第 6 页

to do me a favor before you go. Will you sign your name to this menu

card, under the sketch you have made of me?

WALPOLE. Yes; and mine too, if you will be so good.

LOUIS. Certainly. [He sits down and signs the cards].

MRS DUBEDAT. Wont you sign Dr Schutzmacher's for him, Louis?

LOUIS. I dont think Dr Schutzmacher is pleased with his portrait. I'll

tear it up. [He reaches across the table for Schutzmacher's menu card,

and is about to tear it. Schutzmacher makes no sign].

RIDGEON. No, no: if Loony doesnt want it, I do.

LOUIS. I'll sign it for you with pleasure. [He signs and hands it to

Ridgeon]. Ive just been making a little note of the river to-night:

it will work up into something good [he shews a pocket sketch-book]. I

think I'll call it the Silver Danube.

B. B. Ah, charming, charming.

WALPOLE. Very sweet. Youre a nailer at pastel.

Louis coughs, first out of modesty, then from tuberculosis.

SIR PATRICK. Now then, Mr Dubedat: youve had enough of the night air.

Take him home, maam.

MRS DUBEDAT. Yes. Come, Louis.

RIDGEON. Never fear. Never mind. I'll make that cough all right.

B. B. We will stimulate the phagocytes. [With tender effusion, shaking

her hand] Good-night, Mrs Dubedat. Good-night. Good-night.

WALPOLE. If the phagocytes fail, come to me. I'll put you right.

LOUIS. Good-night, Sir Patrick. Happy to have met you.

SIR PATRICK. Night [half a grunt].

MRS DUBEDAT. Good-night, Sir Patrick.

SIR PATRICK. Cover yourself well up. Dont think your lungs are made of

iron because theyre better than his. Good-night.

MRS DUBEDAT. Thank you. Thank you. Nothing hurts me. Good-night.

Louis goes out through the hotel without noticing Schutzmacher. Mrs

Dubedat hesitates, then bows to him. Schutzmacher rises and bows

formally, German fashion. She goes out, attended by Ridgeon. The rest

resume their seats, ruminating or smoking quietly.

B. B. [harmoniously] Dee-lightful couple! Charming woman! Gifted lad!

Remarkable talent! Graceful outlines! Perfect evening! Great success!

Interesting case! Glorious night! Exquisite scenery! Capital dinner!

Stimulating conversation! Restful outing! Good wine! Happy ending!

Touching gratitude! Lucky Ridgeon--

RIDGEON [returning] Whats that? Calling me, B. B.? [He goes back to his

seat next Sir Patrick].

B. B. No, no. Only congratulating you on a most successful evening!

Enchanting woman! Thorough breeding! Gentle nature! Refined--

Blenkinsop comes from the hotel and takes the empty chair next Ridgeon.

BLENKINSOP. I'm so sorry to have left you like this, Ridgeon; but it was

a telephone message from the police. Theyve found half a milkman at

our level crossing with a prescription of mine in its pocket. Wheres Mr

Dubedat?

RIDGEON. Gone.

BLENKINSOP [rising, very pale] Gone!

RIDGEON. Just this moment--

BLENKINSOP. Perhaps I could overtake him--[he rushes into the hotel].

WALPOLE [calling after him] He's in the motor, man, miles off. You

can--[giving it up]. No use.

RIDGEON. Theyre really very nice people. I confess I was afraid the

husband would turn out an appalling bounder. But he's almost as charming

in his way as she is in hers. And theres no mistake about his being a

genius. It's something to have got a case really worth saving. Somebody

else will have to go; but at all events it will be easy to find a worse

man.

SIR PATRICK. How do you know?

RIDGEON. Come now, Sir Paddy, no growling. Have something more to drink.

SIR PATRICK. No, thank you.

WALPOLE. Do you see anything wrong with Dubedat, B. B.?

B. B. Oh, a charming young fellow. Besides, after all, what could be

wrong with him? Look at him. What could be wrong with him?

SIR PATRICK. There are two things that can be wrong with any man. One

of them is a cheque. The other is a woman. Until you know that a man's

sound on these two points, you know nothing about him.

B. B. Ah, cynic, cynic!

WALPOLE. He's all right as to the cheque, for a while at all events.

He talked to me quite frankly before dinner as to the pressure of

money difficulties on an artist. He says he has no vices and is very

economical, but that theres one extravagance he cant afford and yet cant

resist; and that is dressing his wife prettily. So I said, bang plump

out, "Let me lend you twenty pounds, and pay me when your ship comes

home." He was really very nice about it. He took it like a man; and it

was a pleasure to see how happy it made him, poor chap.

