THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF Professor ^enneth KacGowan IV\ QUINNEYS' QUINNEYS' A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS BY HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL AUTHOR OF "SEARCHLIGHTS," "JELF'S," ETC. GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK TK 6343 * TO HENRY AINLEY JOSEPH QUINNEY A Dealer in Antiques SAM TOMLIN - - - . - A Dealer in Antiques, Quinney's brother-in-law CYRUS P. HUNSAKER Of Hunsaker, New Mexico DUPONT JORDAN - Millionaire JAMES ...... Quinney's foreman SUSAN ...... Quinney's wife POSY ...... Quinney's daughter MABEL DREDGE - Quinney's typist TIME - - TO-DAY ACT I. The Sanctuary at Quinneys'. ACT II. The Same. ACT III. Dining-room at Sam Tomlin's. ACT IV. Same as Act I. The Action of the Play takes place during twenty-four hours. All applications respecting amateur performances of this play must be made to Mr. Vachell's agents, MESSRS. SAMUEL FRENCH LTD., 26, Southampton Street, Strand, London, W.C. First played at the Haymarket Theatre, April 20th , 1915, with the following cast: JOSEPH QUINNEY - Mr. Henry Ainley JAMES MIGGOTT - - - Mr. Godfrey Tearle SAM TOMLIN Mr.A.G.Poulton CYRUS P. HUNSAKER - Mr. E. J. Caldwell DDPONT JORDAN - - - Mr. Roland Perirvee SUSAN ...... Miss Sydney Fairbrother POSY ...... Miss Marie Hemingway MABEL DREDGE .... Mtss Mary Malone [Produced by Mr. E. Lyall Swete.] QUINNEYS' ACT I SCENE I : The Sanctuary in Quinney's house in Soho Square. TIME : The present : eleven in the morning. THE RISE OF THE CURTAIN DISCLOSES a beautiful room, filled with rare and costly furniture, prints in colour, miniatures and tapestry. Obviously the room belongs to a collector who is a connoisseur. It is Georgian in character, finely proportioned. Windows C. open on to the Square. Between the windows is a magnificent Chinese lacquer cabinet, standing upon a Charles II gilded and carved stand. On the cabinet is a Kang He mirror-black bottle about twenty inches high. An Adam's mantelpiece, with dog grate, in which logs are burning, is L. U.L. is an incised lacquer screen, with a gilded Carolean chair in front of it. Upon the mantelpiece are a set of five blue-and-white jars, Oriental china of the eighteenth century. An old Aubusson carpet is on the parquet floor. The walls are panelled in pale green and white. Upon the panels are prints in colour and mezzo- tints. On the walls are glass lustres arranged for electric light. There is not much furniture, but it is of the finest Chippendale period. Double doors R., open into a hall, whence there is a staircase leading to the ground floor. 2 QUINNEYS' Down R., against the wall, is a glazed Chippendale china cupboard, filled with choice specimens. Upon a panel, R., hangs a small piece of tapestry. In the window, R., hangs a bird-cage, with a canary in it. There is a table, down L., painted by Cipriani, and a desk, R.C., with miniatures and china upon it. The desk is what is called a Carlton, standing upon slender legs and beauti- fully rounded. There is a table with miniatures up R. A tabouret is opposite and near the fireplace. The cur- tains are of white brocade. A speaking-tube is near the mantelpiece. POSY enters R. She wears a white pinafore over a smart tailor-made coat and skirt. She is about nineteen, a pretty, graceful girl, very intelligent and quick-witted. In speech she is inclined to be slangy, but she speaks with an accent which indicates a first-class education. She carries in her hands a small bowl holding polish, and a soft duster. She places the bowl and duster upon the desk, and looks round. From the bosom of her blouse she takes a letter. Then she runs to the door, glances into the hall, shuts the door, and goes to the cabinet, opens the cabinet, slips letter into middle drawer, and then locks cabinet. She extracts the key from the lock, and with a smile pops it into the mirror-black bottle. Having accomplished all this to her entire satisfaction, she laughs softly. Once more she approaches the door and listens. Hearing nothing, she runs to the speaking-tube and whistles down it. POSY. [At the tube.] Who is that ? Miss Quinney is speaking. [Listens and laughs.] Oh! It's you, Jim. Where's Father ? Gone out ? [Listens and laughs.] Yes. Are you alone ? [Listens] So am I. Jim darling, I've slipped a letter into the usual place. Get it when we're at lunch. I've hid the QUINNEYS' 3 key in the Kang He bottle. [Listens.] What ? You silly boy! Must I ? All right. Just one. [She sends a kiss down the tube and laughs]. Now, it's your turn. [She puts her ear to the tube and laughs again.] By-bye. Mumsie will be here in two jiffs. What ? Yes, a big one is growing, but I'll keep it for you. [She laughs again lightly as she replaces the tube. Then, humming a little song, she picks up the duster, dips it into the polish and begins to rub the lacquer very deli- cately. MRS. QUINNEY enters R., carrying a feather duster. She is still a pretty woman of middle age, who obviously has not enjoyed all the advantages bestowed upon her daughter. She drops an occasional aitch, and is not quite sure of her grammar.] MRS. QUINNEY. Thought I heard you talking just before I come in. POSY. [Up R.C.] I was asking Jim through the tube where Father was. Any harm in that F MRS. QUINNEY. [Crossing L.] Jim ? Your father would be very dis- pleased if he heard you speaking of James as Jim. It's too familiar. POSY. Why? MRS. QUINNEY. I'm not going to bandy words with you, Posy, because you do get the best of me thanks to the extra fine schooling you've had. POSY. Now, Mumsie, please don't rub that in. I'm fed up with such vain repetitions from Daddy. I didn't ask him to send 4 QUINNEYS' me to an expensive school. I believe he did it to annoy our poor relations. MRS. QUINNEY. Dear heart! What things you say! [Sits on tabouret]. But 'tis more than half true. I remember my mother buying a pianner for the same reason. We lived in a semi- detached, and it made the neighbours next door tear their hair with envy and jealousy. [Posy is rubbing vigorously, while her mother stands on the hearth, dusting the blue- an d-w kite jars.] Rub that lacquer very gently, Posy. Coax the polish back. POSY. Right oh! MRS. QUINNEY. Father thinks the world of that cabinet. POSY. [Demurely.] So do I. MRS. QUINNEY. [Rather more sharply.] Do you ? Then your pore father is comin' out in you. He prefers things to persons. POSY. [Arrested.] Mumsie! MRS. QUINNEY. [Obstinately.] It's true, and you'd better be warned in time, child. The beauty o' this world ain't to be found in sticks and stones. [Gesture.] [PosY giggles.] Nothing to giggle at. It's tragedy. I firmly believe, if Father had to choose between me and this table [she has moved across to the beautiful table, painted by Cipriani] he wouldn't take me. QUINNEYS' 5 POSY. Is it very valuable ? MRS. QUINNEY. He's been offered four hundred pound for it. He's had it since before we married. I've been jealous of thatpainted beauty, I have. POSY. [Running to her and kissing her.] You funny old Mumsie ! Why, I've always thought of you as so happy and satisfied. MRS. QUINNEY. I was happy when we lived in a cottage in York. \As POSY kisses her in silence, the door opens, and MABEL DREDGE appears. She is a tall, good-looking young woman, dark and pale. She speaks in a quiet, even voiced] MABEL. If you please MRS. QUINNEY. [Crossing C.~\ Mr. Quinney is out, Miss Dredge. MABEL. I know. The chairs have just come. POSY. The chairs from Christopher's ? [MABEL nods.] How exciting! MABEL. Mr. Quinney left orders that they were to be unpacked and brought up here. We have unpacked them. MRS. QUINNEY. Then bring them up. Tell James. 6 QUINNEYS' MABEL. Yes, madam. MRS. QUINNEY. [Sharply.] You're not looking very well, Miss Dredge. Lost your nice colour, what you brought from the country. MABEL. I am quite well, thank you, madam. [She goes out quietly, closing door.] MRS. QUINNEY. Crossed in love, I daresay. POSY. Poor dear! I hope not. MRS. QUINNEY. Six months ago I did think that she and James might make a match of it. POSY. [Sharply.] What ? MRS. QUINNEY. Why shouldn't they ? Very suitable. Both staying in the same house, too. POSY. [Recovering herself.] Yes. [Changing the subject too quickly.] I suppose the Christopher chairs are not for sale, although Father paid nine hundred guineas for them. MRS. QUINNEY. [Surprised.] Lor', Posy, how do you know what he paid ? POSY. [Crosses L.C.] It's in to-day's paper. [Runs across to desk] Here you are! [Turns over a page] " Spirited QUINNEYS' 7 bidding at Christopher's Auction Rooms. A very remark- able set of eight chairs, said to be by the hand of Chippendale himself, and of his finest workmanship, were secured by the famous dealer, Mr. Joseph Quinney, for nine hundred guineas." MRS. QUINNEY. Sinful ! If he means to keep them. And he never does sell anything out of his sanctuary. POSY. [Laying down paper.] I'm dying to see them. MRS. QUINNEY. [Mournfully.] Sticks and stones, child! POSY. [Going up to cabinet.] Cheer up, Mumsie. I shan't de- vote my young life to a stick or stone. [Enter JIM. He is a tall young man, evidently a thruster in business. He is good-looking, and neatly dressed in plain blue serge.] JIM. Good morning, ladies. MRS. QUINNEY. Good morning, James. Where is Mr. Quinney ? JIM. He went to the Ritz this morning to meet a Mr. Hunsaker, introduced by Mr. Tomlin. MRS. QUINNEY. Who is Mr. Hunsaker ? POSY. [With girlish excitement.} I know all about him, too! 8 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. Bless the child! What don't she know! POSY. He's in the paper, Mumsie. A young American million- aire from New Mexico. Mr. Cyrus P. Hunsaker, of Hun- saker. JIM. Where shall I put the chairs ? MRS. QUINNEY. Anywhere for the moment. [Turns up and dusts screen. JIM opens both doors,] POSY. In a good light. Father will want to gloat over them. [MRS. QUINNEY sits on the tabouret, or stool, facing the fire, as two WORKMEN bring in four chairs, two each. JIM arranges them as follows. There are in all two arm-chairs and six plain chairs, riband-back pattern, of Chippendale's best period, with needle-work seats. The first arm-chair, which, for purposes of stage direc- tion, we shall call I, is placed near the stool upon which MRS. QUINNEY is sitting, and facing the audience. Three plain chairs are placed in a diagonal row next to it. Chair 4 will be opposite the lacquer cabinet and near it, with room to pass behind it. The other arm- chair 5, and chairs 6, J, and 8 stretch, also diagonally, from the cabinet to the window, R.] MRS. QUINNEY. [Pulling round arm-chair.] You don't mean to tell me that Mr. Quinney paid nine hundred pounds for eight o' them ? QUINNEYS' 9 JIM. [C. Suavely .] Guineas, madam. [The WORKMEN disappear.] MRS. QUINNEY. [L.C] Sticks and stones! JIM. Mr. Quinney will sell them again at a handsome profit. [Bang off.] MRS. QUINNEY. Mind them doors, young man. [She crosses.] [While he is talking, POSY is examining the chairs very carefully, with quite the air of an expert's daughter. She feels the " patine," strokes the carving, and examines the needle-work.] [MRS. QUINNEY goes on to the landing] POSY. [Moving near JIM.] I suppose they are wonderful. JIM. If your father thinks so, they are. [Dropping his voice.} Posy, darling [Noise off.] POSY. [Finger on lips] Shush-h-h! MRS. QUINNEY. [Off] You be careful of my white paint, young man! [PosY flits to the door, glances through it, flits back, and holds up her face to be kissed. They move apart as the MEN are heard outside] B io QUINNEYS' POSY. [In her ordinary voice.] What were you saying, James ? JIM. [Ordinary voice] Mr. Quinney is putting these chairs in here in order to sell 'em at a top price. [MEN enter with four more chairs, preceded by MRS. QUINNEY. MEN go out again, followed by MRS. QUINNEY concerned about her paint] Everybody knows that the things in his sanctuary are not for sale except at an almost prohibitive figure. JIM. [Down L,, in a whisper.] I'll get my letter. [Goes up L. towards cabinet] POSY. [Alarmed] No! Wait till we're at lunch. JIM. [At head of stool by chairs] [Nodding] Do you think you can coax your father ? POSY. I suppose Father appreciates you, Jim ? JIM. [Arranging chair up C] At three pounds a week, that's all. MRS. QUINNEY. [At door] Three pounds a week ? [Goes to window] JIM. [Politely] My wages, Ma'am. QUINNEYS' ii POSY. [To her mother.'] What does three pounds a week mean turned into appreciation ? [Motor heard off.] MRS. QUINNEY. The master has just come in with a tall young gentleman. [JiM, without replying, takes the hint and goes.] MRS. QUINNEY. What was you talking about, Posy, to James F POSY. [Lightly] Values. [Turning to polish cabinet.] MRS. QUINNEY. [Relieved] Oh ! business ? [Enter QUINNEY : a quaint and arresting figure, evi- dently an original. He is dressed in a grey morning coat and trousers, of odd cut and very baggy at the knees. His collar is cut low, and his tie is a big loose bow. Hir hair is grey, and he sports a small moustache. Other- wise, he is clean-shaven. He has odd gestures, mutters and chuckles to himself, and is obviously very absent- minded, except when his interest is challenged, when he becomes tremendously alert. His complexion indicates a choleric and sanguine temperament. Whenever he touches a valuable bit of furniture or china, his voice becomes soft, and he caresses each object almost sensually as if the mere touch of it was intense pleasure to him. He speaks with a strong Yorkshire accent. From his voice, manner and general deportment, it is evident that he has a superlative opinion of himself, and his posses- sions. Nevertheless, the native swank and conceit of the man is delightfully tempered by his whimsicality* His smile is disarming, his laughter infectious^] 12 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. Ah ! There are the chairs ! [Looks round and sees them?] Ah ! [Rubs his hands and chuckles as he goes to them.'] I've got a customer downstairs who wants to have a look at 'em. MRS. QUINNEY. Shall Posy and I go ? QUINNEY. [Examining chairs, takes the seat of one out, down L.C} Not necessary. Fine, up-standin' young feller. Money and brains. Cyrus P. Hunsaker. [PosY, at a sign from her mother, takes off her pinafore, revealing a smart new frock. Round her neck she wears a string of large, pretty beads, decorative but inexpensive.