Getting Married (2/2) (9/12)

| Hotchkiss | At that, yes. But there was something worse. Judge of my horror when, calling on the coal merchant to make a trifling complaint at finding my grate acting as a battery of quick-firing guns, and being confronted by his vulgar wife, I felt in her presence an extraordinary sensation of unrest, of emotion, of unsatisfied need. I’ll not disgust you with details of the madness and folly that followed that meeting. But it went as far as this: that I actually found myself prowling past the shop at night under a sort of desperate necessity to be near some place where she had been. A hideous temptation to kiss the doorstep because her foot had pressed it made me realize how mad I was. I tore myself away from London by a supreme effort; but I was on the point of returning like a needle to the lodestone when the outbreak of the war saved me. On the field of battle the infatuation wore off. The Billiter affair made a new man of me: I felt that I had left the follies and puerilities of the old days behind me forever. But half-an-hour ago⁠—when the Bishop sent off that ring⁠—a sudden grip at the base of my heart filled me with a nameless terror⁠—me, the fearless! I recognized its cause when she walked into the room. Cecil: this woman is a harpy, a siren, a mermaid, a vampire. There is only one chance for me: flight, instant precipitate flight. Make my excuses. Forget me. Farewell. He makes for the door and is confronted by Mrs. George entering. Too late: I’m lost. He turns back and throws himself desperately into the chair nearest the study door; that being the furthest away from her. | | Mrs. George | Coming to the hearth and addressing Reginald. Mr. Bridgenorth: will you oblige me by leaving me with this young man. I want to talk to him like a mother, on your business. | | Reginald | Do, ma’am. He needs it badly. Come along, Sykes. He goes into the study. | | Sykes | Looks irresolutely at Hotchkiss.⁠—? | | Hotchkiss | Too late: you can’t save me now, Cecil. Go. | | | Sykes* goes into the study. Mrs. George strolls across to Hotchkiss and contemplates him curiously. | | Hotchkiss | Useless to prolong this agony. Rising. Fatal woman⁠—if woman you are indeed and not a fiend in human form⁠— | | Mrs. George | Is this out of a book? Or is it your usual society small talk? | | Hotchkiss | Recklessly. Jibes are useless: the force that is sweeping me away will not spare you. I must know the worst at once. What was your father? | | Mrs. George | A licensed victualler who married his barmaid. You would call him a publican, most likely. | | Hotchkiss | Then you are a woman totally beneath me. Do you deny it? Do you set up any sort of pretence to be my equal in rank, in age, or in culture? | | Mrs. George | Have you eaten anything that has disagreed with you? | | Hotchkiss | Witheringly. Inferior! | | Mrs. George | Thank you. Anything else? | | Hotchkiss | This. I love you. My intentions are not honorable. She shows no dismay. Scream. Ring the bell. Have me turned out of the house. | | Mrs. George | With sudden depth of feeling. Oh, if you could restore to this wasted exhausted heart one ray of the passion that once welled up at the glance at the touch of a lover! It’s you who would scream then, young man. Do you see this face, once fresh and rosy like your own, now scarred and riven by a hundred burnt-out fires? | | Hotchkiss | Wildly. Slate fires. Thirteen shillings a ton. Fires that shoot out destructive meteors, blinding and burning, sending men into the streets to make fools of themselves. | | Mrs. George | You seem to have got it pretty bad, Sinjon. | | Hotchkiss | Don’t dare call me Sinjon. | | Mrs. George | My name is Zenobia Alexandrina. You may call me Polly for short. | | Hotchkiss | Your name is Ashtoreth⁠—Durga⁠—there is no name yet invented malign enough for you. | | Mrs. George | Sitting down comfortably. Come! Do you really think you’re better suited to that young sauce box than her husband? You enjoyed her company when you were only the friend of the family⁠—when there was the husband there to show off against and to take all the responsibility. Are you sure you’ll enjoy it as much when you are the husband? She isn’t clever, you know. She’s only silly-clever. | | Hotchkiss | Uneasily leaning against the table and holding on to it to control his nervous movements. Need you tell me? fiend that you are! | | Mrs. George | You amused the husband, didn’t you? | | Hotchkiss | He has more real sense of humor than she. He’s better bred. That was not my fault. | | Mrs. George | My husband has a sense of humor too. | | Hotchkiss | The coal merchant?