B. B. [who has listened to Walpole with growing perturbation]

But--but--but--when was this, may I ask?

WALPOLE. When I joined you that time down by the river.

B. B. But, my dear Walpole, he had just borrowed ten pounds from me.

WALPOLE. What!

SIR PATRICK [grunts]!

B. B. [indulgently] Well, well, it was really hardly borrowing; for he

said heaven only knew when he could pay me. I couldnt refuse. It appears

that Mrs Dubedat has taken a sort of fancy to me--

WALPOLE [quickly] No: it was to me.

B. B. Certainly not. Your name was never mentioned between us. He is so

wrapped up in his work that he has to leave her a good deal alone; and

the poor innocent young fellow--he has of course no idea of my position

or how busy I am--actually wanted me to call occasionally and talk to

her.

WALPOLE. Exactly what he said to me!

B. B. Pooh! Pooh pooh! Really, I must say. [Much disturbed, he rises and

goes up to the balustrade, contemplating the landscape vexedly].

WALPOLE. Look here, Ridgeon! this is beginning to look serious.

Blenkinsop, very anxious and wretched, but trying to look unconcerned,

comes back.

RIDGEON. Well, did you catch him?

BLENKINSOP. No. Excuse my running away like that. [He sits down at the

foot of the table, next Bloomfeld Bonington's chair].

WALPOLE. Anything the matter?

BLENKINSOP. Oh no. A trifle--something ridiculous. It cant be helped.

Never mind.

RIDGEON. Was it anything about Dubedat?

BLENKINSOP [almost breaking down] I ought to keep it to myself, I know.

I cant tell you, Ridgeon, how ashamed I am of dragging my miserable

poverty to your dinner after all your kindness. It's not that you wont

ask me again; but it's so humiliating. And I did so look forward to one

evening in my dress clothes (THEYRE still presentable, you see) with all

my troubles left behind, just like old times.

RIDGEON. But what has happened?

BLENKINSOP. Oh, nothing. It's too ridiculous. I had just scraped up four

shillings for this little outing; and it cost me one-and-fourpence to

get here. Well, Dubedat asked me to lend him half-a-crown to tip

the chambermaid of the room his wife left her wraps in, and for the

cloakroom. He said he only wanted it for five minutes, as she had his

purse. So of course I lent it to him. And he's forgotten to pay me. I've

just tuppence to get back with.

RIDGEON. Oh, never mind that--

BLENKINSOP [stopping him resolutely] No: I know what youre going to say;

but I wont take it. Ive never borrowed a penny; and I never will. Ive

nothing left but my friends; and I wont sell them. If none of you were

to be able to meet me without being afraid that my civility was leading

up to the loan of five shillings, there would be an end of everything

for me. I'll take your old clothes, Colly, sooner than disgrace you by

talking to you in the street in my own; but I wont borrow money. I'll

train it as far as the twopence will take me; and I'll tramp the rest.

WALPOLE. Youll do the whole distance in my motor. [They are all greatly

relieved; and Walpole hastens to get away from the painful subject by

adding] Did he get anything out of you, Mr Schutzmacher?

SCHUTZMACHER [shakes his head in a most expressive negative].

WALPOLE. You didnt appreciate his drawing, I think.

SCHUTZMACHER. Oh yes I did. I should have liked very much to have kept

the sketch and got it autographed.

B. B. But why didnt you?

SCHUTZMACHER. Well, the fact is, when I joined Dubedat after his

conversation with Mr Walpole, he said the Jews were the only people

who knew anything about art, and that though he had to put up with

your Philistine twaddle, as he called it, it was what I said about the

drawings that really pleased him. He also said that his wife was greatly

struck with my knowledge, and that she always admired Jews. Then he

asked me to advance him 50 pounds on the security of the drawings.

B. B. { [All } No, no. Positively! Seriously!

WALPOLE { exclaiming } What! Another fifty!

BLENKINSOP { together] } Think of that!

SIR PATRICK { } [grunts]!

SCHUTZMACHER. Of course I couldnt lend money to a stranger like that.

B. B. I envy you the power to say No, Mr Schutzmacher. Of course, I

knew I oughtnt to lend money to a young fellow in that way; but I simply

hadnt the nerve to refuse. I couldnt very well, you know, could I?

SCHUTZMACHER. I dont understand that. I felt that I couldnt very well

lend it.

WALPOLE. What did he say?

SCHUTZMACHER. Well, he made a very uncalled-for remark about a Jew not

understanding the feelings of a gentleman. I must say you Gentiles are

very hard to please. You say we are no gentlemen when we lend money; and

when we refuse to lend it you say just the same. I didnt mean to behave

badly. As I told him, I might have lent it to him if he had been a Jew

himself.