} MRS. QUINNEY. Joe, dear. [Coming down C. to above desk} QUINNEY. Hey ? [Still engrossed with chairs.] MRS. QUINNEY. Where are we going to for our holiday this year ? QUINNEY. We ? I ain't going, Susie. Too busy. You and young Posy pick yer own place. I'll pay the bill. Hello! hello! [He leaves the chairs and crosses to the Chippendale cabinet, R., which he unlocks. MRS. QUINNEY'S face indicates disappointment. She shrugs her shoulders, and makes another sign to POSY, who approaches her father} POSY. Daddy. {Coming down R. to him} QUINNEYS' 13 QuiNNEY. [Not looking at her, taking down a bit of china which he caresses lovingly.] Yes ? POSY. How do you like my new frock ? QUINNEY. [Absent-mindedly ] Dirty very dirty. POSY. What ! My lovely frock dirty ? QUINNEY. [Staring at her, smiling] No, this bit of china, love. POSY. [Pouting] I asked how you liked my new frock. QUINNEY. [Doubtfully.] Seems all right. [He stares at the beads.] Where you get them beads ? POSY. A friend gave them to me. Aren't they pretty ? QUINNEY. [Roughly] Take 'em off! Quick! [She does so reluctantly] Give 'em to me. [She does so. He examines them with an angry snort] Thought so ! Cheap rubbish and you know I hate rubbish [Hands them back] Give 'em to one o' the servants. By gum ! I'd hate to have Mr. Hunsaker see you wearing them. Hold on! [He goes to his desk, opens a drawer, L., pulls out a handful of beautiful old necklaces, selects two, and holds them up, smiling and chuckling] i 4 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. There, my pretty Do'y. Take your choice. [He holds them out, one in each hand.] POSY. [Drops beads on desk.] Daddy! [She laughs.] This one. [Comes to his left.] Thanks most awfully. QUINNEY. Good lass! You've picked best. Put it on. Don't let me never see my daughter wearin' rubbish again! [He crosses down and over to L.] [MRS. QUINNEY collects dusters from cabinet, while QUINNEY stumps up to the speaking-tube. POSY shows the necklace to her mother, who fastens it round her neck.] \At tube, whistling down it.] Is that you, Miss Dredge ? Tell our James to bring Mr. Hunsaker up here. [Replaces tube and comes back to his desk.] [PosY crosses to door. MRS. QUINNEY collects feather broom and polish bowl, as QUINNEY puts the necklaces into drawer, and is shutting it] Ho! Where are you going, my lass ? POSY. [Laughing.] To look at myself in a glass. QUINNEY. No, yer don't. [Sits at desk.] I want this young Yank to look at yer first. See ? POSY. Right ho! [She runs across to stool, jumps on it and looks at herself in glass above mantel.] QUINNEYS' 15 JIM opens the door, ushering in MR. HUNSAKER. JIM retires. HUNSAKER is a well-made young man, full of beans, keen in look and voice and manner. Typically a Westerner. He speaks with slight accent. His first glance falls on POSY. Obviously he is much taken with her charming appearance] MRS. QUINNEY. Posy! Posy! QUINNEY. [Rises. Genially.] This is the sanctuary, Mr. Hunsaker. What do you think of it, hey ? HUNSAKER. [Staring at POSY.] Beautiful! [PosY jumps off stool.] QUINNEY. [Chuckling.] Everything here I value most, including my wife and daughter. [He takes bowl and broom from MRS. QUINNEY, places them on desk and then walks round the chairs.] HUNSAKER. Pleased to meet you, ladies. I've heard of this famous sanctuary. [Below desk.] POSY. [Coming forward, followed by MRS. QUINNEY.] We have heard of Mr. Hunsaker, of Hunsaker. [To him.] HUNSAKER. [At his ease at once, and addressing POSY.] Ever been told how that great and growing town came to be called after me ? POSY. [Interested.] No. Please tell us. 16 QUINNEYS' HUNSAKER. [Very genial.] In New Mexico, ladies, they had the habit of calling towns after saints. They were going to christen my little village San Clements, but I said to the boys : " Hold on, fellers! Ain't we fed up with saints ? Let's call this burg by the name of a sinner." And the joke's on me they called it Hunsaker. [Laughs heartily.] [MRS. QUINNEY shakes her head and goes round POSY to desk, retrieving her bowl and broom.] POSY. Are you a sinner, Mr. Hunsaker ? HUNSAKER. I'm not a saint, Miss Quinney, when I'm up against the wrong crowd. Gee! The chairs. [Crosses L.] [PosY sits at desk.] QUINNEY. [Carelessly] Good solid stuff. Lordy! How I hate rubbish ! Now, a cabinet like that [points to lacquer cabinet] makes me feel good. I can say my prayers to it, Mr. Hunsaker. [Comes down.] MRS. QUINNEY. [Majestically] Don't be blasphemious, Joe! [QUINNEY twists $rd chair round to light and examines it at window.] QUINNEY. Blasphemious! [To HUNSAKER.] It's blasphemy, to my notion, to prefer ugliness to beauty. The biggest crime I didn't commit, Mr. Hunsaker, was when my poor misguided father wanted me to marry an ugly, laughin' hyena of a draper's daughter, just because she'd got something in her stockin' besides a leg like a bed-post. QUINNEYS' 17 POSY. Daddy! [Laughs,] [HUNSAKER is much amused. MRS. QUINNEY scandal- ized^] MRS. QUINNEY. Now you're indelicate, Joe! QUINNEY. [Laughing^ I chose her. [Indicates MRS. QUINNEY.] And the result [points to POSY] justified my choice hey ? HUNSAKER. [Enthusiastically.] I should say so! [Whistle of speaking-tube sounds^] QUINNEY. [To MRS. QUINNEY.] Tell em' downstairs that I'm en- gaged, Susie. [To POSY.] You can stop and help Father. [Below desk] [To HUNSAKER.] She's a good helpful child, Mr. Hunsaker. [HUNSAKER rises nobly to the occasion. He smiles genially at POSY, as MRS. QUINNEY walks to door, carrying duster and polish^ HUNSAKER. I take Miss Posy to be the most precious object in this wonderful room, sir. The gem if I may say so of your re-markable collection. [MRS. QUINNEY has quietly disappeared. POSY stands at attention, close to HUNSAKER. Her eyes are demurely cast down while her father is speaking] QUINNEY. [Chucking her under the chin] Yes, she is, bless her! Just like a bit of old Chelsea, hey ? The real soft paste! And as 1 8 QUINNEYS' good as she's pretty ; the apple of Father's eye. Educated, too, Mr. Hunsaker. Finishing school at Brighton. Plays the pi-anner and the mandoline. Sings like a canary. Cost me five thousand pound. POSY. Oh, Daddy, surely not so much as that? QUINNEY. [To HUNSAKER.] I figure it out like this. One way and t'other, our Posy stands me in nigh upon fifteen hundred. If I'd put that into old Waterford glass, it would have been a clean five thousand, see ? HUNSAKER. [Laughing.] I see. But you won't keep her long, Mr. Quinney. QUINNEY. [Sharply.] What ? HUNSAKER, Not if there are any spry young men about. QUINNEY. [Solemnly.] I'm going to hold on tight to my little lass and don't you forget it. She is the gem of my collection. [Moving back chair 4.] Lordy ! We're wastin' your valu- able time. 'Ere, Posy, get that case of miniatures, the small one. [She goes for it.] I can show you a Samuel Cooper, two Englehearts, a Plimer, and any number of Cosways. [PosY puts case on the desk] HUNSAKER. I know nothing of miniatures. That's some table 1 [Points to Cipriani table] QUINNEYS' 19 QuiNNEY. [Rubbing his hands enthusiastically.] Champion! Mr. Hunsaker, it's a pleasure to show you stuff. You have the collector's eye, sir. Posy, them chairs is all over the room. [He moves chair 5 back to wall. POSY moves J and 8.] We got that table I've refused four hundred for it. HUNSAKER. Dollars ? QUINNEY. No ; pounds ! It was a rare bargain. Painted by Cipriani. HUNSAKER. Indeed. [PosY moves chair 6.] QUINNEY. Has a history, too. [Chuckles.] HUNSAKER. May I ask for the history, Mr. Quinney ? QUINNEY. It's history includes one broken leg and a fit! [Chuckles .again.] HUNSAKER. My curiosity is excited, sir. POSY. [Eagerly] So is mine. QUINNEY. [With a slight change."] Um ! POSY. Daddy -please ! 20 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. That table belonged to a rum old maiden lady what lived in York. She knew nothing of its value, or who painted it. A dealer offered her five pounds for it. POSY. Oh! QUINNEY. She hesitated, and he saw she was tempted ; but she refused, and he didn't dare offer more. The old lady had one or two bits of Early Worcester ; so, on pretence of show- ing these to a collector, the dealer turned up a few days after with a stout friend, apoplectic-lookin' chap. The stout friend praises the china see ? And then he begins to froth at the mouth, having previously slipped a bit of soap under his tongue. Then he pretends to fall down in a fit, and as he falls, grabs the table, and breaks off a leg. There's where the leg was mended. \Down on his knees.] Neat job, too! [Indicates the injured leg.] POSY. But why did he do this ? QUINNEY. Why, Miss Bloomin' Innocence ? [Up.] [Chuckles.] I'll explain. When the fellow came to, after his fit, the dealer apologized, and said that the only reparation he could offer would be the fi'-pun note previously offered. The old lady gobbled it quick ! HUNSAKER. [Warmly, ] A couple of scoundrels ! Men are lynched for less than that in my country. QUINNEYS' 21 QuiNNEY. [Genuinely surprised.] Lord bless you, Mr. Hunsaker, the old girl didn't know the value of the article. I take it you buy in the cheapest market, and sell at the biggest profit, hey ? HUNSAKER. Yes. But QUINNEY. So do I. If folk knew the value of what they own, we dealers would starve. Now then, let me show you some of my Prunus jars. [Goes to mantelpiece.] HUNSAKER. [Turning to the chairs I and 2] Are these the Christopher chairs ? QUINNEY. They're the Quinney chairs. [HUNSAKER nods.] They came out of an old castle in the West of Ireland. HUNSAKER. I reckon you satisfied yourself, Mr. Quinney, that they were O.K. QUINNEY. I know more about chairs than any man in the kingdom. Look at this chair, Mr. Hunsaker. [He holds up the Carolean chair near screen^] See that rose. It's a Stuart rose. And that crown on the front splat is an emblem of loyalty to King Charles II, the Merry Monarch. HUNSAKER. [Tremendously impressed] You don't say so. 22 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. [Best showman's manner] Pay particular attention, sir, to the legs, paw and claw, the lion's claw, indicatin' the strength of the British Constitootion after the Restoration. HUNSAKER. Gee! QUINNEY. [Solemnly] Chapter of English history that chair! HUNSAKER. You bet your socks! [PosY comes down C] Is it for sale, Mr. Quinney ? QUINNEY. [Patting the chair as if it were a beloved, child.] No ; it isn't. [Puts chair back] HUNSAKER. I like these chairs best. Allow me. [He helps POSY with chair 2] POSY. Thank you. QUINNEY. I thought you had all the Chippendale you wanted ? HUNSAKER. [Up R] I've got more than I want which isn't Chip- pendale. QUINNEY. Posy ! Coming over ! [Throws small bunch of keys to POSY.} Get out that Family Noire bowl ! [PosY goes to china cupboard and opens it. QUINNEY takes blue-and-white jar from the mantelpiece] QUINNEYS' 23 HUNSAKER. I've been badly done over English mahogany. QUINNEY. Dear! dear! I've been done too, in my time, crisp as a biscuit. Everybody's done, hey ? [Caresses far.] HUNSAKER. [Grimly.] I'm never done by the same man twice. [He- examines the arm-chair, .] Beautiful! QUINNEY. By gum! I wish you could have seen the settee that I sold to the Grand Duke Alexis of Roosia. HUNSAKER. I understand, Mr. Quinney, that you paid nine hundred guineas for the set ? QUINNEY. [Holds up jar.] I had two glasses of old brown sherry after lunch. My advice to all and sundry is: "Buy before lunch, unless " HUNSAKER. Unless ? QUINNEY. [Jovially.] Unless you're a bloomin' vegetarian and teetotaler. HUNSAKER. Will you take a profit on your chairs, Mr. Quinney ? QUINNEY. You look at that Family Noire bowl, and you won't want to buy chairs. [PosY has come R.C., carrying the precious bowl. HUNSAKER turns to her.] 24 QUINNEYS' HUNSAKER. [Staring at POSY.] Lovely! [To QUINNEY.] Is the bowl for sale ? QUINNEY. [Sharply.] No it isn't. [He replaces the blue-and-white jar on the mantelpiece, as POSY puts back the bowl into the cupboard."] HUNSAKER. [Near chairs, turning his back to audience.] Suffering Mike ! That's an elegant bottle ! [He indicates the mirror-black bottle on the lacquer cabinet. POSY approaches the cabinet, evidently alarmed^ QUINNEY. There ain't a finer bit of mirror-black Kang He in the Salting collection. [PosY begins to rub the cabinet again.] HUNSAKER. [Going up to her.] Chinese lacquer ? POSY. Yes, sir. QUINNEY. On a Charles the Second stand. [Smacks his lips.] HUNSAKER. Is it signed inside ? [At L. corner of stand.} QUINNEY. [Going up.] No, but the inside is as beautiful as the out- side. I'll show it to you. Hullo ! where's the key ? [Looks at POSY.] QUINNEYS' 25 POSY. It was in the lock the day before yesterday. I saw it. QUINNEY. Can you see it now, lass ? POSY. No. HUNSAKER. Don't trouble. Is that screen Chinese ? QUINNEY. Yes, incised lacquer. They wanted that for the South Kensington. Hits you bang in the eye hey ? HUNSAKER. Is it for sale ? QUINNEY. No, it isn't. HUNSAKER. [Impressed.] Mr. Quinney, [sits on stool] you have here an incomparable reservation. It's a gratuitous education to look at your things, sir. QUINNEY. It's the only education I've had, by gum! I began life as a worm-holer. HUNSAKER. A worm-holer ? QUINNEY. Aye ! Had to make worm-holes in old wood. [Chuckles.] By gum! I invented a special machine for it. c 26 QUINNEYS' HUNSAKER. Mighty interesting. I wish, Mr. Quinney, that I could persuade you to part with some of your treasures. [Rising.] Is that cabinet for sale ? QUINNEY. No, it isn't. [Coming down to chair i] But as we've never had no dealings to speak of, I will try to oblige you. What do you want ? HUNSAKER. This set of chairs. [Placing hand on chair I .] QUINNEY. Anything else ? HUNSAKER. That bottle. [Points to the jar which contains the key of cabinet.} QUINNEY. [Carelessly.] Don't care so much about that bottle. There ought to be two of 'em. HUNSAKER. Will you take a 200 profit on those chairs ? QUINNEY. I paid guineas, Mr. Hunsaker. HUNSAKER. I'll offer eleven hundred guineas. I take it that the newspapers reported the price you paid correctly ? QUINNEY. [Pulling a paper from his pocket] There you are. [Hands it to HUNSAKER, who reads it] Christopher's receipt for my money. QUINNEYS' 27 HUNSAKER. Quite in order. [Returns it.] [Posv, while engaged on her task, has followed this talk with increasing interest^ QUINNEY. Are you wanting them for yourself ? HUNSAKER. I want them for my house in Hunsaker. It cost two hundred thousand dollars outside, and I'm putting as much again into it. QUINNEY. They're yours, sir. HUNSAKER. I am much obliged. QUINNEY. And, just to sweeten this deal, I'll throw in the mirror- black bottle. It's been feeling extra cold without its mate. [He approaches the bottle, which stands on the cabinet^] POSY. Shall I clean it, Father ? QUINNEY. It's as clean as you are, my lass, or ought to be. [He- takes up the bottle from POSY, and gazes at it lovingly, smooth- ing its beautiful surfaced] HUNSAKER. [Warmly.] You are very generous. [Up to QUINNEY.] QUINNEY. [With a wink.] I wasn't born yesterday ! You've money to burn, and there are other things on sale downstairs, [Hands jar to HUNSAKER, who examines it.] 28 QUINNEYS' HUNSAKER. Any marks ? QuiNNEY. They never did mark them bottles. [HUNSAKER turns the jar upside down. The key drops out of it] Hullo, hullo! Why, it's the missing key, by gum! HUNSAKER. You mean it ? Thanks awfully. [QUINNEY picks key up, and places it in the lock of the cabinet. POSY exhibits slight nervousness.] HUNSAKER. [Glancing at watch.]. I am late for an important appoint- ment ; but I'll call again to-morrow morning, at eleven sharp. QUINNEY. Always at your service, Mr. Hunsaker. [Takes bottle.] HUNSAKER. Thank you, sir. [Shakes hands, and then turns to POSY.] Good-bye, Miss Posy. POSY. Good-bye, Mr. Hunsaker. [Shakes hands.] [HUNSAKER goes out, followed by QUINNEY. Instantly POSY flies to the lacquer cabinet, hesitates, listens and is about to open it with obvious intention of retrieving her letter, when HUNSAKER'S voice is heard] HUNSAKER. I can find my way down alone, Mr. Quinney. Till to- morrow, sir. QUINNEYS' 29 [Posv has just time to leave the cabinet, and to take up a position on the hearthrug, apparently staring at the blue- and-white vases, when QUINNEY comes back. He is- chuckling and rubbing his hands.] POSY. You look pleased, Daddy. QUINNEY. [Closing door.] I am pleased. [Meets her, staring keenly at her] Did that young man squeeze your hand just now t POSY. Daddy! QUINNEY. Did he ? POSY. [Laughing.] If you must know, he did. QUINNEY. [Rubbing his hands] Good! Kind o' test case. You ain't seen many o' the real right sort in young men, and I just wanted to satisfy myself what effect you might have on 'em. He liked you even better than the chairs. [He pats her cheek and then sits at his desk.] POSY. [Hesitatingly] Daddy dear. I'd like to ask you a question. [Fidgets slightly.] QUINNEY. Don't fidget, lass! Ask your question. [Chuckles] L don't promise to answer it. POSY. This table 30 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. What of it ? POSY. Mumsie said you had it at York. [Nervously.] Do you know the name of the dealer who played that trick on the old maiden lady ? QUINNEY. Yes, I do. [Frowns.] POSY. What was his name ? QUINNEY. I'd like to lie to you, but I won't. His name was Quinney. POSY. Oh ! it was you ? QUINNEY. That's right! Go on! Believe the worst of your own father. POSY. It wasn't you ? QUINNEY. No. It was your grandfather see ? POSY. [Miserably.] He got it for five pounds, and you've re- fused four hundred for it! Oh! [Falls into chair I, and f overs her face with her hands] QUINNEY. Lordy! Whatever is the matter ? QUINNEYS' 31 POSY. It seems such a swindle. QuiNNEY. [Rises to C., fiercely, and on his defence^] Now, look ye here. I'm going to put you right on this for ever and ever. Who creates the big values of pictures and furniture ? POSY. I I don't know. QUINNEY. We do [decisively] we dealers. It's not the silly owners, who don't even know enough to keep their good stuff in decent condition. It's not the ignorant public. It's us\ [Holds up his head, inflating his chest.] We create the de- mand, and we fix the price, and, by gum! we're entitled to the profit. POSY. [More meekly.] But that table was come by dishonestly QUINNEY. I don't deny it. Pore dealers are not trained to be honest Got that ? [She nods.] But I value honesty. Proof ? I've spent time and money in makin' you honest. Never struck you, did it ? that you owe your honesty to me, that I've paid for it. Don't you dare to judge my father or your father by the standard which I've given you! POSY. I told the girls at school you were the most honest dealer in London. 