they treat each other?
ANNIE. I don't think they do, Miss.
ATHENE. Exactly.
ANNIE. They haven't time. Father's an engine driver.
GUY. And what's your young man, Annie?
ANNIE. [Embarrassed] Somethin' like you, sir. But very respectable.
ATHENE. And suppose you marry him, and he treats you like a piece of furniture?
ANNIE. I – I could treat him the same, Miss.
ATHENE. Don't you believe that, Annie!
ANNIE. He's very mild.
ATHENE. That's because he wants you. You wait till he doesn't.
ANNIE looks at GUY.
GUY. Don't you believe her, Annie; if he's decent —
ANNIE. Oh! yes, sir.
ATHENE. [Suppressing a smile] Of course – but the point is, Annie, that marriage makes all the difference.
ANNIE. Yes, Miss; that's what I thought.
ATHENE. You don't see. What I mean is that when once he's sure of you, he may change completely.
ANNIE. [Slowly, looking at her thumb] Oh! I don't – think – he'll hammer me, Miss. Of course, I know you can't tell till you've found out.
ATHENE. Well, I've no right to influence you.
ANNIE. Oh! no, Miss; that's what I've been thinking.
–GUY. You're quite right, Annie=-this is no place for you.
ANNIE. You see, we can't be married; sir, till he gets his rise. So it'll be a continual temptation to me.
ATHENE. Well, all right, Annie. I hope you'll never regret it.
ANNIE. Oh! no, Miss.
GUY. I say, Annie, don't go away thinking evil of us; we didn't realise you knew we weren't married.
ATHENE. We certainly did not.
ANNIE. Oh! I didn't think it right to take notice.
GUY. We beg your pardon.
ANNIE. Oh! no, sir. Only, seein' Mr and Mrs Builder so upset, brought it 'ome like. And father can be 'andy with a strap.
ATHENE. There you are! Force majeure!
ANNIE. Oh! yes, Miss.
ATHENE. Well, good-bye, Annie. What are you going to say to your people?
ANNIE. Oh! I shan't say I've been livin' in a family that wasn't a family, Miss. It wouldn't do no good.
ATHENE. Well, here are your wages.
ANNIE. Oh! I'm puttin' you out, Miss. [She takes the money].