SIR PATRICK [with a grunt] And what did he say to that?

SCHUTZMACHER. Oh, he began trying to persuade me that he was one of the

chosen people--that his artistic faculty shewed it, and that his name

was as foreign as my own. He said he didnt really want 50 pounds; that

he was only joking; that all he wanted was a couple of sovereigns.

B. B. No, no, Mr Schutzmacher. You invented that last touch. Seriously,

now?

SCHUTZMACHER. No. You cant improve on Nature in telling stories about

gentlemen like Mr Dubedat.

BLENKINSOP. You certainly do stand by one another, you chosen people, Mr

Schutzmacher.

SCHUTZMACHER. Not at all. Personally, I like Englishmen better than

Jews, and always associate with them. Thats only natural, because, as

I am a Jew, theres nothing interesting in a Jew to me, whereas there is

always something interesting and foreign in an Englishman. But in money

matters it's quite different. You see, when an Englishman borrows, all

he knows or cares is that he wants money; and he'll sign anything to get

it, without in the least understanding it, or intending to carry out the

agreement if it turns out badly for him. In fact, he thinks you a cad

if you ask him to carry it out under such circumstances. Just like the

Merchant of Venice, you know. But if a Jew makes an agreement, he means

to keep it and expects you to keep it. If he wants money for a time, he

borrows it and knows he must pay it at the end of the time. If he knows

he cant pay, he begs it as a gift.

RIDGEON. Come, Loony! do you mean to say that Jews are never rogues and

thieves?

SCHUTZMACHER. Oh, not at all. But I was not talking of criminals. I was

comparing honest Englishmen with honest Jews.

One of the hotel maids, a pretty, fair-haired woman of about 25, comes

from the hotel, rather furtively. She accosts Ridgeon.

THE MAID. I beg your pardon, sir--

RIDGEON. Eh?

THE MAID. I beg pardon, sir. It's not about the hotel. I'm not allowed

to be on the terrace; and I should be discharged if I were seen speaking

to you, unless you were kind enough to say you called me to ask whether

the motor has come back from the station yet.

WALPOLE. Has it?

THE MAID. Yes, sir.

RIDGEON. Well, what do you want?

THE MAID. Would you mind, sir, giving me the address of the gentleman

that was with you at dinner?

RIDGEON [sharply] Yes, of course I should mind very much. You have no

right to ask.

THE MAID. Yes, sir, I know it looks like that. But what am I to do?

SIR PATRICK. Whats the matter with you?

THE MAID. Nothing, sir. I want the address: thats all.

B. B. You mean the young gentleman?

THE MAID. Yes, sir: that went to catch the train with the woman he

brought with him.

RIDGEON. The woman! Do you mean the lady who dined here? the gentleman's

wife?

THE MAID. Dont believe them, sir. She cant be his wife. I'm his wife.

B. B. {[in amazed remonstrance] My good girl!

RIDGEON {You his wife!

WALPOLE {What! whats that? Oh, this is getting perfectly

fascinating, Ridgeon.

THE MAID. I could run upstairs and get you my marriage lines in a

minute, sir, if you doubt my word. He's Mr Louis Dubedat, isnt he?

RIDGEON. Yes.

THE MAID. Well, sir, you may believe me or not; but I'm the lawful Mrs

Dubedat.

SIR PATRICK. And why arnt you living with your husband?

THE MAID. We couldnt afford it, sir. I had thirty pounds saved; and we

spent it all on our honeymoon in three weeks, and a lot more that he

borrowed. Then I had to go back into service, and he went to London

to get work at his drawing; and he never wrote me a line or sent me an

address. I never saw nor heard of him again until I caught sight of him

from the window going off in the motor with that woman.

SIR PATRICK. Well, thats two wives to start with.

B. B. Now upon my soul I dont want to be uncharitable; but really I'm

beginning to suspect that our young friend is rather careless.

SIR PATRICK. Beginning to think! How long will it take you, man, to find

out that he's a damned young blackguard?

BLENKINSOP. Oh, thats severe, Sir Patrick, very severe. Of course it's

bigamy; but still he's very young; and she's very pretty. Mr Walpole:

may I spunge on you for another of those nice cigarets of yours? [He

changes his seat for the one next Walpole].

WALPOLE. Certainly. [He feels in his pockets]. Oh bother! Where--?

[Suddenly remembering] I say: I recollect now: I passed my cigaret case

to Dubedat and he didnt return it. It was a gold one.

THE MAID. He didnt mean any harm: he never thinks about things like

that, sir. I'll get it back for you, sir, if youll tell me where to find

him.

RIDGEON. What am I to do? Shall I give her the address or not?