32 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. [Quietly.] So I am the honestest dealer in all the world. Scoot off to Mother. [He rises and crosses room, moving up stage. He looks at chair he has left.] POSY. [Glancing nervously at cabinet.] Shan't I finish polishing that ? QUINNEY. Not now. You oughtn't to be doing it at all, spoiling your pretty hands. Scoot! POSY obeys slowly. Obviously she hates to leave the room without retrieving her letter in the cabinet. QUINNEY, at his desk, is bending over some papers. POSY glances at the cabinet and then at him, and then pauses near the chairs. She stares at them.] POSY. Didn't you have some old walnut chairs like these ? QUINNEY. [Alert^] Where did you see them walnut chairs ? POSY. In James's room. [Going to door, R., opening it] QUINNEY. [Thunderously] Ho! And what was you doing in my foreman's room, hey ? [PosY closes door] POSY. Is there any reason why I shouldn't talk to your foreman ? QUINNEYS' 33 QuiNNEY. [C., contemptuously^ Aye! Half a dozen; but one'll do. [Pauses^] POSY. [R.C., coming forward. With slight defiance^ May I hear it ? QUINNEY. When you come back from that expensive boarding- school, a young lady fit to compare or to consort with any in the land, I told James that his place was downstairs, and that yours was up. POSY. Well ? QUINNEY. [Sharply .] Has he been coming up to you, or have you been sneakin' down to him ? Answer me! [PosY confronts him R.C., but slightly betrays her agita- tion. QUINNEY'S expression softens as he gazes keenly at her.] POSY. [With spirit.] I supposed I could go where I liked in my father's house. I have seen James at work. His work interested me. It's not very surprising, is it ? that I should be interested in your business. QUINNEY. [Tapping her cheek] You mind your own, my lass, for the present. Now pop off. Wait! Give us a kiss. [She does so he looks at her, holding her face between his hands] That's a little dear! You've got a father with ambitions. Posy, a kind, loving, clever old dad! [Chuckles] Lordy! 34 QUINNEYS' Sometimes I fair wonder at myself, I do indeed, because I've climbed so high ; but you're a-going higher, bang up ! Good looks. I'll admit that you got some o' them from Mother, and good brains, same as mine ; quick wits too. You made a hit with Cyrus Hunsaker. Now scoot! [She trips off R. He watches her admiringly. Then he crosses to the speaking tube* and whistles down it.] That you, my lad ? Mr. Hunsaker gone ? Right ! Come you up here. [Hangs up tube, as he turns to come down. He smiles complacently at the different objects in room. He is carrying up chair I, when JIM enters with a teapot in his hand.] Ho! I've sold the chairs, James. Pack 'em at once. Eh! Might be a shop this room. JIM. Yes, sir. QUINNEY. [Grumblingly]. Ten per cent, goes to Sam Tomlin. Eats with his fore-feet in the trough, does my precious brother- in-law ! JIM. Ten per cent, to Mr. Tomlin ? QUINNEY. He introduced Mr. Hunsaker. [Down to desk.] What you got there ? JIM. That square mark Worcester teapot you sold yesterday. QUINNEY. [Surprised.] What about it ? JIM. Customer brought it back. Says it's a fake. QUINNEYS' 35 QuiNNEY. [Irritably.] It isn't. [Leaving him.] JIM. [Respectfully.] I think it is, sir. The paste is all right, but the gilding.and some of the decoration is of a later period. [QUINNEY seizes teapot, carries it to the window up L., looking at it. Then he comes back, goes to his desk, gets a small magnifying glass, and examines it frowningly] QUINNEY. By gum! he's right. [Sits at desk] What's the matter with me ? I passed that bit downstairs. JIM. Yes, sir. QUINNEY. This just settles it. I must take to glasses. Return the money, and sell that for what it is. [Hands back teapot] [More cheerfully.] You ought to have been here just now, my lad. An object-lesson in selling stuff! JIM. [Ingratiatingly] Nobody like you for that, sir. QUINNEY. I'm uneducated, and I know it, but my talk is full o' meat and gravy. It's nourishin'. It's nourished you, James. JIM. Yes, sir. QUINNEY. Though I do say it as shouldn't, there ain't my equal in the trade. 36 QUINNEYS' JIM. And such a father! QUINNEY. Always done my dooty. That's a thought to stick to one's ribs, hey ? JIM. Ah! QUINNEY. Never can remember the day when I couldn't say that. Square too, I've been. I know a deal more, my lad, than you think for. And you owe a lot to me, James. JIM. Yes, sir. QUINNEY. I took you from that pincher, Sam Tomlin. How much do I pay you ? JIM. Three quid a week and tips. QUINNEY. And tips. It'll be four quid a week soon. JIM. Thank you, sir. [Going.] QUINNEY. [Sharply.] You'll be thinking of gettin' wed one o' these fine days ? JIM. [Lightly] I have thought of it. QUINNEY. [Confidentially] What you want, my lad, is a helpmate, a worker like yourself, strong, healthy, and comely. QUINNEYS' 37 JIM. Yes, sir. [Softly.] Strong healthy and comely. QuiNNEY. A rare 'un to cook, and wash, and sweep. JIM. [Ironically.] Sort o' general servant ? QUINNEY. [Slily.] One who'll work hard in your house, while you're .a-working harder still in mine, see ? JIM. [Thoughtfully.] Yes. QUINNEY. Lucky you are to have me to advise you. There are young men in your position who make fools o' theirselves t>y falling in love with young ladies, useless creatures. It would hurt me to see you doing that, my lad. [Picks up paper on desk.] JIM. I'm sure it would. Much obliged, sir. QUINNEY. [Rising.] Not at all. [He crosses to the stool.] Never so .happy as when I'm thinking for others. [Stares at himself complacently in the glass above mantelpiece^ [At this moment JIM perceives the beads, which POSY has left on the desk. He stares at them, frowning, and then, knowing that QUINNEY'S back is to him, quietly slips them into his pocket. QUINNEY sees this action re- flected in the mirror. He sits on the stool, reading the paper as JIM moves towards the door, R.] Hold on! Pack up that Kang He bottle, too. 38 QUINNEYS' JIM. Yes, sir. [JiM goes to cabinet and takes bottle.] QuiNNEY. Where did you put the key o' that cabinet ? [Points to the lacquer cabinet.] JIM. The key's in the lock, sir. QUINNEY. I found it in that Kang He bottle. Did you put it there for safety ? JIM. No, sir. QUINNEY. That's aU. [JiM goes out.] [As soon as QUINNEY is alone, he rises ; his face betrays excitement and nervous energy. He glances at lacquer cabinet. 'Then he unlocks the cabinet and throws open both doors. He examines the drawers ; and out of one of them he takes unsealed letter^] By gum! [He stares at the envelope, his lips twitching with anger. Then he opens and reads the letter inside. Bus. ; indi- cating surprise , confusion, exasperation and rage. He goes to door and opens it.] Susan! MRS. QUINNEY. [Off.] What? QUINNEY. Come here, Susie. QUINNEYS' 39 MRS. QUINNEY. [Off.] I'm very busy, Joe. Shall I send Posy ? QUINNEY. I want you, love. Matter o' business. [He goes back to table, sees the cabinet open, shuts it care- fully, and comes down again as MRS. QUINNEY enters] Shut the door. MRS. QUINNEY. [Obeys. Perceiving her husband's face.] Lor', Joe ! is the house afire ? QUINNEY. No, I am. Listen. I found this in the lacquer cabinet a minute ago. [Holds up the envelope] It's addressed " To My Own Blue Bird." It's in Posy's writin'. MRS. QUINNEY. Oh dear, oh dear! QUINNEY. [Irritably] Don't make stoopid noises! They indicate a mind out o' whack see ? Now, sit tight ! [She sits.] I'm going to read this letter, written by your daughter, ma'am MRS. QUINNEY. [Confused.] My daughter! Ain't she yours too ? QUINNEY. I'm beginning to doubt it. Now [reads aloud] " My Own Blue Bird " MRS. QUINNEY. Who is her blue bird ? 40 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. We'll come to that presently. A dam blue bird, accord- ing to you, stands for happiness. Pschah! MRS. QUINNEY. [Nervously.] Read the letter, Joe. [She waggles her foot.] QUINNEY. [Working himself up] I'm a-going to, if you'll kindly stop wigglin' your foot. [Reads] " It was splendidly clever of you to think of using that stupid old cabinet " Stoopid old cabinet! I've refused seven hundred for it! MRS. QUINNEY. Go on, Father! QUINNEY. I'm going on. I'm going bang to the outside edge o' this ''ere. [Quivers with rage as he continues] " of using that stupid old cabinet as a pillar-box, and the fact that we are corresponding under the nose of Father makes the whole affair deliriously exciting and romantic. I should like to see his dear funny face ' Hear that, Mother? Funny face! Is my face funny ? Is it ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Quite unstrung] Not now, Joe. Is there any more ? QUINNEY. Is there any more, Mrs. Ask- Another! D'ye think a girl educated at no-expense-spared ends a sentence in the middle of it ? Keep that foot still, and I'll finish. [Reads] " I should like to see his dear funny face if he could read this. . . . MRS. QUINNEY. My! QUINNEYS' 41 QUINNEY. [Savagely.] She shall see it, by gum ! [Continues reading."] " We've got to be most awfully careful, because if he caught me talking to you, except about his dull old business, he would simply chatter with rage. Now for my surprise. Father and Mother are always fast asleep by 10.30." Are they? "At n to the minute, I shall be in the Sanctuary. You be ready downstairs. I'll whistle softly through the tube ; and we'll have a lovely talk. Your own POSY." MRS. QUINNEY. [Gasping.] Who is her Blue Bird ? QUINNEY. He'll be black-and-blue when I've man-handled him. It's that dog, James. MRS. QUINNEY. Joe, dear ; he's bigger than you ! QUINNEY. [Sarcastically.] After all these years o' churchgoing, I thought you believed that right was greater than might. 'As it all soaked in ? Did you mark that word " dull " applied to a business like mine ? Do you know what the contents o' this room would fetch at Christopher's, if the right people was bidding ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Tearfully.] Indeed I don't, Joe. QUINNEY. Nobody knows what the Quinney Collection would fetch. The Quinney Collection! S'pose I leave everything to the nation, hey ? Oh! the blooming deceit of her! D 42 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. You never deceived no one, did you, Joe ? QUINNEY. [Grimly.] Susan Quinney, if this idiot of a daughter of yours MRS. QUINNEY. [Protesting.] You've a half interest in her, Joe. QUINNEY. If this idiot of a daughter of ours, then cares more for my foreman than for us and what we represent, she can have him and be damned. MRS. QUINNEY. Joe! QUINNEY. But if she thinks that the dog wants her without the Quinney Collection, why, then, she's even a bigger idiot still. MRS. QUINNEY. [Rising, anxiously.] What are you going to do, dear ? [Pause]. QUINNEY. [In a low voice.] I'm going to catch 'em together to- night at 1 1 . [He goes to the cabinet and carefully replaces the letter where he found it, dosing the cabinet and locking it.] MRS. QUINNEY. Oh, lor*! QUINNEY. [Coming down C.] You've got to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. QUINNEYS' 45 MRS. QUINNEY. [Whimpering.] Oh, lor'! Oh, lor'! QUINNEY. Go it. [Crossing to L] Keep on mumbudgetin' like an old Poll Parrot. MRS. QUINNEY. What will you say to 'em, Joe ? QUINNEY. Come you over here. [MRS. QUINNEY crosses to him. He places her in a chair, puts a chair beside her, sits down in it, and lays his hand upon her arm.] I'll tell you. CURTAIN FALLS. ACT II SCENE : The same. Curtains drawn, and firelight only. TIME : Midnight. When the Curtain rises, the stage is almost in darkness and quite empty. MR. and MRS. QUINNEY enter silently R. Both are quaintly attired. QUINNEY has removed his ordinary coat and substituted an old-fashioned flowered dressing-gown. He wears a smoking-cap with tassel, set slightly on one side, which gives him a rakish look. He mutters to himself, and chuckles as he leads the way in. MRS. QUINNEY follows him resignedly. She also is wearing what may be de- scribed as a compromise kit. Evidently her hair has been arranged for the night, and she has put on a peignoir. She looks younger and prettier. QUINNEY stands by the door and lets his wife pass. QUINNEY. Get over by the fire, Mother! [He shuts the door very softly, and looks at his watch.] Five minutes yet. Sit you down, love! [MRS. QUINNEY nervously seats herself on extreme edge of stool. QUINNEY crosses and adjusts the screen. All his movements are furtive and quick. He pauses to 44 QUINNEYS' 45 listen, with his head on one side, and his eyes are bright and active as a squirrel's.] There! Couched in the ambush, as Mr. Shakespeare says. [Turning lights on above mantelpiece^ Remember when me and you took a course o' the bard to improve our powers o' speech. MRS. QUINNEY. Yes. [Sighing.] We was young then. QUINNEY. [Sits on stool facing fire] We're young still, dearie. Young and spry. Full o' beans. MRS. QUINNEY. We made it up to marry against your father's wish, and unbeknown to him. Yes, we did. QUINNEY. What are you getting at ? MRS. QUINNEY. I never told Mother that day you kissed me for the first time behind our parlour door. QUINNEY. Old dear, circumstances alter cases. My father made a white nigger o' me, but I wasn't disobedient. He said : " Don't let me hear of any goin's on atween you and that there Susan Biddlecombe ! " By gum ! He didn't. [Cuddles up to her] Me and you took jolly good care of that. Then he died, unexpected, and I remember thinking to myself : " I only hope as he knows better." [Chuckles.] MRS. QUINNEY. You did deceive him, Joe. 46 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. Yes, I did ; but I give the old man a tip-top funeral. Six mutes, port wine, spice cake and all. He'd have pinched something horrid over mine. MRS. QUINNEY. [Obstinately.'] But you did deceive him. QUINNEY. And serve him right! Father never knew quality. Quantity was what he'd go for. Lordy ! how he did wallow in job lots ! MRS. QUINNEY. [Sticking to her point.] And I deceived my pore mother. Used to wear my engagement ring at night. QUINNEY. [Staring at her in the soft light, with a softening voice.] By gum, Susie, I remember wishing I was that little ring. MRS. QUINNEY. Joe! [She cuddles up to him.] QUINNEY. [Reminiscently.] I used to wonder what you looked like when you was asleep. Great times them was, to be sure. MRS. QUINNEY. [Smiling ; coaxingly.] Because of those times, dear, go a bit easy with these young people. QUINNEY. [Rising.] You leave all that to me. I'll fix 'em to rights! I'll sweep the cobwebs out o' their silly noddles. It's struck me that I've bin to blame in making our young Posy so bloomin' ornamental. QUINNEYS' 47 MRS. QUINNEY. Come, Joe, our daughter didn't get all her good looks from you. QUINNEY. Handsome is as handsome does. Ever heard that before ? MRS. QUINNEY. [With a heavy sigh.] Once or twice. [QUINNEY goes to the door. Clock begins to strike n.] QUINNEY. [Listening^ Shush-h-h ! Quick ! Get be'ind screen. [He switches off lights on mantelpiece.] [They slip behind the lacquer screen as POSY enters. She is wearing a very becoming dressing-gown of pale blue silk, her hair is down her back in two pigtails, tied up with pale blue riband. Her feet are thrust into pale blue slippers. In this costume she looks younger, and, if possible, prettier. She switches on one of the electrics, crosses to the tube and whistles down it, very softly .] POSY. [At the tube.] Yes it's all right. Daddy fast asleep and snoring. Come up, Jim, but take your shoes off. The third stair from the top creaks badly. Skip that! [Short business before JIM arrives. POSY arranges the large arm-chair in front of the fire, which smoulders with a pleasant red glow. POSY jumps on and off one of the arms. Then she gives a low gurgle of laughter.] [JiM enters silently in his stockinged feet, carrying a pair of slippers. He closes the door noiselessly and places the slippers on the desk. He is fully dressed. They meet in the middle of the room, and kiss each other. It 48 QUINNEYS' must be quite obvious that POSY is still rather shy with her lover. When he hugs her too masterfully she slips from his arms with a low laugh.] POSY. Please don't. JIM. M [In a clear, low voice.] You like it, Posy ; you know you like it, you little darling. POSY. [Very bashfully] Yes, I like it. [Laughs] JIM. Awfully ? [Squeezing her,] Oh-ho ! POSY. What is it ? JIM. One of your pins in my finger. [Shows it POSY seizes his finger and kisses it] POSY. There! I've drunk your blood, Jim. JIM. Oh, you vampire! [Puts on slippers] [PosY flits over to fireplace and switches on mantelpiece lights] POSY. Now, Jim, sit on this chair. JIM. [He goes to her] Posy, do you think you can stand five hundred kisses. QUINNEYS' 49 POSY. Perhaps. [She goes round back of chair.] Presently. [Posv perches herself on the R. arm of chair. JIM slips his arm round her waist.] JIM. [Kneeling.] You do look a sweet. [She smiles.] You don't know much about kissing, darling. POSY. [Artlessly.] No, I don't. Do you ? JIM. [Artfully] I'd like to know more. [QuiN KEY'S face appears^ Shall I give you a butterfly kiss ? POSY. A butterfly kiss what's that ? JIM. The flicker of a pair of eyelashes upon a pretty cheek. Bend down your cheek. [She does so. He flicks his eye- lashes against it] How do you like that ? POSY. [Considering, with her head slightly on one side.] It's not er very JIM. Satisfying. Posy, you're a flirt, but you're a duck! POSY. Who taught you that kiss, Jim ? 