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? [Wellwyn takes 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?