The Red House Mystery and Other Novels. A. A. Milne

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The Red House Mystery and Other Novels - A. A. Milne

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FARRINGDON. Pamela, dear, do you know Mr. Wentworth?

      PAMELA (shaking hands). How do you do?

      LADY FARRINGDON (to WENTWORTH). Miss Carey--Gerald's Pamela.

      PAMELA. I've heard so much about you, Mr. Wentworth.

      WENTWORTH. And I've heard so much about you, Miss Carey.

      PAMELA. That's nice. Then we can start straight off as friends.

      LETTY. I suppose you know Tommy did the eighth in one?

      PAMELA. Rather. It's splendid!

      LETTY. _Do_ say you haven't told Bob.

      GERALD. Why shouldn't Bob know?

      PAMELA. No, I haven't told him, Letty.

      LETTY. Good, then Tommy can tell him.

      TOMMY. They do pull my leg, don't they, Miss Farringdon?

      [Enter BOB from the outer hall in a blue flannel suit. He has spoilt any chance he had of being considered handsome by a sullen expression now habitual. Two years older than Gerald, he is not so tall, but bigger, and altogether less graceful. He has got in the way of talking in rather a surly voice, as if he suspected that any interest taken in him was merely a polite one.]

      GERALD. Hullo, Bob; good man.

      BOB. Hullo. (He goes up to LADY FARRINGDON and kisses her.) How are you, mother?

      LADY FARRINGDON. It's so nice that you could get away, dear.

      BOB. How are you, father? All right?

      SIR JAMES. Ah, Bob! Come down to see your brother play for the county?

      PAMELA (quickly). He's come down to see _me_, haven't you, Bob?

      BOB. Hullo, Wentworth. Hullo, Letty. I say, I can't shake hands with you all. (He smacks TOMMY on the back and goes over to Miss FARRINGDON.) How are you, dear?

      MISS FARRINGDON. Very glad to see my elder great-nephew. I was getting tired of Gerald.

      LADY FARRINGDON (protesting). Aunt Harriet, dear.

      GERALD (smiling). It's all right, mother. We quite understand each other.

      MISS FARRINGDON. I quite understand Gerald.

      BOB. I say, aren't we going to have any tea?

      LADY FARRINGDON. It's early yet, dear. Gerald, you'd like to have it outside, wouldn't you?

      GERALD. Oh, rather. What do you say, Wentworth?

      WENTWORTH. I never want to be indoors in the country if I can help it.

      SIR JAMES. Quite right, Wentworth--quite right. Gerald, you'll just have time to take Wentworth round the stables before tea.

      GERALD. You'll have to see them officially after church to-morrow. I don't know if you'd care about a private view now.

      SIR JAMES. He must see your new mare. I should like to have his opinion of her.

      WENTWORTH (getting up). I never know what to say to a mare, but I should like to come.

      LETTY. She answers to "Hi!" or to any loud cry.

      PAMELA. I'm sure you'll be all right, Mr. Wentworth.

      GERALD. There's a way of putting one's head on one side and saying, "Ah!" Anybody who's seen Tommy at the Royal Academy will know exactly what I mean.

      (GERALD, PAMELA and WENTWORTH move towards the door.)

      WENTWORTH (to PAMELA). Ought I to have a straw in my mouth?

      GERALD. It's all right, we'll go and see the spaniels first.

      WENTWORTH (cheerfully). Oh, I'm all right with dogs.

      LETTY (to TOMMY). Come on, Tommy. [They go out behind the others.]

      LADY FARRINGDON. Would you like to have tea outside, Aunt Harriet?

      MISS FARRINGDON. I'm not too old for that, Mary. Bob will bring me out. I want to have a word with him while I can. Everybody talks at once in this house.

      SIR JAMES (picking up his hat). How's the City--hey?

      BOB. Just as usual.

      SIR JAMES. Coming round to the stables?

      ROB. Later on, perhaps.

      LADY FARRINGDON. Bob is bringing Aunt Harriet along, dear.

      SIR JAMES. Ah, yes. [They go out together.]

      MISS FARRINGDON. Smoke, Bob, and tell me how horrible the City is.

      BOB (lighting a pipe and sitting down). It's damnable, Aunt Harriet.

      MISS FARRINGDON. More damnable than usual?

      BOB. Yes.

      MISS FARRINGDON. Any particular reason why?

      BOB (after a long pause). No.

      (MISS FARRINGDON nods to herself and then speaks very casually.)

      MISS FARRINGDON. My bankers sent in my pass-book the other day. I seem to have a deal of money lying idle, as they call it. If anybody wanted it, I should really be in no hurry to get it back again.

      BOB (awkwardly). Thanks very much. It isn't that. (After a pause) Not altogether.

      MISS FARRINGDON. It was a great pity you ever went into the City, Bob.

      BOB (fiercely). I could have told anybody that.

      MISS FARRINGDON (after waiting for him to say something more). Well, suppose we go into the garden with the others. (She begins to get up and he goes to help her,) There's nothing you want to tell me, Bob?

      BOB (looking away). What would there be?

      MISS FARRINGDON. I'm a wise old woman, they say, and I don't talk.

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