50 QUINNEYS' JIM. [With a jolly grin.'] Answers. I read an article on kissing. Posy, I never saw you look so pretty as you do to-night. POSY. Am I as pretty as Mabel Dredge ? JIM. [Scornfully.] Mabel Dredge ? Of course you are ! What on earth made you mention her ? POSY. [Half laughing, half serious.] Well, Mumsie was saying only this morning that six months ago, when I was at school, she thoughtyou and Mabel might make a match of it. [QuiN KEY'S face, just above the screen, indicates alertness, as if POSY had mentioned something of vital interest to himself. ] JIM. What nonsense! POSY. [Thoughtfully.] I expect Mabel likes you. [She eyes him attentively, but he meets her glance gallantly, love for her beam- ing upon his face.] JIM. I like her, which is lucky, as we have to work together. POSY. I wish I worked with you, Jim. JIM. [Ardently.] I wish you did. [QuiN KEY'S face has indicated a certain satisfaction at this short talk about MABEL. He looks very knowing.] QUINNEYS' 51 POSY. [Obviously teasing him.] I expect you flirted with her a teeny-weeny bit. JIM. [Tensely.'] Posy, darling, no man with eyes in his head would look at Miss Dredge when you were about. POSY. [Thoughtfully.] But I wasn't about then. JIM. Don't let's waste precious time jawing about Mabel Dredge. [Kisses her] Isn't this cosy ? POSY. Fancy if Daddy could see us now ? [JiM kisses her again.] Oh! I do love romance. I simply adore the excitement of our meeting under Daddy's very nose, in his sanctuary. Think of it! JIM. [Seriously] I'm thinking that a big row is inevitable. POSY. How like a man ! Big rows are never inevitable. I shall do what you suggest and coax Daddy. He's an awful old fuss-pot, but his bark is worse than his bite. When he gets angry he frightens poor Mumsie, but he makes me laugh inside. [QUINNEY disappears.] JIM. Perhaps I can prove to him that he needs me. 52 QUINNEYS' POSY. Prove it ? How ? JIM. I'm a hard worker and a first-class cabinet maker. I feel like tackling Mr. Quinney at once. POSY. At once ? This morning you wanted to leave things to me. What has changed you ? JIM. That's my secret. POSY. [Pouting.] I'm awfully curious. JIM. [Laughing.] You shall know all about it in good time. POSY. Oh! JIM. I'm for action. What's your little game ? POSY. [Softly, and touching his hair.] The woman's game, the waiting game. I mean to make a special study of Daddy. Why, I hardly know him. Then again, Mumsie is on our side. JIM. You haven't told her ? POSY. Of course not. But she's romantic, too, and she loves me, and she married for love a poor young man. It will be two to one. QUINNEYS' 53 JIM. As you say, you don't know the one. POSY. Are you cross ? JIM. I'm impatient. I want you to be mine. [His voice softens] Do you ever think of what it will be like when you are mine. [Kisses her.] POSY. [Whispering.] Yes. [She rises.] My heart is beating. [Laughs.] Almost loud enough for Father to hear. I feel I feel [Moves to end of stool] JIM. Yes? POSY. As if we were playing " Out pounce, Piggy ! " [Sits on stool] JIM. Out pounce, Piggy ? What's that ? POSY. It's a terrifying game we girls used to play at school. And it's played in the dark. Those who hide crouch behind furniture, and those who seek must discover them without being caught. The hiders wait till the very last moment, and then pounce! JIM. Sounds a silly game. Come a bit nearer, Posy. POSY. I'm frightened, Jim. Don't think me a horrid flirt, but, I am frightened. [Gives a little shiver^] 54 QUINNEYS' JIM. Frightened of me ? [Kneeling.] POSY. [Thinking it out, with pursed-up lips.] It is not all you, dear. I'm frightened at something greater than either of us ; it is part you, and part me, and part something else. It it pounces! The truth is ridiculous, but it just de- scribes what I feel now. JIM. [Rising.] I'm going to kiss this nonsense out of you, darling. QUINNEY. [With head over the screen] Kissin' the wrong man is a mug's game, my lass. [The lovers jump apart.] POSY. Oooooo-er! [Runs over to desk. JIM drops down L.] QUINNEY. [Striding out C. from behind the screen] I thought it likely you might make a fool of yourself ; and I haven't been disappointed. Come on, Susan. [Mas. QUINNEY appears to his R., looking very agitated.] Mother's blushing to the roots of her hair for you. Switch the lights on, ole dear ! [MRS. QUINNEY crosses to door, switches on lights and returns above desk.] POSY. I'm not a bit ashamed of myself. QUINNEYS' 55 QuiNNEY. Sorry to hear that, my lass. It fair furs my tongue to look at you. Now then, like to take it sittin' or standin'. [He rolls back his sleeves^ POSY. Take what ? QUINNEY. The dose I'm goin' to give a deceitful, disobedient, un- grateful daughter. Sharper than a serpent's tooth, you are. POSY. I'll take it standing beside Jim. [She trips across to JIM'S X., and flings her arms round JIM'S neck. QUINNEY chatters with rage.] QUINNEY. You baggage! MRS. QUINNEY. [J3y desk.] Posy! Remember what you've not got on. QUINNEY. This beats the band. Rank mutiny! MRS. QUINNEY. Only Nature, Joe. [MRS. QUINNEY pulls out chair from desk and sits.] QUINNEY. Hold yer tongue, Mother ! A nice couple ! Can you cook, Miss Independence ? POSY. Cook ? Me ? You know I can't cook. QUINNEY. Thought not. Anything of a hand with yer needle ? 56 QUINNEYS' POSY. No. QuiNNEY. [To MRS. QUINNEY.] Why didn't you learn her to use a broom ? Can she wash anything more useful than her own hands, hey ? MRS. QUINNEY. Your orders, Joe. The child was to be brought up like a little princess! QUINNEY. [Snarling.] They tell me that our royal princesses 'ave to learn such things, willy-nilly, because revolutions do happen sometimes. [Turning savagely to JIM.] Intentions honour- able, Mister Johnny-Raw ? JIM. They are. QUINNEY. Arranged the happy day, Edwin ? JIM. Not yet. QUINNEY. Ah! Waitin', maybe, for Father's blessing and a snug settlement. POSY. [Vehemently^ And why not ? Isn't it your duty to provide for me ? It's your fault, not mine, that I can't cook, or sew, or wash. [She lays her head upon JIM'S shoulder. MRS. QUINNEY nods her head solemnly.] QUINNEY. [To MRS. QUINNEY.] What a sauce! Mother, [moving to her] you go and stand between 'em. QUINNEYS' 57 [MRS. QUINNEY obeys. She whispers something to POSY.] [Half sitting on desk.] Now, miss, ain't I been a good father to you ? No quibblin', if you please ain't I been a tip-top parent ? POSY. I don't know. QUINNEY. What do you say ? POSY. I said I didn't know. QUINNEY. Well, I'm blest! 'Aven't I given you everything a girl wants ? MRS. QUINNEY. Not half, you haven't. QUINNEY. You hold your tongue, Mrs. Butt-in. POSY. I have wanted things you didn't give me. QUINNEY. Of all the ungrateful hussies ! Now, you answer straight. It'd take a month o' Sundays to tell what I've given you ; but you tell me what I've not given you. MRS. QUINNEY. Understanding. QUINNEY. Eh! E 58 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. It's pride you feel for her not love. You love old chairs, faded tapestries, china, lacquer cabinets. You don't love persons. QUINNEY. [Grinding his teeth.] What ? Say that again, old lass. I want it to soak in. MRS. QUINNEY. You go to Westminster Abbey to worship the'stone fan vaulting of the roof! QUINNEY. That's right. Makes me feel like a bird o' Paradise. [To JIM.] Do you love persons, too ? JIM. I love one little person. QUINNEY. Things worth their weight in gold don't interest you, hey f JIM. They interest me, of course. QUINNEY. Never entered your overcrowded mind, did it ? that when closing-time comes for me, my things '11 belong to my daughter ? JIM. It may have entered my mind, but I didn't^fall in love with Posy because she was your daughter. QUINNEY. How do you propose to support her, after^I've given you the sack ? QUINNEYS' 59 JIM. Mr. Tomlin wants to get me back. QuiNNEY. Sam Tomlin ? JIM. Since I left him he's tried to tempt me from you, many and many a time. QUINNEY. He, he, he ! the dirty dog ! JIM. You pay me three quid a week. I'm worth more! QUINNEY. 'Ark to Mister Pride-before-the-fall ! JIM. Mr. Tomlin is willing to give me five, not to mention a small commission on sales and purchases. QUINNEY. Is he ? I'm ashamed of being connected with such a funny swine. I'm going to talk straight to you. If you want that thankless child, take her now. JIM. [Startled] Now ? QUINNEY. [Grimly.] Now! MRS. QUINNEY. Joe! [Crossly.] He can't take her in her petticoats! [Pause.] JIM. Yes, I can. 60 QUINNEYS' POSY. Oh, Jim, you are a darling! I was never quite sure till this blessed moment. QuiNNEY. Blessed! Oh, my stars! POSY. [Turning to her father, in suppressed excitement] Father, I can't believe you mean what you say. MRS. QUINNEY. No, he's joking! You'd never turn our child out of our house at midnight ? QUINNEY. Listen. She's got to choose between that dog and me sooner or later Why not sooner, hey ? [He turns her round to his R. She sinks into chair] POSY. [As obstinate as her father] I've promised to marry Jim. I'm not afraid of poverty with Jim. QUINNEY. That'll do. You leave the room, you ! At once ! POSY. [Going C. ; excitedly] You said the house just now. I'm as serious as you are. Say it once more. I'm to choose between Jim and you, am I ? QUINNEY. By gum ! Yes yes yes ! ! POSY. [In a soft, sweet voice] And you [turns to JIM] you want me, Jim ? QUINNEYS' 61 JIM. Of course I want you. POSY. [Tremulously^] Father I I [Pulls herself together. ] Won't you give us a little time ? QUINNEY. [Chattering with rage.] Time ? It's a good smackin' you need! Go to bed! At once! [For an instant father and daughter stare into each other's faces. Neither flinches. Then, after glancing round slowly, POSY moves with dignity to the door and pauses^ POSY. [Opens door.] Father, would you turn me out of your house if I refuse to give up the man I love ? QUINNEY. [Inexorably^] He's no class. [JiM stands L.] [PosY looks steadily at him, sighs, and goes out silently, softly closing the door behind her. JIM turns away, and sits on stool] MRS. QUINNEY. [Rising ; trembling] If you do this cruel thing, Joe QUINNEY. That's right ! [Moving down C. a little^] Hit a man when he's down. MRS. QUINNEY. Down ? It's up you are, Joe Quinney, tens o' thousands o' feet above all common sense and common decency. It is things things THINGS you care for. And our Posy my Posy, bless her ! is right to prefer persons to the false gods which you've set up and worshipped yes, worshipped / 62 QUINNEYS' There's only one person in all the wide world you care for, and that's yourself yourself! [She flings herself on to a chair by table, and buries her head in a paroxysm of grief and distress.} QuiNNEY. [Confounded} Susan ! Susan ! MRS. QUINNEY. [Sobbing.] Oh! Oh! QUINNEY. [Going to her ; in a different voice} Stop it, old dear ! stop it! I do care about you, Susie ; I do, indeed. Worked for you, I have, sweated blood for you. Made a lady of yer, too. Couldn't worry along without you. And you know it. Darby and Joan ! What ? Oh, bung it ! Gawd bless my soul ! [shakes her shoulders} you'll melt away like, if you ain't careful. Sue, s'elp me, you come first. MRS. QUINNEY. [Lifting her head with disconcerting suddenness} Do I ? Sure ? [She speaks with poignant intensity} QUINNEY. [Taking her hand and patting it} Why, of course! Nice old cup o' tea, you are, to doubt it. MRS. QUINNEY. [Sharply} You'd miss me, if I went, Joe ? QUINNEY. [With feeling} Miss you ? Haven't I said time and time again that I hoped as how I'd go first ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Doubtfully} You have said so, Joe, but QUINNEYS' 63 QUINNEY. Meant it too. Man o' my word, I am ! MRS. QUINNEY. [Rising.] Man o' your word ! And you threaten to turn your own flesh and blood into the street ? QUINNEY. [Obstinately.] Young Posy needn't leave us, unless she wants to. More I'll keep on Jim. More, too I'll sweeten his salary to please you. But our Posy ain't for the likes of him. He's no class, I say. JIM. [Coming forward.] Perhaps not! Were you for your wife ? QUINNEY. Eh ! what's that ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Rising.] I've something to say QUINNEY. Well, say it, love! MRS. QUINNEY. [Decisively.] If Posy leaves your house, I go with her. If she never returns to it, I shall never return to it. Never! QUINNEY. The pore lass has gone potty! MRS. QUINNEY. I was happy with you when we lived in a cottage in York. I've been very unhappy in this big house, filled with things which have come between us. 64 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. Unhappy ! here ! Lord love you ! you'll complain of the Better Land when you get there. [ Turns to JIM.] Now, my lad JIM. I've been courting Posy for two months. QUINNEY. You'll have the rest of your life to regret it. JIM. Can I speak to you alone, sir ? QUINNEY. Alone ! You hear that, Susie ? MRS. QUINNEY. Yes, I hear him. I'll go to Posy. [Goes R.] QUINNEY. [Derisively.] Looks, by gum, as if he wasn't in such a hurry to take the young lady in her petticoat ! I'll see you again, Susan, after I've downed this puppy and rubbed his nose in his own foolishness and insolence. MRS. QUINNEY. [Going to door and pausing.] If I might pass the remark, Joe, I should say : Don't you get too excited, because you may overstrain yourself. [She goes out and slightly slams the door.] QUINNEY. [Mopping his forehead and speaking rather to himself than to JIM.] When I think of what I've done for them two thankless females! [Sits.] QUINNEYS' 65 JIM. [As QUINNEY sits at his desk.] What have you done ? QuiNNEY. Slaved for 'em for twenty years ; worked myself to bone ! Thanks to me they've been able to take it easy all the time. Enough o' that ! What you got to say to me alone ? JIM. What have you against me, Mr. Quinney ? QUINNEY. You're after my things. I know it. A JIM. [Earnestly^ I am not. QUINNEY. [Curtly.] Have you ought else to say ? JIM. [Respectfully.] Yes ; I can do you a service. QUINNEY. A service ? You ? JIM. Those chairs QUINNEY. Chairs ? What chairs ? JIM. The chairs you bought at Christopher's for nine hundred guineas, and sold to-day for eleven. QUINNEY. [Astounded] What about 'em ? 66 QUINNEYS' JIM. [Quietly.] They're not genuine. QuiNNEY. [Staring and gasping.] What do you say ? JIM. Beats me how you were taken in. QUINNEY. [Fuming.] Taken in ? You have the sauce to tell me that your judgment is better than mine. JIM. About these chairs yes. QUINNEY. [After a pause] I told you to case 'em. JIM. They are cased ah 1 but one. QUINNEY. Fetch it! Quick! [JiM goes. QUINNEY takes a turn up and down the room. Obviously he is much perturbed. JIM comes back with the chair, which he places below desk, R. QUINNEY turns up light on desk, polishes a magnifying glass, and sits. He stares at the chair first] [Growling.] It's all right a beauty! JIM. It's half and half. Some dealer was lucky enough to get hold of four genuine chairs, much battered. He had the four turned into eight, using old mahogany. QUINNEYS' 67 QUINNEY. [Obstinately.] Don't believe it! JIM. [Lifting chair.] You examine that leg which is Chippen- dale's and then this. [Business. QUINNEY makes a careful examination.] QUINNEY. [Looking at JIM.] If this chair has been tampered with, it's the best bit of work I've ever seen in my life. JIM. Look at that ribbon work. QUINNEY. [Rising.] By gum! You're right. It's a fake. And I loathe fakes. [Kicks the chair.] Take it away. JIM. Yes, sir. Shall I come back ? QUINNEY. [Between his teeth] No. I'm on to you, young feller. You've made up your mind to use this precious information. You're trying to blackmail me. JIM. [Indignantly] I am not. QUINNEY. [With a sneer, very knowingly] Oh yes, you are. Not another word. Scoot! [He points authoritatively to the door] JIM. [Slightly dazed] Without settling anything ? 