wish to be severe with you; but there is something peculiarly repugnant to my feelings in the calling of a rent collector.
LICKCHEESE It’s no worse than many another. I have my children looking to me.
COKANE True: I admit it. So has our friend Sartorius. His affection for his daughter is a redeeming point, a redeeming point, certainly.
LICKCHEESE She’s a lucky daughter, sir. Many another daughter has been turned out upon the streets to gratify his affection for her. Thats what business is, sir, you see. Come, sir: I think your friend will say a word for me now he knows I’m not in fault.
TRENCH [rising angrily] I will not. It’s a damnable business from beginning to end; and you deserve no better luck for helping in it. Ive seen it all among the outpatients at the hospital; and it used to make my blood boil to think that such things couldnt be prevented.
LICKCHEESE [his suppressed spleen breaking out] Oh indeed, sir. But I suppose youll take your share when you marry Miss Blanche, all the same. [Furiously] Which of us is the worse, I should like to know: Me that wrings the money out to keep a home over my children, or you that spend it and try to shove the blame on to me?
COKANE A most improper observation to address to a gentleman, Mr Lickcheese! A most revolutionary sentiment!
LICKCHEESE Perhaps so. But then Robbins’s Row aint a school for manners. You collect a week or two there youre welcome to my place if I cant keep it for myself and youll hear a little plain speaking, so you will.
COKANE [with dignity] Do you know to whom you are speaking, my good man?
LICKCHEESE [recklessly] I know well enough who I’m speaking to. What do I care for you, or a thousand such? I’m poor: Thats enough to make a rascal of me. No consideration for me, nothing to be got by saying a word for me! [Suddenly cringing to Trench] Just a word, sir. It would cost you nothing. [Sarforius appears at the door, unobserved.] Have some feeling for the poor.
TRENCH I’m afraid you have shewn very little, by your own confession.
LICKCHEESE [breaking out again] More than your precious father-in-law, anyhow. I — [Sartorius’s voice, striking in with deadly coldness, paralyzes him.]
SARTORIUS You will come here tomorrow, not later than ten, Mr Lickcheese, to conclude our business. I shall trouble you no further to-day. {Lickcheese, cowed, goes out amid dead silence. Sartorius continues, after an awkward pause] He is one of my agents, or rather was; for I have unfortunately had to dismiss him for repeatedly disregarding my instructions. [Trench says nothing. Sartorius throws off his embarrassment, and assumes a jocose, rallying air, unbecoming to him under any circumstances, and just now almost unbearably jarring.] Blanche will be down presently, Harry [Trench recoils] I suppose I must call you Harry now. What do you say to a stroll through the garden, Mr Cokane? We are celebrated here for our flowers.
COKANE Charmed, my dear sir, charmed. Life here is an idyll a perfect idyll. We were just dwelling on it.
SARTORIUS [slyly] Harry can follow with Blanche. She will be down directly.
TRENCH [hastily] No. I cant face her just now.
SARTORIUS [rallying him] Indeed! Ha, ha! [The laugh, the first they have heard from him, sets Trench’s teeth on edge. Cokane is taken aback, but instantly recovers himself.]
COKANE Ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho!
TRENCH But you dont understand.
SARTORIUS Oh, I think we do, I think we do. Eh, Mr Cokane? Ha! ha!
COKANE I should think we do. Ha! ha! ha!
[They go out together, laughing at him. He collapses into a chair, shuddering in every nerve. Blanche appears at the door. Her face lights up when she sees that he is alone. She trips noiselessly to the back of his chair and clasps her hands over his eyes. With a convulsive start and exclamation he springs up and breaks away from her.]
BLANCHE [astonished] Harry!
TRENCH [with distracted politeness] I beg your pardon. I was thinking wont you sit down?
BLANCHE [looking suspiciously at him] Is anything the matter? [She sits down slowly near the writing table. He takes Cokane’s chair.]
TRENCH No. Oh no.
BLANCHE Papa has not been disagreeable, I hope.
TRENCH No: I have hardly spoken to him since I was with you. [He rises; takes up his chair; and plants it beside hers. This pleases her better. She looks at him with her most winning smile. A sort of sob breaks from him; and he catches her hands and kisses them passionately. Then, looking into her eyes with intense earnestness, he says:] Blanche: are you fond of money?
BLANCHE [gaily] Very. Are you going to give me any?
TRENCH [wincing] Dont make a joke of it: I’m serious. Do you know that we shall be very poor?
BLANCHE Is that what made you look as if you had neuralgia?
TRENCH [pleadingly] My dear: it’s no laughing matter. Do you know that I have a bare seven hundred a year to live on?
BLANCHE How dreadful!
TRENCH Blanche: It’s very serious indeed: I assure you it is.
BLANCHE It would keep me rather short in my housekeeping, dearest boy, if I had nothing of my own. But papa has promised me that I shall be richer than ever when we are married.
TRENCH We must do the best we can with seven hundred. I think we ought to be self supporting.
BLANCHE Thats just what I mean to be, Harry. If I were to eat up half your £700, I should be making you twice as poor; but I’m going to make you twice as rich instead. [He shakes his head.] Has papa made any difficulty?
TRENCH [rising with a sigh and taking his chair back to its former place] No, none at all. [He sits down dejectedly. When Blanche speaks again her face and voice betray the beginning of a struggle with her temper.]
BLANCHE Harry : are you too proud to take money from my father?
TRENCH Yes, Blanche: I am too proud.
BLANCHE [after a pause] That is not nice to me, Harry.
TRENCH You must bear with me, Blanche. I — , I cant explain. After all, it’s very natural.
BLANCHE Has it occurred to you that I may be proud, too?
TRENCH Oh, thats nonsense. No one will accuse you of marrying for money.
BLANCHE No one would think the worse of me if I did, or of you either. [She rises and begins to walk restlessly about.] We really cannot live on seven hundred a year, Harry; and I dont think it quite fair of you to ask me merely because youre afraid of people talking.
TRENCH It’s not that alone, Blanche.
BLANCHE What else is it, then?
TRENCH Nothing. I —
BLANCHE [getting behind him, and speaking with forced playfulness as she bends over him, her hands on his shoulders] Of course it’s nothing. Now