⁠—I mean the slate merchant. | | Mrs. George | Appreciatively. He would just love to hear you talk. He’s been dull lately for want of a change of company and a bit of fresh fun. | | Hotchkiss | Flinging a chair opposite her and sitting down with an overdone attempt at studied insolence. And pray what is your wretched husband’s vulgar conviviality to me? | | Mrs. George | You love me? | | Hotchkiss | I loathe you. | | Mrs. George | It’s the same thing. | | Hotchkiss | Then I’m lost. | | Mrs. George | You may come and see me if you promise to amuse George. | | Hotchkiss | I’ll insult him, sneer at him, wipe my boots on him. | | Mrs. George | No you won’t, dear boy. You’ll be a perfect gentleman. | | Hotchkiss | Beaten; appealing to her mercy. Zenobia⁠— | | Mrs. George | Polly, please. | | Hotchkiss | Mrs. Collins⁠— | | Mrs. George | Sir? | | Hotchkiss | Something stronger than my reason and common sense is holding my hands and tearing me along. I make no attempt to deny that it can drag me where you please and make me do what you like. But at least let me know your soul as you seem to know mine. Do you love this absurd coal merchant? | | Mrs. George | Call him George. | | Hotchkiss | Do you love your Jorjy Porjy? | | Mrs. George | Oh, I don’t know that I love him. He’s my husband, you know. But if I got anxious about George’s health, and I thought it would nourish him, I would fry you with onions for his breakfast and think nothing of it. George and I are good friends. George belongs to me. Other men may come and go; but George goes on forever. | | Hotchkiss | Yes: a husband soon becomes nothing but a habit. Listen: I suppose this detestable fascination you have for me is love. | | Mrs. George | Any sort of feeling for a woman is called love nowadays. | | Hotchkiss | Do you love me? | | Mrs. George | Promptly. My love is not quite so cheap an article as that, my lad. I wouldn’t cross the street to have another look at you⁠—not yet. I’m not starving for love like the robins in winter, as the good ladies you’re accustomed to are. You’ll have to be very clever, and very good, and very real, if you are to interest me. If George takes a fancy to you, and you amuse him enough, I’ll just tolerate you coming in and out occasionally for⁠—well, say a month. If you can make a friend of me in that time so much the better for you. If you can touch my poor dying heart even for an instant, I’ll bless you, and never forget you. You may try⁠—if George takes to you. | | Hotchkiss | I’m to come on liking for the month? | | Mrs. George | On condition that you drop Mrs. Reginald. | | Hotchkiss | But she won’t drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didn’t understand. One day she came to me and told me that the inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me and could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now? What can I do now? | | Mrs. George | Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other men’s wives is growing on you; and that I’m your latest. | | Hotchkiss | What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over for me! | | Mrs. George | Rising. You won’t then? Very well. Sorry we shan’t meet again: I should have liked to see more of you for George’s sake. Goodbye. She moves away from him towards the hearth. | | Hotchkiss | Appealing. Zenobia⁠— | | Mrs. George | I thought I had made a difficult conquest. Now I see you are only one of those poor petticoat-hunting creatures that any woman can pick up. Not for me, thank you. Inexorable, she turns towards the tower to go. | | Hotchkiss | Following. Don’t be an ass, Polly. | | Mrs. George | Stopping. That’s better. | | Hotchkiss | Can’t you see that I mayn’t throw Leo over just because I should be only too glad to. It would be dishonorable. | | Mrs. George | Will you be happy if you marry her? | | Hotchkiss | No, great heaven, no! | | Mrs. George | Will she be happy when she finds you out? | | Hotchkiss | She’s incapable of happiness. But she’s not incapable of the pleasure of holding a man against his will. | | Mrs. George | Right, young man. You will tell her, please, that you love me: before everybody, mind, the very next time you see her. | | Hotchkiss | But⁠— | | Mrs. George | Those are my orders, Sinjon. I can’t have you marry another woman until George is tired of you. | | Hotchkiss | Oh, if I only didn’t selfishly want to obey you! | | | The General comes in from the garden. Mrs. George goes halfway to the garden door to speak to him. Hotchkiss posts himself on the hearth. | | Mrs. George | Where have you been all this time? | | The General | I’m afraid my nerves were a little upset by our conversation. I just went into the garden and had a smoke. I’m all right