68 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. Don't worry! You shall be settled to-morrow. JIM. [Picking up the chair.] Good-night, sir. [ JIM goes out, closing the door.] QUINNEY. Good night. Pschah ! [QUINNEY goes behind the lacquer screen, where there is a small cupboard, and comes back carrying a cut-glass decanter, half full of sherry, and sherry glasses. He places these upon the table, muttering to himself. Then he fills a glass with sherry, and drinks it, after holding it up to the light. He smacks his lips approvingly. He then stares fixedly at one of the objects on his desk, holding it first near to his eyes, and then far away, frowning and growling. The growling deepens in tone, as, obviously, the test of eyesight convinces him that he cannot see as clearly as he did.] [C.] Rotten, rotten! [He hesitates, thinking hard, indicating by his expression great mental distress and exasperation. He picks up photo of POSY.] [Savagely^ Baggage! [Slams down photo] [He walks to the door, leading to the corridor, and listens. Then he opens it, stands on the threshold, and calls] Susan! Susan! Come you down! MRS. QUINNEY. [Upstairs] Coming! [QUINNEY returns to his desk and sits, but his expression changes when MRS. QUINNEY enters, dressed to go out, QUINNEYS' 69 carrying a small satchel. He stares at her as she stands upon the threshold] QuiNNEY. What's the meaning of this 'ere ? [MRS. QUINNEY shrugs her shoulders and lifts her eye- brows^] Are you crazy ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Cheerfully] No. Posy will be ready in a minute. [She approaches.] QUINNEY. What for ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Calmly.] To leave your house. She's a girl of spirit. I don't blame her. QUINNEY. Don't you ? [Rises.] Sit down a moment. [Pours out sherry.] Have a glass of sherry ? [She shakes her head] Are you bluffing ? MRS. QUINNEY. [In deadly earnest] No. QUINNEY. [After tossing off his glass] Are you thinkin' o' leavin' yer husband ? MRS. QUINNEY. [In the same obstinate, monotonous voice] I'm leaving a crool, unnatural father. yo QUINNEYS' [QuiNNEY seizes the empty glass and hurls it into the fireplace] Do that to her dear heart, you would ! [For answer, he picks up another glass and hurls that into the fireplace] Another two shillings gone! QUINNEY. A sovereign ! Old Bristol glass ! Lovely stuff ! MRS. QUINNEY. There you go again ! QUINNEY. Ho! You think I care about money ? MRS. QUINNEY. I know you do. QUINNEY. [Bringing forward stool] Who doesn't ? You say I worship things ? [She nods] Well, things have been a means to an end with me. Never mind that ! If you don't know your luck in having me for a husband it's too late to learn you now. I want to talk about something else. [Sz'te.] Take off your hat, you old spoof-sticks, and sit down. [Moves chair] MRS. QUINNEY. [Compressing her lips] No. QUINNEY. Have it your own way. [Impressively] This 'ere James is a bad lad. He's threatening me. MRS. QUINNEY. [Sitting quickly] Threatening you ? What about ? QUINNEYS' 71 QUINNEY. Never you mind! He isn't going to down me that way. MRS. QUINNEY. The pore young fellow is fighting for our Posy. QUINNEY. He's fightin' and hittin' below the belt, too for things, things! These things. [Points.] [Enter POSY, R. She has put on a long coat. She wears a becoming hat and gloves. She also carries a small satchel, enough to hold night-gear '.] POSY. I'm ready, Mumsie. [As she speaks QUINNEY rises, glaring at her.] QUINNEY. [Angrily] More bluff! hey? Come off it! POSY. We are not bluffing, Father. MRS. QUINNEY. Far from it. QUINNEY. Ho! Goin' to take the road at midnight. May I ask where you propose to go ? MRS. QUINNEY. To my sister, Alice Tomlin. QUINNEY. Going to wake that pore soul up in the^middle o' the night? 72 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. She's a woman; she'll understand. [Takes POSY'S hand.] You'd better give in, Joe. [Rises.] QUINNEY. [Ironically] Do I look like it ? Look ye here, you two you think you've a strangle hold on me. So does James. But the whole lot of you is bluffing, and I'm not to be flim- flammed that way. If you've made up your mind to leave my house in the middle o' the night, unless I give in, why, leave it. [Obviously he still believes that the two women are bluffing. 'They stare at each other in silence^ POSY. Come, Mumsie. [She goes out. MRS. QUINNEY remains for a moment ; she makes an imploring gesture ; her voice quavers^] MRS. QUINNEY. You won't give in ? QUINNEY. Never ! [MRS. QUINNEY follows out POSY ; she leaves the door wide open. The steps of the two ladies are plainly heard descending the parquet stairs. QUINNEY moves nearer to the door. His expression indicates that he is still incredulous. The sound of bolts being shot back will be audible to the audience. QUINNEY'S face grows serious. Then the front door slams. QUINNEY closes the sanctuary door and returns to his desk. Obviously he is confounded. He picks up the decanter with the intention of putting it away, and is crossing to the QUINNEYS' 73 cupboard, when he pauses, listening intently. Noise- lessly he puts down the decanter, and steals on tip-toe to the door, which he opens suddenly. MABEL DREDGE almost tumbles in. She is wearing a long coat put on over her nightgown. Her face is very pale.] MABEL. [Gasping.] You, Mr. Quinney! QuiNNEY. Who did you expect to find in my room ? The Man in the Moon ? What have you been doin' outside there ? MABEL. Indeed, indeed, I meant no harm, sir. I was badly frightened. I woke up suddenly; I heard a noise. I I QUINNEY. [In a kinder tone.] Teh! Teh! Sit down. You are upset, and no mistake! [MABEL sinks on to the stool. QUINNEY fetches a glass of wine] Sup you that, my lass ! It's sherry wine. Tremblin' like a bloomin' jelly, you are! MABEL. [Drinking the wine.] Thank you, thank you ! QUINNEY. [Behind her] Tell us all about it. MABEL. I'm a very light sleeper, sir ; and lately I've not been sleeping as well as usual. QUINNEY. Why not ? F 74 QUINNEYS' MABEL. [Nervously.] 1 simply haven't. QuiNNEY. Nothing to be scared about now. You heard noises, hey ? MABEL. [Simply.] I thought that burglars might have broken into the house. [QUINNEY nods.] James sleeps in the basement, and [QUINNEY nods again.] If they got in they'd murder James first, wouldn't they ? QUINNEY. [Forgetting himself.] I hope they would. I mean, my dear, I'd sooner 'twas him than me. [Alertly.] And so, thinkin' that James might be welterin' in his gore, you slipped down to see ? MABEL. Ye-es. [She avoids QUINNEY'S keen glance, and fidgets a little with her hands.] QUINNEY. Rare plucked 'un you are, I do declare. James ought to feel honoured. Fine feller, James, isn't he ? MABEL. [Constrained.] Ye-es. [Rising] I'll go back to bed now, Mr. Quinney. QUINNEY. No hurry. [Gently pressing her to sit.] You ain't fit to walk up two flights o' stairs yet. Tell me, my lass when you woke up and heard voices what did you do ? [He sits.] MABEL. I got up. QUINNEYS' 75 QuiNNEY. Yes. MABEL. And went on to the landing [QUINNEY nods, never taking his sharp eyes from her face.~\ Then I went to Miss Posy's room, which is next mine. QUINNEY. [More alert than ever.] Ho ! MABEL. I tapped at her door, although it was not quite shut. QUINNEY. [Encouragingly.] Very proper. MABEL. I ventured to go in because a light was burning. QUINNEY. Light left burning ? Just like her! [Turns out lamp on desk.] You ventured to go in, hey ? And she wasn't there ? MABEL. She wasn't there. QUINNEY. [Mellifluously.] So you just slipped downstairs to see where she was um ? MABEL. [With unmistakable defiance^ Was there any harm in that ? QUINNEY. [Genially.] Not a bit. Natural curiosity. You slipped downstairs, saw a light under that door, and took for granted that Posy was in here ? 76 QUINNEYS' MABEL. Ye-es. QuiNNEY. [Leaning forward and lifting a menacing forefinger."] Now, my lass, tell me this : why were you so flabbergasted at seeing me ? MABEL. [Dominated ; hesitating.] I I didn't expect to see you. QUINNEY. Just so. Nought like the truth. Who did you expect to find in this room, at this time o' night, with my daughter ? MABEL. [Falteringly.] Nobody. QUINNEY. [Judicially.] My lass, that's a fib. [She starts] Keep your hair on! You expected to find Posy, because she wasn't in her room. But you didn't expect to find her -alone, hey ? MABEL. [Wincing.] I don't know what I expected. QUINNEY. Yes, you do. You expected to find James here. [Slight pause.] Good! You don't deny it ? MABEL. [Breaking down] I I Forgive me, sir! I couldn't Jhelp it. I I was mad, but James James [Sobs] QUINNEYS' 77 QuiNNEY. [Kindly, when she recovers her self. ~\ Come, come ; I won't be hard on you, if you're frank with me. I want to be your friend. I'm a rare guesser, I am always was. And I've been young myself. Just atween ourselves you like that fine young feller ? MABEL. [Dabbing at her eyes.] I can't help it. QUINNEY. Teh ! tch ! Nothing to cry about. And James likes you, I'll be bound. MABEL. [Mournfully.] He did like me. QUINNEY. [Soothingly] And you've been a bit jealous of my Posy ? MABEL. Ye-es. QUINNEY. Good! Everything that's happened to-night can be easily explained. [Rises. Puts desk chair straight] Mrs. Quinney has gone to Mrs. Tomlin in the Fulham Road, and taken Posy with her. MABEL. [Contritely] I've been a fool, sir. Forgive me. [Rises.] QUINNEY. That's all right. [Putting stool back] Come here, my lass. [She turns and approaches him obediently ; he takes her left hand and looks at it. When he speaks, his voice is full of kindness] You said just now that James used to like you. 78 QUINNEYS' MABEL. [Almost inaudibly.] Yes. QuiNNEY. Is that why you have not been sleeping sound o' nights ? MABEL. I have been very unhappy. QUINNEY. [Intensely.] Has ought passed between you and James ? [She gazes at him entreatingly, unable to speak. She sighs. She opens her mouth to speak and doses it, turning away her head. QUINNEY nods. When he speaks, his voice is low and full of feeling.] See! I'm going to tell you something. [She nods, intelli- gently] I've been through Hell to-night. You can help me. [Takes her hand.] This is a nice, capable little hand. Would you like James to put a wedding ring on ? MABEL. [With constraint.] Yes. QUINNEY. You've been lying awake o' nights, hopin' that he would, may be ? MABEL. [With a sigh.] That I have. QUINNEY. Why has James backed off ? MABEL. [Intensely] Because he's ambitious, and I'm poor. QUINNEYS' 79 QuiNNEY. I thought so ! Dessay he made you think that he would marry you ? MABEL. [Furtively.] Yes ; he did, he did! QUINNEY. Good! Now, you do just what I tell you. Go upstairs and put your things on. MABEL. [Startled.] Whatever for ? QUINNEY. No back chat! Do as I tell you. It will pay you, my lass, to obey me. MABEL. [With decision^ All right! I will. [She goes. QUINNEY stands C., chuckling to himself^] QUINNEY. We'll take a trip, you and I, down the Fulham Road. I'll learn that dog James. [Laughs.] By gum! CURTAIN FALLS ACT III SCENE : Tomlin's dining-room, dimly lighted. TIME : Half an hour later. Curtain discloses Tomlin half asleep in an arm-chair. He is a short, pudgy, clean-shaven man. The dining-room has a mid-Victorian air and appearance. Upon the red, flock papered walls hang pictures heavily framed. Win- dows, with green curtains, are R. Between them a bronze female statue on a pedestal. Door, L.C., leads to passage and front door. Fireplace, L. Arm-chairs on each side of hearth-rug. To the left of door is a dinner waggon with " Tantalus " case. To the right of door is a heavy mahogany sideboard, garnished by a rococo silver salver and two candelabra. The big dining-room table is of mahogany, with three chairs on each side and chairs at each end. The right half of the table is spread with a white cloth upon which are the remains of a solid supper, a ham in cut, cheese, butter, bread, cruets, etc. Upon the left half of the table is a tray with decanter of port wine and glasses, and box of cigarettes. A bell is heard, and a knock at the door. TOMLIN sits up. Another knock is heard. TOMLIN looks at his watch and rises, yawning. He switches on the light near the door and goes out, leaving the door open. Bell again. 80 QUINNEYS' 8r TOMLIN. [Off.] Who is it ? What is it ? Who's there ? MRS. QUINNEY. [O//.] You let me in, Sam Tomlin. TOMLIN. [Off.] Susan ? Why what the ? Wait a minute!' Damn the chain! [Rattle of chain.] There! Well, a nice time o' night to Come in! Go quietly! [MRS. QUINNEY enters, followed by TOMLIN. POSY follows with JIM. He remains up stage, R. of door.] MRS. QUINNEY. [C., at head of table.] You may well wonder, Sam Tomlin. TOMLIN. [Testily.] Sit down, Susan. [Moving L. of arm-chair and going round it to C. of fireplace^] The wife's upstairs. MRS. QUINNEY. [Excitedly, undoing her bonnet strings^ I've come to my own sister. You ask her to step down. POSY. Is that necessary, Mummy ? TOMLIN. What's up ? MRS. QUINNEY. Posy and me have been turned out. [Sits in chair at head of table, L.] TOMLIN. [Confounded.] Turned out ? MRS. QUINNEY. Out of my house at midnight. {Bursts into tears.] $2 QUINNEYS' POSY. [Runs across to her, kissing her] Cheer up, Mother! I'll * explain. [To TOMLIN.] I love Jim, and he loves me. [JiM nods] Father found it out. He invited me to choose between Jim and himself. And I took Jim. [She goes to JIM.] MRS. QUINNEY. And I told Joe that he must choose between his sticks and stones and me. And he took his [sobs] sticks and stones. TOMLIN. Well, I'm damned! [In front of fire.] JIM. [Respectfully.] Mr. Tomlin TOMLIN. Eh? JIM. If Mrs. Quinney and Posy might go to bed we could have a talk. MRS. QUINNEY. [Rises and crosses to TOMLIN.] Take me to Alice. You ain't going to refuse me shelter ? TOMLIN. Teh! tch! Of course not. Come up with me. I'll help yer. MRS. QUINNEY. [Walking up] I never felt so flustered in all my life. [She goes out with TOMLIN. POSY is following her.] JIM. Posy? POSY. [Turning] Yes ? Jim, dear, Pm flustered. QUINNEYS' 83 JIM. You leave everything to me. POSY. [Decidedly,] Uncle will side with Father. JIM. [Smiling.'] I don't think so. Now, do as I advise; Nip up after your mother. POSY. [Curiously.] I want to hear what you say to Uncle Sam. JIM. You shall later. [She moves from him, regarding him intently, slightly pouting. JIM lights a cigarette from box in tray.] POSY. Whatever are you doing ? JIM. Soothing my nerves. POSY. Uncle won't like it, Jim. Isn't it rather cheeky ? JIM. [With feeling] Posy darling. You trust me ! Give me one more kiss, you sweet thing, and now pop off! [He approaches her, kisses her, and leads her to the door. She goes. JIM returns to the 2nd chair, centre of the stage. He is blowing some circles of smoke, when TOMLIN fusses in] TOMLIN. [Staring at the young man] Hullo! Making yourself at home, eh ? 84 QUINNEYS' JIM. [Coolly.] Why not ? [He sits] TOMLIN. You've a nerve! JIM. I hope so. I need it. [TOMLIN -pours himself out a glass of port. JIM, with a. smile, takes it up] JIM. Thanks! TOMLIN. [Amazed] Oh! What! Don't mind me! Well go ahead! JIM. I'll give you the facts in tabloid form. I'm going to marry Posy Quinney. TOMLIN. [Derisively] Anything else to tell me. [Moving away to his arm-chair] JIM. Yes. [Calmly] I identified some chairs to-day. TOMLIN. [Blusterously ] What chairs ? [Arrested] JIM. The chairs bought at Christopher's by Mr. Quinney for nine hundred guineas. TOMLIN. What about 'em ? [Coming back] I sent a customer to Mr. Quinney to buy those chairs. JIM. Smart work! Mr. Hunsaker bought 'em. QUINNEYS' 85 TOMLIN. Glad to hear it well ? JIM. [Slowly.'] When I was working for you, Mr. Tomlin, those chairs passed through your hands. TOMLIN. [Quickly.] You've told Quinney that ? JIM. Not yet. [Smiling.] [TOMLIN mops his forehead, and sits at L. head of tabled] You know, sir, and / know that those chairs are not genuine specimens, but they were sold as such at Christopher's. TOMLIN. Quinney bought 'em as such ? JIM. He did. [TOMLIN chuckles^] His eyesight is failing, and he hates to wear specs. TOMLIN. [Roughly^ What's this got to do with me ? JIM. [Sweetly^ Nothing, unless [Drinks.] TOMLIN. [Hoarsely.] Unless ? [He drinks.] JIM. [Slowly.] Unless it could be proved that you put those chairs up at Christopher's under an assumed name. That would be awkward, wouldn't it ? TOMLIN. [Choking.] You're a very clever young feller, ain't you ? 