按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
my gizzard。 It's not as if there wasn't plenty o' pigeons for 'im to
pluck in 'is own Gawd…forsaken country。 Reg…lar jay； that's what I
calls 'im。 I could tell yer something
＇He has opened the door； and suddenly sees that FERRAND himself
is standing there。 Sticking out his lower lip； TIMSON gives a
roll of his jaw and lurches forth into the street。 Owing to a
slight miscalculation； his face and raised arms are plainly
visible through the window； as he fortifies himself from his
battle against the cold。 FERRAND； having closed the door；
stands with his thumb acting as pointer towards this spectacle。
He is now remarkably dressed in an artist's squashy green hat； a
frock coat too small for him； a bright blue tie of knitted silk；
the grey trousers that were torn； well…worn brown boots； and a
tan waistcoat。
WELLWYN。 What luck to…day？
FERRAND。 ＇With a shrug。＇ Again I have beaten all London； Monsieur…
…not one bite。 ＇Contemplating himself。＇ I think perhaps； that； for
the bourgeoisie； there is a little too much colour in my costume。
WELLWYN。 ＇Contemplating him。＇ Let's seeI believe I've an old top
hat somewhere。
FERRAND。 Ah！ Monsieur； 'merci'； but that I could not。 It is
scarcely in my character。
WELLWYN。 True！
FERRAND。 I have been to merchants of wine； of tabac； to hotels； to
Leicester Square。 I have been to a Society for spreading Christian
knowledgeI thought there I would have a chance perhaps as
interpreter。 'Toujours meme chose'； we regret； we have no situation
for yousame thing everywhere。 It seems there is nothing doing in
this town。
WELLWYN。 I've noticed； there never is。
FERRAND。 I was thinking； Monsieur； that in aviation there might be a
career for mebut it seems one must be trained。
WELLWYN。 Afraid so； Ferrand。
FERRAND。 ＇Approaching the picture。＇ Ah！ You are always working at
this。 You will have something of very good there； Monsieur。 You
wish to fix the type of wild savage existing ever amongst our high
civilisation。 'C'est tres chic ca'！ ＇WELLWYN manifests the quiet
delight of an English artist actually understood。＇ In the figures
of these good citizens； to whom she offers her flower； you would
give the idea of all the cage doors open to catch and make tame the
wild bird； that will surely die within。 'Tres gentil'！ Believe me；
Monsieur； you have there the greatest comedy of life！ How anxious
are the tame birds to do the wild birds good。 ＇His voice changes。＇
For the wild birds it is not funny。 There is in some human souls；
Monsieur； what cannot be made tame。
WELLWYN。 I believe you； Ferrand。
＇The face of a young man appears at the window； unseen。
Suddenly ANN opens the door leading to the house。
ANN。 DaddyI want you。
WELLWYN。 ＇To FERRAND。＇ Excuse me a minute！
＇He goes to his daughter； and they pass out。 FERRAND remains
at the picture。 MRS。 MEGAN dressed in some of ANN's discarded
garments； has come out of the model's room。 She steals up
behind FERRAND like a cat； reaches an arm up； and curls it
round his mouth。 He turns； and tries to seize her； she
disingenuously slips away。 He follows。 The chase circles the
tea table。 He catches her； lifts her up； swings round with
her； so that her feet fly out； kisses her bent…back face； and
sets her down。 She stands there smiling。 The face at the
window darkens。
FERRAND。 La Valse！
＇He takes her with both hands by the waist； she puts her hands
against his shoulders to push him ofand suddenly they are
whirling。 As they whirl； they bob together once or twice； and
kiss。 Then； with a warning motion towards the door； she
wrenches herself free； and stops beside the picture； trying
desperately to appear demure。 WELLWYN and ANN have entered。
The face has vanished。
FERRAND。 ＇Pointing to the picture。＇ One does not comprehend all
this； Monsieur； without well studying。 I was in train to interpret
for Ma'moiselle the chiaroscuro。
WELLWYN。 ＇With a queer look。＇ Don't take it too seriously；
Ferrand。
FERRAND。 It is a masterpiece。
WELLWYN。 My daughter's just spoken to a friend； Professor Calway。
He'd like to meet you。 Could you come back a little later？
FERRAND。 Certainly； Ma'moiselle。 That will be an opening for me； I
trust。 ＇He goes to the street door。＇
ANN。 ＇Paying no attention to him。＇ Mrs。 Megan； will you too come
back in half an hour？
FERRAND。 'Tres bien； Ma'moiselle'！ I will see that she does。 We
will take a little promenade together。 That will do us good。
＇He motions towards the door； MRS。 MEGAN； all eyes； follows him
out。
ANN。 Oh！ Daddy； they are rotters。 Couldn't you see they were
having the most high jinks？
WELLWYN。 ＇At his picture。＇ I seemed to have noticed something。
ANN。 ＇Preparing for tea。＇ They were kissing。
WELLWYN。 Tt！ Tt！
ANN。 They're hopeless； all threeespecially her。 Wish I hadn't
given her my clothes now。
WELLWYN。 ＇Absorbed。＇ Something of wild…savage。
ANN。 Thank goodness it's the Vicar's business to see that married
people live together in his parish。
WELLWYN。 Oh！ ＇Dubiously。＇ The Megans are Roman Catholic…Atheists；
Ann。
ANN。 ＇With heat。＇ Then they're all the more bound。 ＇WELLWYN gives
a sudden and alarmed whistle。＇
ANN。 What's the matter？
WELLWYN。 Didn't you say you spoke to Sir Thomas； too。 Suppose he
comes in while the Professor's here。 They're cat and dog。
ANN。 ＇Blankly。＇ Oh！ ＇As WELLWYN strikes a match。＇ The samovar is
lighted。 ＇Taking up the nearly empty decanter of rum and going to
the cupboard。＇ It's all right。 He won't。
WELLWYN。 We'll hope not。
＇He turns back to his picture。＇
ANN。 ＇At the cupboard。＇ Daddy！
WELLWYN。 Hi！
ANN。 There were three bottles。
WELLWYN。 Oh！
ANN。 Well！ Now there aren't any。
WELLWYN。 ＇Abstracted。＇ That'll be Timson。
ANN。 ＇With real horror。＇ But it's awful！
WELLWYN。 It is； my dear。
ANN。 In seven days。 To say nothing of the stealing。
WELLWYN。 ＇Vexed。＇ I blame myself…very much。 Ought to have kept it
locked up。
ANN。 You ought to keep him locked up！
＇There is heard a mild but authoritative knock。＇
WELLWYN。 Here's the Vicar！
ANN。 What are you going to do about the rum？
WELLWYN。 ＇Opening the door to CANON BERTLEY。＇ Come in； Vicar！
Happy New Year！
BERTLEY。 Same to you！ Ah！ Ann！ I've got into touch with her
young husbandhe's coming round。
ANN。 ＇Still a little out of her plate。＇ Thank Go…Moses！
BERTLEY。 ＇Faintly surprised。＇ From what I hear he's not really a
bad youth。 Afraid he bets on horses。 The great thing； WELLWYN；
with those poor fellows is to put your finger on the weak spot。
ANN。 ＇To herself…gloomily。＇ That's not difficult。 What would you
do； Canon Bertley； with a man who's been drinking father's rum？
BERTLEY。 Remove the temptation； of course。
WELLWYN。 He's done that。
BERTLEY。 Ah！ Then ＇WELLWYN and ANN hang on his words＇ then I
shoulder
ANN。 ＇Abruptly。＇ Remove him。
BERTLEY。 Before I say that； Ann； I