It is the first of April--a white spring day of gleams and driving showers.The street door of WELLWYN's studio stands wide open, and, past it, in the street, the wind is whirling bits of straw and paper bags.Through the door can be seen the butt end of a stationary furniture van with its flap let down.To this van three humble-men in shirt sleeves and aprons, are carrying out the contents of the studio.The hissing samovar, the tea-pot, the sugar, and the nearly empty decanter of rum stand on the low round table in the fast-being-gutted room.WELLWYN in his ulster and soft hat, is squatting on the little stool in front of the blazing fire, staring into it, and smoking a hand-made cigarette.He has a moulting air.
Behind him the humble-men pass, embracing busts and other articles of vertu.
CHIEF H'MAN.[Stopping, and standing in the attitude of expectation.] We've about pinched this little lot, sir.Shall we take the--reservoir?
[He indicates the samovar.]
WELLWYN.Ah! [Abstractedly feeling in his pockets, and finding coins.] Thanks--thanks--heavy work, I'm afraid.
H'MAN.[Receiving the coins--a little surprised and a good deal pleased.] Thank'ee, sir.Much obliged, I'm sure.We'll 'ave to come back for this.[He gives the dais a vigorous push with his foot.] Not a fixture, as I understand.Perhaps you'd like us to leave these 'ere for a bit.[He indicates the tea things.]
WELLWYN.Ah! do.
[The humble-men go out.There is the sound of horses being started, and the butt end of the van disappears.WELLWYN stays on his stool, smoking and brooding over the fare.The open doorway is darkened by a figure.CANON BERTLEY is standing there.
BERTLEY.WELLWYN! [WELLWYN turns and rises.] It's ages since Isaw you.No idea you were moving.This is very dreadful.
WELLWYN.Yes, Ann found this--too exposed.That tall house in Flight Street--we're going there.Seventh floor.
BERTLEY.Lift?
[WELLWYN shakes his head.]
BERTLEY.Dear me! No lift? Fine view, no doubt.[WELLWYN nods.]
You'll be greatly missed.
WELLWYN.So Ann thinks.Vicar, what's become of that little flower-seller I was painting at Christmas? You took her into service.
BERTLEY.Not we--exactly! Some dear friends of ours.Painful subject!
WELLWYN.Oh!
BERTLEY.Yes.She got the footman into trouble.
WELLWYN.Did she, now?
BERTLEY.Disappointing.I consulted with CALWAY, and he advised me to try a certain institution.We got her safely in--excellent place; but, d'you know, she broke out three weeks ago.And since--I've heard [he holds his hands up] hopeless, I'm afraid--quite!
WELLWYN.I thought I saw her last night.You can't tell me her address, I suppose?
BERTLEY.[Shaking his head.] The husband too has quite passed out of my ken.He betted on horses, you remember.I'm sometimes tempted to believe there's nothing for some of these poor folk but to pray for death.
[ANN has entered from the house.Her hair hangs from under a knitted cap.She wears a white wool jersey, and a loose silk scarf.]
BERTLEY.Ah! Ann.I was telling your father of that poor little Mrs.Megan.
ANN.Is she dead?
BERTLEY.Worse I fear.By the way--what became of her accomplice?
ANN.We haven't seen him since.[She looks searchingly at WELLWYN.] At least--have you--Daddy?
WELLWYN.[Rather hurt.] No, my dear; I have not.
BERTLEY.And the--old gentleman who drank the rum?
ANN.He got fourteen days.It was the fifth time.
BERTLEY.Dear me!
ANN.When he came out he got more drunk than ever.Rather a score for Professor Calway, wasn't it?
BERTLEY.I remember.He and Sir Thomas took a kindly interest in the old fellow.
ANN.Yes, they fell over him.The Professor got him into an Institution.
BERTLEY.Indeed!
ANN.He was perfectly sober all the time he was there.
WELLWYN.My dear, they only allow them milk.
ANN.Well, anyway, he was reformed.
WELLWYN.Ye-yes!
ANN.[Terribly.] Daddy! You've been seeing him!
WELLWYN.[With dignity.] My dear, I have not.
ANN.How do you know, then?
WELLWYN.Came across Sir Thomas on the Embankment yesterday; told me old Timso--had been had up again for sitting down in front of a brewer's dray.
ANN.Why?
WELLWYN.Well, you see, as soon as he came out of the what d'you call 'em, he got drunk for a week, and it left him in low spirits.
BERTLEY.Do you mean he deliberately sat down, with the intention--of--er?
WELLWYN.Said he was tired of life, but they didn't believe him.
ANN.Rather a score for Sir Thomas! I suppose he'd told the Professor? What did he say?
WELLWYN.Well, the Professor said [with a quick glance at BERTLEY]
he felt there was nothing for some of these poor devils but a lethal chamber.
BERTLEY.[Shocked.] Did he really!
[He has not yet caught WELLWYN' s glance.]
WELLWYN.And Sir Thomas agreed.Historic occasion.And you, Vicar H'm!
[BERTLEY winces.]
ANN.[To herself.] Well, there isn't.
BERTLEY.And yet! Some good in the old fellow, no doubt, if one could put one's finger on it.[Preparing to go.] You'll let us know, then, when you're settled.What was the address? [WELLWYNtakes out and hands him a card.] Ah! yes.Good-bye, Ann.
Good-bye, Wellyn.[The wind blows his hat along the street.] What a wind! [He goes, pursuing.]
ANN.[Who has eyed the card askance.] Daddy, have you told those other two where we're going?
WELLWYN.Which other two, my dear?
ANN.The Professor and Sir Thomas.
WELLWYN.Well, Ann, naturally I--
ANN.[Jumping on to the dais with disgust.] Oh, dear! When I'm trying to get you away from all this atmosphere.I don't so much mind the Vicar knowing, because he's got a weak heart--[She jumps off again.]
WELLWYN.[To himself.] Seventh floor! I felt there was something.
ANN.[Preparing to go.] I'm going round now.But you must stay here till the van comes back.And don't forget you tipped the men after the first load.
WELLWYN.Oh! Yes, yes.[Uneasily.] Good sorts they look, those fellows!
ANN.[Scrutinising him.] What have you done?
WELLWYN.Nothing, my dear, really--!
ANN.What?
WELLWYN.I--I rather think I may have tipped them twice.