86 QUINNEYS' JIM. My eyesight is not failing. TOMLIN. [Sullenly.] Posy might do worse. JIM. [Derisively.] Oh, thank you, Mr. Tomlin. TOMLIN. I suppose the chairs are going to America. JIM. I cased them this afternoon, but TOMLIN. Ah! JIM. I left one out to show to Mr. Quinney. TOMLIN. And you've shown it ? JIM. I have. He knows by now that he's been badly had by some one. TOMLIN. You take my tip, young man. This ain't your business. JIM. You advise me to become a party to a fraud ? TOMLIN. I say it ain't your business. JIM. [Quietly.] I am going to be quite frank with you, Mr. Tomlin. I left your employment for two reasons. You underpaid me, and your methods of doing business were not quite straight. QUINNEYS' 87 TOMLIN. How dare you ? [Rising.] JIM. Your methods of doing business were not quite straight. I went to Mr. Quinney because I heard that he was the most honest dealer in London. [TOMLIN sinks into his chair.] TOMLIN. What a tale! JIM. A true one, I believe, but this will test him. He could afford to lose the money, but his reputation as an expert is at stake. TOMLIN. Yes, it is. JIM. And I want Posy. TOMLIN. What else ? JIM. I love your niece for herself. And for her sake, not mine, I hope to win her father's consent. [JiM drinks. TOMLIN takes a turn up and down.] I'm expecting Mr. Quinney. [He lights another cigarette^ TOMLIN. [Stopping and turning] What ? JIM. [With confidence.] He'll be here in a minute or two. Very impulsive man! Very impatient! He can't sleep on this. 88 QUINNEYS' TOMLIN. Not likely ! You'll make him a useful son-in-law. [Nods again, more and more impressed^ JIM. [With slight conciliation^ Thank you again, sir. [Sound of a taxi is heard.] Ah ! I thought so. TOMLIN. [Cornered.] Look ye here, my lad, it's my honest opinion you'd be an ornament to any family. [Sell and loud knock] JIM. It's pleasant to hear that. [Rises.] Shall I open the door ? TOMLIN. No. I will. [He goes out. JIM rises and crosses to the hearthrug. TOMLIN enters^ followed by QUINNEY.] QuiNNEY. [Glaring at JIM.] You here ? JIM. [Politely^ I escorted the ladies, sir. QUINNEY. You scoot! [Points to door.] JIM. No ; I think I'll remain. [Glances at TOMLIN.] TOMLIN. [Putting tray of drinks on sideboard.] Let the young feller stay, Joe. [He walks to R. of table] QUINNEYS' 89 QuiNNEY. The sight of 'im makes me sick. [Fiercely.] Is it true, Tom, that you tried to tempt this dog back to your service ? TOMLIN. Does he say that I did ? QUINNEY. [Trenchantly.] He does. TOMLIN. [Arranging supper things tidily] In a chaffing way, so to speak, I did remark to the lad : " If ever Mr. Quinney has no further use for you, come back to me, and I'll try to keep you out of the workhouse." QUINNEY. [Scornfully] Five quid a week, and a commission upon sales and purchases would do that nicely, hey ? TOMLIN. [Moving to corner of table, R] You are not taking a jest seriously ? QUINNEY. I'm taking James seriously. When did you offer him five quid a week ? [TOMLIN upsets salt] TOMLIN. There now, I've upset the salt! [Business] QUINNEY. Stop fidgetting! When did you offer him five quid a week ? TOMLIN. Um ! Some five months ago. JIM. Six. G 90 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. [Sharply.] Sure it was before my Posy came back from school ? [Coming below L. head of table.] TOMLIN. I think so. JIM. It was. QUINNEY. [Rubbing his hands.] Good! [Sits on table, L. hand corner] Why didn't you take a rise and leave me ? JIM. I preferred to remain with you. QUINNEY. Why ? Cash talks to such as you. TOMLIN. Teh ! tch ! Go easy with him, Joe. [Sits R. head of table] QUINNEY. Has he told that he wants to marry my Posy ? [TOMLIN nods] And that she wants to marry him ? [TOMLIN nods again.] The baggage ain't the judge of quality that he is, by gum ! And our Susie backs 'em up. That tears it eh ? TOMLIN. It er complicates things. If your girl is dead set on him JIM. She is. QUINNEY. [Fiercely] I refuse my consent, not because James is my servant, but because he's after my things. He's clever enough to have bluffed two innercent females into believin' that he wants my Posy without 'em. Is that cheese ? QUINNEYS' 91 TOMLIN. Yes. QuiNNEY. Give it over here. [TOMLIN pushes over cheese, and then rises and goes to the sideboard] It'll take, may be, the taste o' this out of my mouth. [Cuts some cheese viciously] Bluffed two simple women, he has! Well, I've called his bluff. I've told him that he can take Posy, march her out of my house as she is, and that I'll leave my collection to the nation. [Eats.] TOMLIN. Ho! QUINNEY. I might have downed him, but, by gum! the old lady butted in. Swore solemn she'd leave me if I turned Posy out. I think the world of Susie, but she's as obstinate as I am. Without another word, they bolted here. And I've followed 'em. I'm going to have this out here and now. TOMLIN. [Thickly.] I ain't feeling myself to-night. Ever suffer from indigestion ? QUINNEY. Never ! TOMLIN. [Gloomily] I do. Port, even the best, on top o' bubbly, is punishing after fifty. QUINNEY. Pull yourself together, old man. [To JIM.] Now, James, sail in and tell Mr. Tomlin how you're tryin' to blackmail me. Don't waste my time, or his, or your own. [Sits L head of table] 92 QUINNEYS' JIM. [Easily.] I can support a wife. [Humorously.] I'm not quite in a financial position to support two ladies. TOMLIN. Two ladies ? JIM. [Humorously^ If Posy is turned out, Mrs. Quinney goes with her. [Sits.] TOMLIN. [Rising. To QUINNEY.] Whatever does all this mean, Joe? QUINNEY. [Savagely.] It means, Sam, that I shall down this up- start. JIM. You can't. Excuse plain-speaking, sir! QUINNEY. [Rising.] I like it. I was weaned on it. My pore father damned me before I was born. JIM. [Pleasantly.] I shall fight for Posy for all I'm worth. QUINNEY. [With a sneer.] And what are you worth, Mr. Rocker- feller ? JIM. I must refer you to others, sir. [TOMLIN, during this sparring, has become more and more uneasy, and has moved round table, R.] TOMLIN. [Innocently.] Has this young man any sort of hold on you, Joe ? QUINNEYS' 93 QuiNNEY. [Explosively.] Them damned Christopher chairs are fakes. TOMLIN. But you bought 'em believin' 'em to be the goods ? QUINNEY. [Moodily.] And sold 'em believin' 'em to be the goods. Eyesight's rotten ! TOMLIN. Dear! dear! QUINNEY. [Savagely.] I'm sorry for myself, but I'm sorrier for the dirty dog that put 'em up for sale. I'll hunt him down. TOMLIN. [Nervously.] It looks to me as if James could rob you of a hard-earned reputation. JIM. I don't want to do that. TOMLIN. [Persuasively.] Posy might do worse. She might have taken a fancy to a fool. QUINNEY. [Furious.] That'll do. You're on his side. Well, I defy the lot of you. Fetch Susan and Posy! TOMLIN. They're in bed by this time. QUINNEY. I don't care a dam! You fetch 'em down, Sam! [TOMLIN sits R. head of table.] You won't ? Then I will ! [He goes to the door.] Susan ! Susan! [Turning] She can hear me right enough. Su san ! [Goes off] 94 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. [Off] That you callin', Joe ? QUINNEY. [Off,] Who did yer think it was ? The Archbishop o' Canterbury ? Or the First Lord o' the Admiralty ? Come you down with young Posy ! TOMLIN. [As QUINNEY stumps back.] Is that the way you talk to an obstinate female ? QUINNEY. Yes, it is. Lord save us from foolish questions ! TOMLIN. [Heavily] Better surrender, Joe ! QUINNEY. You go to blazes ! TOMLIN. [Significantly.] Newspapers could make a lot o' copy out of this! [Sighs deeply.] [Enter MRS. QUINNEY, followed by POSY. They have evidently been talking upstairs. MRS. QUINNEY has removed her bonnet ; POSY is without her hat. They enter with a certain air of defiance. POSY carries a high head. MRS. QUIN NEY walks to a chair and sinks into it.] QUINNEY. You ain't gone to bed, then! MRS. QUINNEY. We've been talking things over with Alice. She feels as J do. She married a pore young man, as I did. QUINNEY. You made a better bargain, old dear. QUINNEYS' 95 MRS. QUINNEY. What do you want, Joe ? QUINNEY. [Kindly.] I daresay I was a bit hasty just now. I want you, Susie ; and I want my own little lass. Come home with me. We'll talk things over more quietly to-morrow. MRS. QUINNEY. It is to-morrow. QUINNEY. [Even more kindly .] Come you home, dearie! MRS. QUINNEY. [Tremulously] If you'll take back what you've said about James, I will. QUINNEY. Sorry ! Can't do that ! [Moving away L.C. towards fireplace.] MRS. QUINNEY. Then I shall stay here. [Tearfully.] TOMLIN. [Unctuously.] Susan, may I say a few words ? [PosY sits near JIM.] MRS. QUINNEY. [Tartly] Provided they be few, you may, Sam Tomlin. QUINNEY. 'Ark to Mrs. Don't-care-a-damn! TOMLIN. [Sz'fcy.] Is it possible that you contemplate leaving the best and kindest husband in the world ? QUINNEY. Good! You listen to Sam, if you won't to me. 96 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. I've listened patiently to you, Joe, for more than thirty years. QUINNEY. Anything be'ind that statement ? MRS. QUINNEY. Only this. It's about time that I did a bit of talking, and that you did the listening. QUINNEY. Been bottling things up, have ye ? MRS. QUINNEY. Yes ; I have. QUINNEY. [L.C] Then you uncork yourself, old dear. I'll do the listening, eh ? But before you sail in, I want to impress this on your female mind. James 'ere is tryin' to blackmail me. JIM. No! [PosY rises.] MRS. QUINNEY. Blackmail ? [Helplessly] What does that mean ? QUINNEY. He thinks mind you, I differ from him that he can hurt me in my business. MRS. QUINNEY. Gracious! How ? QUINNEY. Never you mind how. JIM. I want to help Mr. Quinney in his business. QUINNEYS' 97 POSY. [Simply.] But, Father, how can James hurt you ? QuiNNEY. [Irritably.'] It don't concern you, missie. MRS. QUINNEY. Blackmail ? Sounds nasty! QUINNEY. [Nodding] Threats. MRS. QUINNEY. What does he threaten ? QUINNEY. [Obstinately] Ask him. [Sitting on arm of chair down L] POSY. [Warmly] I don't believe it ! MRS. QUINNEY. Nor do I. [She collects herself for an immense effort] Joe, you force me to choose between my own child and you. I ain't got your brains ; but Posy wants me more than you do. Let me finish. It's bitter aloes to me, but sticks and stones are more to you than flesh and blood. I've swallowed the gall of that tor my dear child's sake.^ You can fall down and worship graven images and I can't. You used to love me. QUINNEY. Used ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Sorrowfully] Between me and you that's over and done with. QUINNEY. No ; it isn't. Tell me what more I can do ? 98 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. [Promptly.] Give your consent to our Posy marrying the man of her choice, not yours. QUINNEY. No! [Rises; goes L.] MRS. QUINNEY. Anything against his moral character ? QUINNEY. That's as may be. [Sits in chair below fireplace.] MRS. QUINNEY. He's pore in this world's goods. POSY. [Proudly.] Yes. But in morals a millionaire. QUINNEY. As a moral millionaire, he's [rising] bust! POSY. What ? [Rises.] QUINNEY. [C. To JIM.] I suppose you never deceived a pore girl before you flim-flammed our Posy ? JIM. I have not deceived anybody. [QUINNEY goes up C.] MRS. QUINNEY. [Emotionally.] He couldn't. QUINNEY. If you'll kindly excuse me, I'll step out for a moment. I want to fetch somebody what I left in a taxi-cab. [He goes out, slouiy.] QUINNEYS' 99 MRS. QUINNEY. [Rising and walking down C. to R.] Mercy me! What- ever is he up to now, I wonder ! Do you know, Sam Tomlin? TOMLIN. [Sententiously.] All's fair in love and war. MRS. QUINNEY. Joe deceived his father about me. Yes, he did. This is a judgment on him. [Sits.] [QUINNEY comes back, followed by MABEL DREDGE.] MRS. QUINNEY. Lor'! Miss Dredge! POSY. [Rising."] Mabel ? QUINNEY. [Taking her hand.] Yes ; my friend, Mabel Dredge. MRS. QUINNEY. Mercy on us ! What has Miss Dredge to do with this ? QUINNEY. You wait and see, Mrs. Asquith. [To JIM.] All your trumps on the table, James ? JIM. Some of them. [Shrugs his shoulders.] QUINNEY. [To MABEL.] Now, Mabel, you speak up. Tell the truth, my lass. MABEL. [Confused.] I I [Looks imploringly at JIM, who is staring at POSY.] QUINNEY. [Encouragingly.] Give it to 'em straight, my girl. ioo QUINNEYS' MABEL. [Falteringly.] I c-c-can't. [She sits on chair head of table, L] QuiNNEY. [Patting her hand.] Then I'll do it for you. Posy ? POSY. Yes, Father ? QUINNEY. You're an honest lass. POSY. I hope so. QUINNEY. Are you ? But yer grandfather did have a terrible hankerin' after other folks' possessions, and there may be the same taint in you. MRS. QUINNEY. No, there isn't. QUINNEY. Good ! Now, Posy, do you want to steal something that belongs to another young woman ? POSY. [Coming C. Hastily] Of course not! What do you mean ? QUINNEY. [Quietly, with true feeling] Mabel here belongs to James. JIM. [Rising.] Who says so ? QUINNEY. [Pulling POSY to his L] Do you dare to deny that you made love to this young woman ? QUINNEYS' 101 JIM. Yes, I do. [Calmly.] Of course, I paid Miss Dredge some friendly attention. QuiNNEY. Friendly attention ? Nothing more, hey ? JIM. Nothing. QUINNEY. I don't love liars, but if I did, I could hug you, my lad! JIM. Does Miss Dredge say that I paid her anything more than attention ? QUINNEY. [Scornfully.] Not her! Evidently you ain't the payin' kind. Took what you could get, and gave nothing in return. That's you ! JIM. [With emphasis.] I have a great respect for Miss Dredge, but I cannot understand why she is here. QUINNEY. Because I am going to see that she has her rights, such as they are. POSY. [Excitedly.] Jim, I can't stand this! Has Miss Dredge any claim on you ? JIM. None. POSY. [Fervently.] I knew it! MRS. QUINNEY. [Obstinately.] So did I ! 102 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. [Encouragingly.] Speak up, lass. [Pats her hand.] MABEL. [Almost collapsed.] I I thought he loved me I I thought he meant to marry me. I [JiM sits.] POSY. [Kneeling beside her.] Mabel, I I didn't know you cared. This is terrible. I'm so sorry. Speak to me, dear! Tell me, if you can, what's in your heart. MABEL. [In a whisper.] Don't marry him ! QUINNEY. That's straight! POSY. [Still on her knees, but looking up with dignity.] Father, please let me talk to Mabel. [QUINNEY moves to fire] [To MABEL.] Is there any reason why I shouldn't marry Jim? [QUINNEY stands in front of fire.] Is there ? MABEL. [Distinctly.] He's not good enough for you. POSY. Oh! [In a sharper voice.] On your honour, if Jim wanted to marry you instead of me, would you refuse him ? [Silence.] Would you ? MABEL. [Painfully.] I I would marry him if he wanted to marry me. [JiM rises.] QUINNEYS' 103 POSY. [Rising, much distressed] I'm frightened. I [She looks round, helplessly young and girlish, torn in two, dis- trusting her own judgment. She moves over to her mother] QuiNNEY. [Grimly.] He's frightened, too. [Thus challenged, JIM takes the stage. He holds himself well, and speaks with self-possession.] JIM. I discovered long ago that Miss Dredge's feeling for me was stronger than it should be. I am placed in an abomin- able position. [He approaches MABEL.] Mabel MABEL. Yes? JIM. You and Mr. Quinney have forced my hand. I'm sorry to ask you this question. Did I ever promise to marry you ? MABEL. N-no. [She closes her eyes ; her head sinks a little. POSY looks at her, and then at JIM ; then she crosses to her mother.'] POSY. Mother! MRS. QUINNEY. [Wretchedly] Don't ask me anything! I don't know where I am ! I never felt so miserable in all my life. JIM. [With dignity] Posy, you must choose between me and Mabel who would marry me herself, and at the same time advises you to throw me over. I want to spare her feelings, io 4 QUINNEYS' which have been overwrought by your father to serve his own ends. I can support you, whatever happens. Do you trust me, or do you not ? QUINNEY. No ; she doesn't. POSY. [Desperately.] Yes, I do ! JIM. That is good enough for me. [Goes up.] QUINNEY. [Furiously.] Are you all blind ? [PosY goes round to JIM.] Do you think this girl is acting a part ? Put up to it by me ? She can't speak, but I say for her that if this dirty dog didn't promise her marriage, more shame to him! [MABEL lies back in her chair, almost unconscious.] MRS. QUINNEY. [Rising.] You've no right to say that, Joe. POSY. [Choked.] It's too much! QUINNEY. By gum, it is ! POSY. [Relentlessly.] These false charges are horrible. You first accuse Jim of blackmailing you QUINNEY. That's right! POSY. And you refuse to tell us why or how. And now you've dragged this poor girl into it. Oh ! it's shameful shameful ! [Falls into chair.] QUINNEYS' 105 QuiNNEY. Go on! MRS. QUINNEY. Joe, if you could see yourself as I see you, you'd be very sick. [Sits.] QUINNEY. You women are fools, when it comes to a love affair. I appeal to you, Sam Tomlin. [Going forward to MABEL'S thair.] Damn it, you've plenty of sense. You tried to bribe this young fellow away from me. TOMLIN. That's a narsty word. QUINNEY. I ain't pickin' my words now. You tried to lure this dog back with a big rise. Why didn't he take it ? TOMLIN. I don't know. QUINNEY. But I do. He was sweet on this pore lass, carrying on with her, wheedling the heart out of her. Then Posy came back from school, and he saw his chance. Give him his due, he gripped it. He chucked a poor lass for my daughter, because he's after loot. Well, being the first with her, he captured Posy, because the child doesn't know a fake when she sees one. Susan sides with Posy, bein' just such another fool at valuations. But you ain't to be deceived ; your eyesight is still keen. Now as between man and man upon your solemn oath is this young feller what these women think him to be, or is he a damned fake F TOMLIN. [Nervously.] I don't like interfering in the domestic affairs of others. 