Hornblower. [Finishing] Listen! [He turns round towards the sofa] Hallo! Where are ye?
Chloe. [At the window] It’s so hot.
Hornblower. Here’s what I’ve said:
“Madam,—You can tell me nothing of my daughter-in-law which can affect the happiness of my family. I regard your note as an impertinence, and I shall not be with you at eleven o’clock to-morrow morning.
“Yours truly——”
Chloe. [With a suffering movement of her head] Oh!—Well!—[The gong is touched a second time.]
Hornblower. [Crossing to the door] Lie ye down, and get a sleep. I’ll tell them not to disturb ye; and I hope ye’ll be all right to-morrow. Good-night, Chloe.
Chloe. Good-night. [He goes out.]
[After a feverish turn or two, Chloe returns to the open window and waits there, half screened by the curtains. The door is opened inch by inch, and ANNA’S head peers round. Seeing where Chloe is, she slips in and passes behind the screen, Left. Suddenly Chloe backs in from the window.]
Chloe. [In a low voice] Come in.
[She darts to the door and locks it.]
[Dawker has come
in through the window and stands regarding her
with a half smile.]
Dawker. Well, young woman, what do you want of me?
[In the presence of this man of her own class, there comes a distinct change in Chloe’s voice and manner; a sort of frank commonness, adapted to the man she is dealing with, but she keeps her voice low.]
Chloe. You’re making a mistake, you know.
Dawker. [With a broad grin] No. I’ve got a memory for faces.
Chloe. I say you are.
Dawker. [Turning to go] If that’s all, you needn’t have troubled me to come.
Chloe. No. Don’t go! [With a faint smile] You are playing a game with me. Aren’t you ashamed? What harm have I done you? Do you call this cricket?
Dawker. No, my girl—business.
Chloe. [Bitterly] What have I to do with this quarrel? I couldn’t help their falling out.
Dawker. That’s your misfortune.
Chloe. [Clasping her hands] You’re a cruel fellow if you can spoil a woman’s life who never did you an ounce of harm.
Dawker. So they don’t know about you. That’s all right. Now, look here, I serve my employer. But I’m flesh and blood, too, and I always give as good as I get. I hate this family of yours. There’s no name too bad for ’em to call me this last month, and no looks too black to give me. I tell you frankly, I hate.
Chloe. There’s good in them same as in you.
Dawker. [With a grin] There’s no good
Hornblower but a dead
Hornblower.