now. He strolls down to the study door and presently takes a chair at that end of the big table. | | Mrs. George | A smoke! Why, you said she couldn’t bear it. | | The General | Good heavens! I forgot! It’s such a natural thing to do, somehow. | | | Lesbia comes in through the tower. | | Mrs. George | He’s been smoking again. | | Lesbia | So my nose tells me. She goes to the end of the table nearest the hearth, and sits down. | | The General | Lesbia: I’m very sorry. But if I gave it up, I should become so melancholy and irritable that you would be the first to implore me to take to it again. | | Mrs. George | That’s true. Women drive their husbands into all sorts of wickedness to keep them in good humor. Sinjon: be off with you: this doesn’t concern you. | | Lesbia | Please don’t disturb yourself, Sinjon. Boxer’s broken heart has been worn on his sleeve too long for any pretence of privacy. | | The General | You are cruel, Lesbia: devilishly cruel. He sits down, wounded. | | Lesbia | You are vulgar, Boxer. | | Hotchkiss | In what way? I ask, as an expert in vulgarity. | | Lesbia | In two ways. First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self control. | | The General | Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. | | Mrs. George | Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it’s the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She’s got too much self control. | | Lesbia | Widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily. And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self control? | | Mrs. George | Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadn’t been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didn’t control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown up woman’s hair? Did you ever bite a grown up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? | | Lesbia | Shivering with disgust. No. | | Mrs. George | Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair’s pulled. I know what a man is like when he’s bit. I know what they’re both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And that’s how I know more of the world than you. | | Lesbia | The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I’m afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs. George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who can’t sit up straight, sentimental people. | | Mrs. George | Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You don’t learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. | | Lesbia | I’m not a prizefighter, Mrs. Collins. If I can’t get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. | | Mrs. George | Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldn’t be much to live for, would there? | | The General | I’m afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you don’t want. | | Lesbia | Surprised at his wit. That’s not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I don’t want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. She rises and walks towards the study. | | The General | As she is about to pass him. Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. | | Lesbia | Thank you, Boxer. She passes on to the study door. | | Mrs. George | You’re quite done with him, are you? | | Lesbia | As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs. George. She goes into the study. | | | The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs. George* comes round the table to him. | | Mrs. George | Sympathetically. She’s a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. | | The General | Overwhelmed. Oh Mrs. Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. He rises effusively. You have thawed the long-frozen springs. He kisses her hand. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you⁠—He again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion. | | Mrs. George | Looking after him triumphantly. Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? | | Hotchkiss | Unfaithful to me already! | | Mrs. George | I’m not your property, young man: don’t you think it. She goes over to him and faces him. You understand that? He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her. Oh! You dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I’ll jab one of these chairs in your face. She seizes one and holds it in readiness. Now you shall not see me for another month. | | Hotchkiss | Deliberately. I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. | | Mrs. George | You’ll see what he’ll say to you when I tell him what you’ve just done. | | Hotchkiss | What can he say? What dare he say? | | Mrs. George | Suppose he kicks you out of the house? |