106 QUINNEYS' QUINNEY. You speak up. MRS. QUINNEY. Please, Sam. [ToMLiN licks his lips and glances nervously at JIM, who remains impassive^ TOMLIN. [Rising. Clearing his throat.] Under protest, I'll give my opinion [JiM sits] for what it is worth for what it is worth. QUINNEY. No hedgin' ! TOMLIN. I have been young QUINNEY. Skip them ancient times and ask yourself if you'd give your daughter to this man ? TOMLIN. [Pompously.] Under the circumstances yes. QUINNEY. [Incredulously.] Wh-a-at ? Say that again! TOMLIN. The young man is clever, hardworking, and bound to succeed. MRS. QUINNEY. I'm sure he never gave his mother a minute's anxiety. QUINNEY. If that's so, old dear, it's because his pore mother died soon after he was born, and, speaking for myself, I don't blame her. [To TOMLIN.] And so, Sam Tomlin, you side against me hey ? QUINNEYS' 107 TOMLIN. I side with common sense. I've four unmarried daughters QUINNEY. I know 'em. TOMLIN. And I should be proud to give any one of them to James. You'll have to surrender, Joe. [Sits.] QUINNEY. Think you've downed me ? Well, you haven't yet. [To MABEL.] Come, lass! [He assists MABEL to her feet.] [MABEL looks dazed.] You clear out of this ! Wait in taxi-cab ! [He supports her to the door, L. She passes out wearily* QUINNEY doses the door and comes C.] Now for it ! Susan ! MRS. QUINNEY. Yes, Joe ? QUINNEY. Posy! POSY. Yes, Father ? QUINNEY. You mark me well. I ain't bluffin'. This man thinks he can hurt me. Perhaps he can ; perhaps he can't. But I'll say this you let it soak in I'd sooner rot in gaol than give my daughter to him. I'll never weaken on that. Never! I've spent my life hunting the right stuff. And I've learnt to loathe and despise rubbish. Rubbish is beastly. Rub- bish is wicked. Rubbish poisons the whole world. James Miggott is rubbish! [Exit.] CURTAIN FALLS ACT IV SCENE : Same as Act I. TIME : 10.30 next morning. CURTAIN discovers MABEL sitting at QUINNEY'S desk. She is marking a catalogue. She looks very pale, with dark lines under her eyes, but quite self-possessed. QUINNEY enters from the landing. He, also, looks miserable, as if he had passed a zuretched night. MABEL. [Rising."] James wants to see you, sir. QUINNEY. [On R. of desk.] I dessay. I'll see that young man when I'm ready, not before. [Sitting.'] Has Mrs. Quinney 'phoned here ? MABEL. No, sir. QUINNEY. [Sitting at his desk.] Where are those damned telegram forms ? MABEL. [Finding them] Here, sir. .08 QUINNEYS' 109 QuiNNEY. Thank you, my dear. {He picks up a pencil, moistens it, and writes out a telegram, which he reads and. then folds.] Clap on a bonnet, and take this yourself. [Gives it to her. She goes, reading it.] I I don't want James to see it. MABEL. [Protesting.] Mr. Quinney QUINNEY. There! There! I distrust everybody. Hold hard! Here, take it out of this. Bring me the change. It's a sovereign. [Gives her coin. As he gives her the money he takes her hand] Sleep badly um ? MABEL. I didn't sleep at all. QUINNEY. By gum! Nor did I. [Lets go her hand] Beastly ain't it ? To toss about, tinglin' all over. [Rises] Per- fectly disgustin'! Look ye here, have you had any talk with James this morning ? MABEL. Not yet. QUINNEY. Do you still want him ? [A pause ; MABEL fidgets] I say do you still want him ? MABEL. [With slight defiance] Yes ; I do. QUINNEY. [Kindly] Then you leave things to me. Cut along with that telegram! [MABEL goes, pausing at the door] i io QUINNEYS' MABEL. I opened the business letters as usual. There's a cheque from Mr. Hunsaker for eleven hundred guineas. It's on the desk. [QuiNNEY nods ; MABEL goes. QUINNEY goes back to his desk, and puts on spectacles. He turns over some letters and, picks up one, from which he takes out a cheque. He looks at it, and then replaces it on his desk, with a weight on top of it. Toot of a taxi is heard. QUINNEY goes to the window, R., to water the canary, and looks out. He comes back, after a moment, grinning and rubbing his hands, chuckling softly. MRS . QUINNEY comes in, wearing the clothes she went away in. Her face is pale and harassed. QUINNEY sits at desk. She remains by door, holding the handled] QUINNEY. Ho! Come back to throw yourself at my feet and ask forgiveness, 'ave you, Mrs. Leave-your-husband ? MRS. QUINNEY. No, Mr. Goggles, I have not. QUINNEY. [Taking off his spectacles^ I've watered the canary. I haven't bitten since yesterday. Our Posy with you ? MRS. QUINNEY. She is. [Speaks formally, rather mincingly.] We have come to pack up some things a few clothes. Any objections ? QUINNEY. None. Meant all you said last night ? MRS. QUINNEY. Every word. QUINNEYS' in QuiNNEY. What a helpmate! MRS. QUINNEY. Sam Tomlin is downstairs. I hate the man, but you had better ask for his advice. QUINNEY. I often do, old dear ; and as often as not I've thanked God that I didn't take it. How is our Posy this morning ? MRS. QUINNEY. The pore child has cried her eyes out. QUINNEY. That sounds sloppy. Tell Sam to step up. [She obeys.] MRS. QUINNEY. [O//.] You're to come up, Sam Tomlin. [MRS. QUINNEY goes out, QUINNEY'S face changes. He looks uneasy and worried. He jots down some more figures, and then picks up Hunsaker's cheque and stares at it thoughtfully. He picks up POSY'S photograph, looks at it, is about to replace it, sighs, puts it in his inner breast pocket. SAM enters. He wears a very shiny hat, which he does not remove. QUINNEY nods unceremoniously^] TOMLIN. Gloatin' over your treasures, as usual! QUINNEY. Draw up a chair ! [TOMLIN takes chair below door.] No, not that. It's Posy's, it won't bear you. Over there! [Points to chair above door. TOMLIN fetches indicated chair. ,] Have a cigar ? ii2 QUINNEYS' [He indicates a box on the desk. TOMLIN, before sitting down, picks up the box, examines it, selects a cigar, smells it, and puts it to his ear.] TOMLIN. Seems all right. QUINNEY. They are all right ; I smoke only the best in this room. [TOMLIN proceeds to light his cigar, eyeing QUINNEY as he does so. He sits with the desk between himself and QUINNEY.] TOMLIN. About this young feller, Joe QUINNEY. [Genially.] Business first. [Picks up cheque} I got this from Mr. Hunsaker this morning. Cheque for the chairs. Eleven hundred guineas. TOMLIN. Quick profit! [Glances at cheque and returns it.] QUINNEY. You sent Hunsaker to me. Here's your commission. [Hands over second cheque} TOMLIN. [Looking at it.} Quite correct. [Putting cheque in pocket.} QUINNEY. [Pushing a piece of paper and a pen across the desk} Sign that, please! TOMLIN. A receipt ? Isn't your cheque a receipt, Joe ? QUINNEY. A cheque don't state what the money was paid for. QUINNEYS' 113 TOMLIN. Very good! [Takes pen from QUINNEY and pauses to read.] " Received from Joseph Quinney twenty guineas, ten per cent, commission paid on profit of sale of eight Chippen- dale chairs to Cyrus P. Hunsaker, New Mexico." Isn't that rather explicit ? QUINNEY. [Shortly.] My way o' doin' business. TOMLIN. [With a laugh.] You come to the conclusion that the chairs were all right, hey ? QUINNEY. [Sharply.] I came to the conclusion that I bought the chairs in good faith for what they purported to be. And this Hunsaker bought 'em from me believin' the same. TOMLIN. No complaints. [He signs the receipt, and gives it to QUINNEY ; then he pockets pen.] QUINNEY. Come off it. [TOMLIN returns pen, with a laugh.] TOMLIN. Beg pardon! QUINNEY. [In a different tone.] Nice brother-in-law, you are. TOMLIN. Eh ? What ? QUINNEY. What you take me for ? ii 4 QUINNEYS' TOMLIN. A clever but an obstinate man, Joe. QuiNNEY. Clever ! Well, I've found out a thing or two this morning. [Leans forward.] I've been hot on your trail, I have. You sent those eight chairs to Christopher's under another name. Don't deny it. I've been to Christopher's, and I know. TOMLIN. Why not ? QUINNEY. I bought 'em for nine hundred guineas. TOMLIN. \Judicially] The more fool you ! Never thought you'd be had? QUINNEY. I ain't had yet. [Slily] You see, I've got your re- ceipt, Sam. [Posts receipt in desk.] Good-night! TOMLIN. What of it ? QUINNEY. Only this. If James or anybody else should tell this smite-and-spare-not chap that the chairs are not genuine, and that I knew it and that you knew it TOMLIN. [Defiantly] I haven't admitted that I know it. QUINNEY. James can prove that. [TOMLIN moves uneasily, and half rises] Let me finish ! [TOMLIN sits again] QUINNEYS' 115 If the truth is told I shall have to return Hunsaker's cheque ; and you'll have to return my cheque. TOMLIN. No objections! QUINNEY. Then, Sam, I shall be out the nine hundred guineas paid to Christopher's. TOMLIN. [Nervously.] You can't help that. QUINNEY. Yes, I can. That nine hundred, less Christopher's com- mission, goes to you. If there's trouble, I shall exchange your receipt, Sam, for just the sum, neither more nor less, which you have received from Christopher. You will have the chairs. [Chuckles.] Got it ? TOMLIN. Got what ? QUINNEY. If this young feller downs Joe Quinney, he downs Sam Tomlin, too. You must fight on my side this morning. Hunsaker'll be here at eleven. [TOMLIN squirms in his chair] TOMLIN. Then you ain't settled with James yet ? QUINNEY. Not yet. TOMLIN. [Tremendously perturbed] Um ! The women won't give in. [MABEL enters] ii6 QUINNEYS' MABEL. Nineteen and twopence, sir. QUINNEY. Right! [MABEL goes.} TOMLIN. How far do you think the feller's gone with that typist ? QUINNEY. Probably as far as she'd let him. TOMLIN. In my experience young women who have to earn their living don't let a man go too far. QUINNEY. [Sharply.] I can't have my Posy's mind soiled by en- quirin' into that. Cut Mabel Dredge out of this. TOMLIN. [Heavily.] James must be squared. QUINNEY. Want to see him ? [TOMLIN nods} QUINNEY. Then call him up. [Indicates tube} [TOMLIN nods. He crosses to fireplace and whistles down tube} TOMLIN. That you, James ? You're to come up at once. [Re~ places tube} QUINNEY. Lettin* your cigar go out, ain't you ? QUINNEYS' 117 TOMLIN. [Disgustedly.] Don't feel like smokin' this morning. [Throws away cigar into fireplace.] Go easy with him, Joe! [Sits on tabouret, L.C.] [JiM enters.] JIM. [Going C.] Yes, sir ? [To TOMLIN.] Morning, Mr. Tomlin. TOMLIN. [L.C.] Mornin'. QuiNNEY. [R.C.] Bin usin' a Sandow's Exerciser, Mr. Chesty ? TOMLIN. Teh! Teh! JIM. No. [Stands looking at the two men. He goes to door, R. } shuts it, returns to desk, leaning on it.] QUINNEY. I'm going to make you an offer. JIM. Very good, sir. QUINNEY. This young woman, Mabel Dredge, is fool enough to want you, for reasons which I can guess at but which I refuse to discuss with you. Marry her, and I'll make her a present. TOMLIN. And so will I. JIM. [Quietly.] I want Posy. You refuse to believe me, but there it is. And she wants me. iiS QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. Nothing'll budge you from that ? JIM. Nothing, sir. [Turns up stage a little.] [QuiNNEY rises, with a stifled exclamation, and goes to the door, R. He opens it, and stands on the landing.] QUINNEY. Posy! Posy! POSY. [Off.] Yes? QUINNEY. Come you here, and your mother, too. [Returns to desk.] TOMLIN. [Nervously.] Time's slippin' by, Joe. QUINNEY. [Irritably] I know it. [Returns to desk and sits.] TOMLIN. [R.C.] No use that I can see callin' in the women. [Enter POSY and MRS. QUINNEY. POSY is dressed very becomingly. MRS. QUINNEY closes door, and then comes down to chair by desk and sits.] QUINNEY. [Staring at POSY.] Hullo ! Goin' to church ? POSY. Perhaps ! JIM. I can buy a special licence to-day. [PosY goes to him.] QUINNEYS' 119 QuiNNEY. Fine! MRS. QUINNEY. [To QUINNEY.] Have you listened to Sam ? QUINNEY. No ; but he's listened to me. You do the same. You haven't yet grasped, neither of you, that this young fellow is threatening me. MRS. QUINNEY. I'm tired of hearing that. What does he threaten you with ? QUINNEY. [Deliberately.] He threatens to injure my reputation. POSY. How? QUINNEY. [Showing feeling.] You can ask him. POSY. Can I see Jim alone ? QUINNEY. No. TOMLIN. [Rises and crosses to desk.] Let the girl have her way, Joe. She ain't a fool. She can save the situation. POSY. How, Uncle ? [Leaving him and coming down a little, C. JIM follows to end of stool] TOMLIN. If you want to marry this young man, make it plain to him that he mustn't threaten your dear father. 120 QUINNEYS' POSY. [To QUINNEY, touching him.] Let me see Jim alone, Daddy. QUINNEY. Very well. [He goes out, R. TOMLIN stands politely at the door to let MRS. QUINNEY pass. He follows her out, closing door. POSY watches her father off, then crosses to fireplace.] POSY. [Decidedly.] Now, Jim, what does all this mean ? [The stool is between them.] JIM. I'd rather not tell you, Posy. POSY. [Decidedly.] But you must. When it comes to threaten- ing my father JIM. [Quietly.] You stand in with him ? POSY. [Quickly.] I don't say that, but I want to be in a fair position to judge between you. JIM. What I tell you may hurt you, dear. POSY. Then I must be hurt. [JiM takes her hands.] JIM. \With feeling.] How I hate hurting you ! POSY. Let's get it over quick! QUINNEYS' 121 JIM. [Slowly.] You believe your father to be an honest dealer. POSY. [Warmly.] So he is, the most honest in London. JIM. That's not saying much. Well, darling, I believe he is honest, but this morning is going to try him rather high. POSY. Oh ! [Withdraws her hands and sits.] JIM. [Slowly.] If he isn't honest, he'll consent to our marriage. POSY. And if he is honest ? Jik. We shall have to do without his consent. POSY. What has Father done ? JIM. [Sits.] He bought those Christopher chairs at a big figure believing them to be authentic specimens. He sold them to Mr. Hunsaker in that belief. I know them to be fakes. POSY. [Confounded.] Jim ! JIM. I can injure his reputation, both as an honest dealer, and as an expert. Now, between you and me I wouldn't injure your father for the world. i 122 QUINNEYS' POSY. [Thoughtfully.] Father knows those chairs to be fakes ? JIM. He does. POSY. This is a tremendous test of Father. JIM. It is. POSY. I mean, it tests his love for me. JIM. Eh? POSY. If he thinks that you can injure him in his business, which is so dear to him, and if he risks that injury, why then he must care most awfully for me. JIM. That's true! POSY. And and I've never really known how much he does care for me. JIM. Win or lose, I want you more than anything else in the world. POSY. I'm not afraid of poverty with the man I care about. JIM. I am afraid of poverty for the girl I care about. Last night, Posy, you were frightened. Do you remember ? QUINNEYS' 123 [She nods] To-day it is my turn. I'm frightened. I know what poverty is. I was educated at a charitable institu- tion. Charity apprenticed me to a cabinet-maker [rises] charity nearly buried me twice. I've known what it is to be without food and without money, and to wake morn- ing after morning wishing that I had died in the night. I don't want you, Posy, to go through what I've gone through; and that's why I'm righting for your father's consent. POSY. But Father is fighting for me, too, isn't he ? [She rises.] JIM. [Arrested by something in her tone.] Yes ; I suppose he is. POSY. He would be miserable without Mother ; he knows that he is in your power, and yet he refuses to sanction our engagement. [She runs to door and opens it.] Father! Father! [JiM rises] QuiNNEY. [Off.] I hear you. POSY. Come back, all of you. JIM. What are you up to, Posy ? [She comes back to him] POSY. You'll see. [QUINNEY, MRS. QUINNEY and TOMLIN make a rather dramatic entry, filing in silently, each face wearing a different expression] 12 124 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. [Grimly.] Well ? [Coming C.] POSY. [In her sweetest voice.] Daddy dear QUINNEY. [Scornfully.] Daddy dear ? What ho ! POSY. [Taking his arm, very coaxingly.] James is not threaten- ing you. QUINNEY. [Obstinately] Yes, he is ; humbuggin' me and hum- buggin' you. POSY. And I know that he can't hurt you, because [looks inno- cently up into his face] you are the honestest dealer in the world, aren't you ? QUINNEY. [Smacking his lips] Yes, I am. It pays to be honest, my girl. POSY. That's not why you're honest ? QUINNEY. No, lass, it isn't. I swore solemn to have nothing to do with fakes the night you was born. POSY. Daddy what a funny time to choose ! QUINNEY. [dngrily] Funny ? We'd been wed ten years afore you come, and your pore mother nearly died the night you was born ; and so did I, by gum! QUINNEYS' 125 MRS. QUINNEY. Now, Joe, you ain't going into that, are you ? QUINNEY. Yes ; I am. [MRS. QUINNEY sits R. of desk.