FERRAND.Certainly, Monsieur.We have no serious intentions.
BERTLEY.All the more shame to you, then!
FERRAND.Monsieur, I see perfectly your point of view.It is very natural.[He bows and is silent.]
MRS.MEGAN.I don't want'im hurt'cos o' me.Megan'll get his mates to belt him--bein' foreign like he is.
BERTLEY.Yes, never mind that.It's you I'm thinking of.
MRS.MEGAN.I'd sooner they'd hit me.
WELLWYN.[Suddenly.] Well said, my child!
MRS.MEGAN.'Twasn't his fault.
FERRAND.[Without irony--to WELLWYN.] I cannot accept that Monsieur.The blame--it is all mine.
ANN.[Entering suddenly from the house.] Daddy, they're having an awful--!
[The voices of PROFESSOR CALWAY and SIR THOMAS HOXTON are distinctly heard.]
CALWAY.The question is a much wider one, Sir Thomas.
HOXTON.As wide as you like, you'll never--[WELLWYN pushes ANN back into the house and closes the door behind her.The voices are still faintly heard arguing on the threshold.]
BERTLEY.Let me go in here a minute, Wellyn.I must finish speaking to her.[He motions MRS.MEGAN towards the model's room.]
We can't leave the matter thus.]
FERRAND.[Suavely.] Do you desire my company, Monsieur?
[BERTLEY, with a prohibitive gesture of his hand, shepherds the reluctant MRS.MEGAN into the model's room.]
WELLWYN.[Sorrowfully.] You shouldn't have done this, Ferrand.It wasn't the square thing.
FERRAND.[With dignity.] Monsieur, I feel that I am in the wrong.
It was stronger than me.
[As he speaks, SIR THOMAS HOXTON and PROFESSOR CALWAY enter from the house.In the dim light, and the full cry of argument, they do not notice the figures at the fire.SIRTHOMAS HOXTON leads towards the street door.]
HOXTON.No, Sir, I repeat, if the country once commits itself to your views of reform, it's as good as doomed.
CALWAY.I seem to have heard that before, Sir Thomas.And let me say at once that your hitty-missy cart-load of bricks regime--HOXTON.Is a deuced sight better, sir, than your grand-motherly methods.What the old fellow wants is a shock! With all this socialistic molly-coddling, you're losing sight of the individual.
CALWAY.[Swiftly.] You, sir, with your "devil take the hindmost,"have never even seen him.
[SIR THOMAS HOXTON, throwing back a gesture of disgust, steps out into the night, and falls heavily PROFESSOR CALWAY, hastening to his rescue, falls more heavily still.]
[TIMSON, momentarily roused from slumber on the doorstep, sits up.]
HOXTON.[Struggling to his knees.] Damnation!
CALWAY.[Sitting.] How simultaneous!
[WELLWYN and FERRAND approach hastily.]
FERRAND.[Pointing to TIMSON.] Monsieur, it was true, it seems.
They had lost sight of the individual.
[A Policeman has appeared under the street lamp.He picks up HOXTON'S hat.]
CONSTABLE.Anything wrong, sir?
HOXTON.[Recovering his feet.] Wrong? Great Scott! Constable!
Why do you let things lie about in the street like this? Look here, Wellyn!
[They all scrutinize TIMSON.]
WELLWYN.It's only the old fellow whose reform you were discussing.
HOXTON.How did he come here?
CONSTABLE.Drunk, sir.[Ascertaining TIMSON to be in the street.]
Just off the premises, by good luck.Come along, father.
TIMSON.[Assisted to his feet-drowsily.] Cert'nly, by no means;take my arm.
[They move from the doorway.HOXTON and CALWAY re-enter, and go towards the fire.]
ANN.[Entering from the house.] What's happened?
CALWAY.Might we have a brush?
HOXTON.[Testily.] Let it dry!
[He moves to the fire and stands before it.PROFESSOR CALWAYfollowing stands a little behind him.ANN returning begins to brush the PROFESSOR's sleeve.]
WELLWYN.[Turning from the door, where he has stood looking after the receding TIMSON.] Poor old Timson!
FERRAND.[Softly.] Must be philosopher, Monsieur! They will but run him in a little.
[From the model's room MRS.MEGAN has come out, shepherded by CANON BERTLEY.
BERTLEY.Let's see, your Christian name is--.
MRS.MEGAN.Guinevere.
BERTLEY.Oh! Ah! Ah! Ann, take Gui - take our little friend into the study a minute: I am going to put her into service.We shall make a new woman of her, yet.
ANN.[Handing CANON BERTLEY the brush, and turning to MRS.MEGAN.]
Come on!
[She leads into the house, and MRS.MEGAN follows Stolidly.]
BERTLEY.[Brushing CALWAY'S back.] Have you fallen?
CALWAY.Yes.
BERTLEY.Dear me! How was that?
HOXTON.That old ruffian drunk on the doorstep.Hope they'll give him a sharp dose! These rag-tags!
[He looks round, and his angry eyes light by chance on FERRAND.
FERRAND.[With his eyes on HOXTON--softly.] Monsieur, something tells me it is time I took the road again.
WELLWYN.[Fumbling out a sovereign.] Take this, then!
FERRAND.[Refusing the coin.] Non, Monsieur.To abuse 'ospitality is not in my character.
BERTLEY.We must not despair of anyone.
HOXTON.Who talked of despairing? Treat him, as I say, and you'll see!
CALWAY.The interest of the State--
HOXTON.The interest of the individual citizen sir--BERTLEY.Come! A little of both, a little of both!
[They resume their brushing.]
FERRAND.You are now debarrassed of us three, Monsieur.I leave you instead--these sirs.[He points.] 'Au revoir, Monsieur'!
[Motioning towards the fire.] 'Appy New Year!
[He slips quietly out.WELLWYN, turning, contemplates the three reformers.They are all now brushing away, scratching each other's backs, and gravely hissing.As he approaches them, they speak with a certain unanimity.
HOXTON.My theory--!
CALWAY.My theory--!
BERTLEY.My theory--!
[They stop surprised.WELLWYN makes a gesture of discomfort, as they speak again with still more unanimity.
HOXTON.My--! CALWAY.My--! BERTLEY.My--!
[They stop in greater surprise.The stage is blotted dark.]
Curtain.