\ Why not ? It's high time, speakin' of values, that young Posy should know what she cost us. She's eighteen. I take it she knows that she didn't drop from heaven into the middle of a gooseberry bush. POSY. \With tears in her voice, turning to her mother] Mummie,. did you nearly die ? MRS. QUINNEY. [Softly.] Yes. [Kisses her.] POSY. [To QUINNEY ; almost inaudibly.] I shall always re- member that. QUINNEY. [In a softer voice.] You're porcelain, my pretty, and he's [his voice hardens] common pottery. POSY. He isn't. QUINNEY. [Looking JIM up and down] He's nicely decorated, and there's a smooth buttery glaze to him, but his paste is rotten. [MRS. QUINNEY goes to the window] POSY. [With a shrug] James is a real help to you in your busi- ness. He found out about that Worcester teapot ; he's a fine workman. 126 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. No better than dozens I know, not a bit ! Enough of this ! TOMLIN. We're wasting valuable time. Mr. Hunsaker will be here directly. MRS. QUINNEY. [At window ; turning.] He is here ! [QUINNEY stands where he is, scowling. TOMLIN joins MRS. QUINNEY at window. POSY looks at her father] TOMLIN. What ? [Turning.] Good Lord ! [Wipes his forehead] QUINNEY. Anything new ? TOMUN. [Coming down] Mr. Dupont Jordan is with him. POSY. Who is Mr. Dupont Jordan ? [Going up] TOMLIN. [Excitedly] The famous millionaire and collector. [In an impassioned voice] Joe, you're downed ! QUINNEY. [Between his teeth] I'm damned if I am ! [Turns savagely to JIM.] Go and show these gentlemen up. TOMLIN. This may mean, Joe, ruin for you and me. QUINNEY. [To JIM.] James, do as I bid you. [JiM goes] QUINNEYS' 127 TOMLIN. [Nervously.] I think I'll retire. QuiNNEY. [Standing in front of him.] No, you don't ! Shoulder to shoulder, Sam, till the last shot is fired. [To the women.} You two can go, or stay. POSY. As you are fighting for me, I shall stay. MRS. QUINNEY. I've looked on all my life, and I can do it a little longer. [Joins POSY.] QUINNEY. [Going to his desk.] As you please. POSY. [Crossing to him. MRS. QUINNEY by stool.] Father! QUINNEY. [Turning over some papers^ Too late to say you're sorry now, my girl. [PosY returns to her mother^ [Voices are heard on the stairs^] HUNSAKER. [Off] Yes, sir, a sanctuary, and not a thing in it for sale. [JiM ushers in HUNSAKER, carrying some roses, and JORDAN. JORDAN is a man of fifty, very quietly dressed, as unlike the blatant type of millionaire as possible. QUINNEY rises. JIM stands by the door, very pale, but determined^] QUINNEY. [Rising.] Good-morning, gentlemen. 128 QUINNEYS' HUNSAKER. Good-morning, Mr. Quinney. This is Mr. Dupont Jordan. QUINNEY. Glad to see you, Mr. Jordan. [JORDAN, R. of desk, makes a slight inclination of his head.] HUNSAKER. [L. of desk ; presenting roses to POSY, C.J And this young lady, Mr. Jordan, is Miss Posy Quinney, the gem of the famous collection. [JORDAN bows to her.] POSY. [To HUNSAKER.] What lovely roses! Thank you ever so much. QUINNEY. [Indicating MRS. QUINNEY.] My wife, Mr. Jordan. [JORDAN bows to her.] TOMLIN. [Very obsequiously^ Mr. Dupont Jordan has honoured me with his patronage. HUNSAKER. [Heartily.] What he don't know about Chippendale furniture you could put into a grain of millet seed, and hear it rattle! TOMLIN. [In a hollow voice.] Just so. Just so. JORDAN. [In a quiet voice.] Mr. Hunsaker has excited my curiosity .about these famous chairs. QUINNEYS' 129 HuNSAKER. He'd like to have a look at 'em. TOMLIN. [Much disturbed.] Didn't you say [looks at QUINNEY] that they were already packed up ? QUINNEY. Packed and cased ; but they can be unpacked. [TOMLIN, in despair, turns to fireplace.] JORDAN. No, no, please. [He goes up, admiring room. POSY and MRS. QUINNEY move L.] QUINNEY. [To JIM.] One chair, I believe, is still unpacked ? JIM. Yes. QUINNEY. Fetch it! [As JIM obeys, HUNSAKER joins the ladies.} HUNSAKER. Miss Posy ? POSY. Yes. HUNSAKER. You look fine this morning. JORDAN. [At cabinet^ A superb cabinet. QUINNEY. Seventeenth century. \Joins JORDAN.] 130 QUINNEYS' JORDAN. [Examining it.] Early seventeenth. A museum piece. QUINNEY. It is. I sometimes wonder whether it will form part of the National Collection. JORDAN. Was it one of your happy bargains ? QUINNEY. [Glancing at POSY.] One way or another, it's cost me nearly 5,000. JORDAN. 5,000. Surely not! QUINNEY. Oh I know it's not worth that. [JiM enters, R., carrying an arm-chair, which he sets down carefully in the middle of the room, and then stands back of desk. TOMLIN betrays nervousness. QUINNEY smiles derisively^ HUNSAKER. Ah, the chair! [PosY alert and watchful.] Now, Mr. Jordan! Here, sir, is a chair that is a chair! JORDAN. Beautiful! [To QUINNEY, as he adjusts pince-nez.] May I ? QUINNEY. Examine it ? Aye, do, Mr. Jordan. [JORDAN proceeds to make a brisk examination : the tension grows as he does so. JIM watches QUINNEY. POSY looks at JORDAN. JORDAN sets the chair down. There is a pause. POSY hangs on his words.] QUINNEYS' 131 JORDAN. Exquisite! The hand of the master indeed. Hunsaker, I covet! HUNSAKER. Then pack it up quick, young feller, in case Mr. Jordan pockets it. [He and JORDAN laugh. A pause.] QuiNNEY. Well, d'ye hear, James ? [JAMES doesn't move.] POSY. [Impulsively to her father] Oh ! but Daddy QUINNEY. [Waving her aside.] You be still, my lass! [JORDAN and HUNSAKER are slightly mystified. TOM- LIN alarmed. JAMES torn between his honesty and love. A -pause. Then QUINNEY. [Arrestingly.~\ You're sure the chair is genuine, Mr. Jordan ? JORDAN. Yes. QUINNEY. And you, Sam Tomlin ? TOMLIN. Oh er certainly ^rtainly. QUINNEY. Good! JIM. But sir ! QUINNEY. Eh! What's that ? Speak up, my lad! JIM. It's not for me to speak, sir. 132 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. Bashful at last, eh ? Then I will. Mr. Hunsaker, I wired to you this morning to say that there was some doubt about these chairs. HUNSAKER. You don't say! JORDAN. Doubt? Not possible! QUINNEY. I bought these chairs as genuine. I sold 'em to you as genuine, but my foreman here says they're not. JORDAN. Your foreman is mistaken, Mr. Quinney. QUINNEY. You think so ? [JORDAN nods."] Then my eyes are not the only ones failing. You looked at the genuine half, Mr. Jordan. But, see here ! [Shows JORDAN faked parts.] Feel this. Look at that ribbon work! One half is George II, the other's George V. JORDAN. [Convinced, taken aback.] Dear me! dear, dear! You're right, Mr. Quinney, and I could have sworn [Abruptly .to JAMES.] What aroused your suspicions, young man ? [PosY walks round to R.C. above desk.] JIM. I can't claim much credit. I happen to know the cabinet- maker who did the job. [ToMLiN displays uneasiness.] JORDAN Really! QUINNEY. I'd like to know him, too. Who is he ? QUINNEYS' 133 JIM. I did the job myself! QUINNEY. [Startled.] You ? POSY. Oh! [JiM nods.] QUINNEY. When ? JIM. When I was working [TOMLIN grows still more uneasy .] for another dealer. [TOMLIN wipes his forehead and smiles feebly.] I need hardly add that I am innocent of any attempt to pass the chairs off as being genuine. QUINNEY. [To HUNSAKER.] I told you we dealers was had some- times. TOMLIN. [Unctuously.] Sometimes, gentlemen ; not often thank God ! [4ssum.es a majestic attitude^ QUINNEY. [To JIM.] Ton did the job, my lad ? [For answer, JIM goes C., and whips out the seat of the chair. He shows QUINNEY a mark upon the woodwork underneath.] JIM. My mark, sir. [He replaces the seat, and at a gesture from QUINNEY puts the chair against the wall, near the window up R. POSY joins him.] 134 QUINNEYS' HUNSAKER. [Excitedly.] I bought the chairs in good faith, and I'll stand by my bargain. QuiNNEY. [Firmly.] I couldn't allow that. [Crosses to desk.] [The grouping is as follows : POSY is slightly back with her mother. QUINNEY is at desk, centre, with JORDAN L.C. HUNSAKER is down R. TOMLIN, now quite himself, stands upon the hearthrug, surveying the- proceedings with a bland smile.] QUINNEY. [To HUNSAKER.] Here is your cheque. [HUNSAKER takes it.] JORDAN. [To QUINNEY.] I congratulate you, Mr. Quinney. Your foreman is a master-craftsman, more an artist. JIM. Thank you, sir. [Coming down to JORDAN'S right hand.] HUNSAKER. Mr. Quinney, this is a chin-smasher for me ; you're a dead square man, sir. [Holds out his hand.] MRS. QUINNEY. [Proudly.] I should hope so. HUNSAKER. Suffering Moses! You're out a clean nine hundred ? QUINNEY. Not quite that, am I, Sam ? TOMLIN. No. [Superbly.] We dealers are prepared to pay for our mistakes ; but we don't want them made public. QUINNEYS' 135 HUNSAKER. You bet they won't be made public by Mr. Jordan or me. QuiNNEY. [With his eye on TOMLIN.] Mr. Tomlin is an honourable man. [TOMLIN inflates.] We shall settle this loss between ourselves. [TOMLIN deflates.] HUNSAKER. Mr. Tomlin is O.K. too. TOMLIN. [Effusively.] Always pleased to see you in Bond Street, gentlemen. Good-day. Good-day. [He goes out, carrying a high head. JIM opens door. MRS. QUINNEY and POSY drift over L.] HUNSAKER. And now, Mr. Quinney, \waves cheque] I hate to carry this away with me. I'd like to send back to the great and grow- ing town of Hunsaker a souvenir of this morning. Can't you let me have something else ? QUINNEY. By gum ! You can have anything in this room you want. HUNSAKER. [Looking round.] Gee! QUINNEY. [Slily.] I'll leave it to Mr. Jordan. He knows values. If he sees anything worth eleven hundred guineas, you can have it at that price. HUNSAKER. Great! It's up to you, Mr. Jordan. JORDAN. That lac cabinet is worth at least the sum you mention. [Pause.] 136 QUINNEYS' QuiNNEY. If you want it, Mr. Hunsaker, it's yours. HUNSAKER. You bet. [He hands over the cheque, which QUINNEY places on his desk] JORDAN. [Offering his hand.] If you will excuse me, I must go now. We shall do business together, Mr. Quinney. QUINNEY. Glad, I'm sure. JORDAN. I hope to come back often. [Exit.] HUNSAKER. Good-bye, Miss Posy ! Good-bye, Mrs. Quinney! Good- bye, Mr. Quinney! [HUNSAKER shakes hands with the ladies, and exits. JIM opens door as QUINNEY and HUNSAKER go out] POSY. There! Oh, Mumsie, Jim, isn't Daddy splendid ? I knew it! I knew it! I used to tell the girls at school that he was the most honest dealer in London. Didn't I, Mumsie ? MRS. QUINNEY. It didn't need telling. JIM. Posy, do you know what it means ? POSY. What I stand up in! Yes. That is why I put on my best, Darling! [QUINNEY re-enters.] QUINNEYS' 137 POSY. [Excitedly.] Daddy, I am proud of you. QuiNNEY. [Grimly.] Before we begin to throw bouquets at each other, I want to prove to your mother and you that I care for persons more than things. [Goes to door, L.] Mabel MABEL. [Off.] Yes, sir. QUINNEY. Come inside, my lass. [Enter MABEL.] Now then, do you still care for this young man r MABEL. [Nervously^ Ye-es. QUINNEY. Speak up, my dear! MABEL. [More firmly] Yes ; I do. QUINNEY. [At back of desk ; to POSY.] Posy, I know the value of money, because I've made it. Money can buy nearly everything. Money can buy you. POSY. It can't. QUINNEY. It can buy you from him. MRS. QUINNEY. [Sitting on stool, L.C., POSY by her. JIM L.C.] You ain't the judge of quality you was, Joe. QUINNEY. Don't you butt in yet, old dear! [Endorses cheque] Now, James, here's a nice cheque for eleven hundred guineas. i 3 8 QUINNEYS' endorsed. I propose to offer you this cheque and Mabel Dredge. More, I'll double your salary, because as Mr. Jordan says you are a master-craftsman. My lad, you must choose, and choose quick, between Mabel Dredge, and this cheque, and five quid a week, or [he pauses dramati- cally] Posy, in what she has on, and her mother, and not a farthing from me, neither now, nor later. [He holds out the cheque with an ironical smile.] [JAMES looks at POSY. POSY displays uneasiness, and moves nearer to her mother] [Moving forward ; tapping cheque] And the cheque won't be on offer long, my lad! [JiM crosses to MABEL. POSY clutches her mother] JIM. Mabel ? MABEL. [Nervously] Yes, Jim ? JIM. [Gently.] Did you honestly believe that my friendship for you meant something else ? MABEL. [Defiantly]. Yes ; I did, and do. JIM. I'm very sorry. I liked you ; I thought you were a good sort ; but I never made love to you. I want Posy and I'll take her bless her! as she stands. [To QUINNEY.] That's my answer. MABEL. [With agitation] I'm sorry, too, Jim. [To POSY.] I tried to take him from you, and I've failed. [At door.] But, I'd do it again, if I thought I could get him. [She rushes from the room] QUINNEYS' 139 QUINNEY. Um ! Come you here, my lad ! [JiM approaches ; QUINNEY stares at him.] Where's my specs ? [He puts them on, and continues exami- nation^] You'll take her, as she stands hey ? JIM. Gladly. QUINNEY. And Mrs. Quinney with her ? JIM. I'll do my best to give them both a home. QUINNEY. [Slowly.] By gum! I was mistaken ; you are quality ! POSY. Father! QUINNEY. Come you here, too. [She obeys ; he looks at her fondly .] I mean to hold tight on to you, Posy, and to James, also. I want both of you. POSY. Father, then you do love me ? QUINNEY. [Solemnly.] By God! I do. [With a return to his former manner^ Take her, James, and scoot ! [They glance at him ; he points to the door ; they go out y hand in hand.] QUINNEY. [To SUSAN.] Ain't I a reglar rag-bag o' surprises ? [Looks at cabinet.] Lordy ! Lordy ! [Going up to cabinet^] How I hated parting with that old friend! 140 QUINNEYS' MRS. QUINNEY. You was ready enough to part with me, QUINNEY. Go it, Mrs. Fly-by-night! [Going down L. of stool. Sits on big chair.] I've been ploughin' a bit too near danger line. MRS. QUINNEY. I'm glad to hear you say that, Joe. And I do hope this has been a lesson to you. Speakin' personally, I shall never feel the same again. QUINNEY. [Holding her affectionately} Lord love your simple heart, Susie ! Men and women don't change as easy as that. You'll go on bein' so to speak the same silly, sweet old dear you always have been, and I shall remain Joe Quinney, a most remarkable man, and a perfect model of a husband and father. By gum! [Rises.] MRS. QUINNEY. What is it ? [He peers behind screen and comes back.} QUINNEY. Let's have a shot, old lass, at that butterfly kiss. MRS. QUINNEY. Go on, Joe ! QUINNEY. Bend down your cheek, love! [He gives her a butterfly kiss] MRS. QUINNEY. Well? QUINNEY. Rotten! [He pulls her on to his knee and cuddles her as CURTAIN FALLS GARDEN CITY PRESS LIMITED, PRINTERS, LETCHWORTH, ENGLAND. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. orm L9-20m-9,'61(C3106s4)444 THE LIBRARY TOUVEKSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES'- PR 7 ache 11 - Vl3qu Ai-H-. PR 6oij3 V13qu A 000 562 353 3