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In the library of a handsomely appointed villa at Surbiton on a sunny forenoon in September. Sartorius is busy at a writing table, littered with business letters. The fireplace, decorated for summer, is close behind him : the window is in the opposite wall. Between the table and the window Blanche, in her prettiest frock, sits reading The Queen. The door, painted, like all the woodwork, in the blackest shade of red, with brass fittings and moulded posts and pediment, is in the middle. All the walls are lined with shelves of smartly tooled books, fitting into their places like bricks. A library ladder stands in the corner.

SARTORIUS Blanche.

BLANCHE Yes, papa.

SARTORIUS I have some news here.

BLANCHE What is it?

SARTORIUS I mean news for you from Trench.

BLANCHE [with affected indifference] Indeed?

SARTORIUS “Indeed?”! Is that all you have to say to me? Oh, very well. [He resumes his work. Silence.]

BLANCHE What do his people say, papa?

SARTORIUS His people! I dont know. [Still busy. Another pause.]

BLANCHE What does he say?

SARTORIUS He! He says nothing. [He folds a letter leisurely and looks for the envelope.] He prefers to communicate the result of his where did I put — Oh, here. Yes: He prefers to communicate the result in person.

BLANCHE [springing up] Oh, papa! When is he coming?

SARTORIUS If he walks from the station, he may arrive in the course of the next halfhour. If he drives, he may be here at any moment.

BLANCHE [making hastily for the door] Oh!

SARTORIUS Blanche.

BLANCHE Yes, papa.

SARTORIUS You will of course not meet him until he has spoken to me.

BLANCHE [hypocritically] Of course not, papa. I shouldnt have thought of such a thing.

SARTORIUS That is all. [She is going, when he puts out his hand, and says with fatherly emotion:] My dear child. [She responds by going over to kiss him. A tap at the door.] Come in. [Lickcheese enters, carrying a black handbag. He is a shabby, needy man, with dirty face and linen, scrubby beard and whiskers, going bald. A nervous, wiry, pertinacious sort of human terrier, judged by his mouth and eyes, but miserably apprehensive and servile before Sartorius. He bids Blanche “Good morning, miss.” and she passes out with a slight and contemptuous recognition of him.]

LICKCHEESE Good morning, sir.

SARTORIUS [harsh and peremptory] Good morning.

LICKCHEESE [taking a little sack of money from his bag] Not much this morning, sir. I have just had the honor of making Dr Trench’s acquaintance, sir.

SARTORIUS [looking up from his writing, displeased] Indeed?

LICKCHEESE Yes, sir. Dr Trench asked his way of me, and was kind enough to drive me from the station.

SARTORIUS Where is he, then?

LICKCHEESE I left him in the hall, with his friend, sir. I should think he is speaking to Miss Sartorius.

SARTORIUS Hm! What do you mean by his friend?

LICKCHEESE There is a Mr Cokane with him, sir.

SARTORIUS I see you have been talking to him, eh?

LICKCHEESE As we drove along: yes, sir.

SARTORIUS [sharply] Why did you not come by the nine o’clock train?

LICKCHEESE I thought —

SARTORIUS It cannot be helped now; so never mind what you thought. But do not put off my business again to the last moment. Has there been any further trouble about the St Giles property?

LICKCHEESE The Sanitary Inspector has been complaining again about No. 13 Robbins’s Row. He says he’ll bring it before the vestry.

SARTORIUS Did you tell him that I am on the vestry?

LICKCHEESE Yes, Sir.

SARTORIUS What did he say to that?

LICKCHEESE Said he supposed so, or you wouldnt dare to break the law so scand’lous. I only tell you what he said.

SARTORIUS Hm! Do you know his name!

LICKCHEESE Yes, sir. Speakman.

SARTORIUS Write it down in the diary for the day of the next meeting of the Health Committee. I will teach Mr Speakman his duty to members of the vestry.

LICKCHEESE [doubtfully] The vestry cant hurt him, sir. He’s under the Local Government Board.

SARTORIUS I did not ask you that. Let me see the books. [Lickcheese produces the rent book, and hands it to Sartorius; then makes the desired entry in the diary on the table, watching Sartorius with misgiving as the rent book is examined. Sartorius rises, frowning] £1:4s for repairs to No. 13. What does this mean?

LICKCHEESE Well, sir, it was the staircase on the third floor. It was downright dangerous: There werent but three whole steps in it, and no handrail. I thought it best to have a few boards put in.

SARTORIUS Boards! Firewood, sir, firewood! They will burn every stick of it. You have spent twenty-four shillings of my money on firewood for them.

LICKCHEESE There ought to be stone stairs, sir: it would be a saving in the long run. The clergyman says —

SARTORIUS What! who says?

LICKCHEESE The clergyman, sir, only the clergyman. Not that I make much account of him; but if you knew how he has worried me over that staircase —

SARTORIUS I am an Englishman; and I will suffer no priest to interfere in my business. [He turns suddenly on Lickcheese.] Now look here, Mr Lickcheese! This is the third time this year that you have brought me a bill of over a pound for repairs. I have warned you repeatedly against dealing with these tenement houses as if they were mansions in a West-End square. I have had occasion to warn you too against discussing my affairs with strangers. You have chosen to disregard my wishes. You are discharged.

LICKCHEESE [dismayed] Oh, sir, dont say that.

SARTORIUS [fiercely] You are discharged.

LICKCHEESE Well, Mr Sartorius, it is hard, so it is. No man alive could have screwed more out of them poor destitute devils for you than I have, or spent less in doing it. I have dirtied my hands at it until theyre not fit for clean work hardly; and now you turn me —

SARTORIUS [interrupting him menacingly] What do you mean by dirtying your hands? If I find that you have stepped an inch outside the letter of the law, Mr Lickcheese, I will prosecute you myself. The way to keep your hands clean is to gain the confidence of your employers. You will do well to bear that in mind in your next situation.

THE PARLOR MAID [opening the door] Mr Trench and Mr Cokane. [Cokane and Trench come in: Trench festively dressed and in buoyant spirits, Cokane highly selfsatisfed.]

SARTORIUS How do you do, Dr Trench? Good morning, Mr Cokane. I am pleased to see you here. Mr Lickcheese: You will place your accounts and money on the table: I will examine them and settle with you presently. [Lickcheese retires to the table, and begins to arrange his accounts, greatly depressed.]

TRENCH [glancing at Lickcheese] I hope we’re not in the way.

SARTORIUS By no means. Sit down, pray. I fear you have been kept waiting.

TRENCH {taking Blanche’s chair] Not at all. Weve only just come in. [He takes out a packet of letters and begins untying them.]

COKANE [going to a chair nearer the window, but stopping to look admiringly round before sitting down] You must be happy here with all these books, Mr Sartorius. A literary atmosphere.

SARTORIUS [resuming his seat] I have not looked into them. They are pleasant for Blanche occasionally when she wishes to read. I chose the house because it is on gravel. The death-rate is very low.

TRENCH [triumphantly] I have any amount of letters for you. All my people are delighted that I am going to settle. Aunt Maria wants Blanche to be married from her house. [He hands Sartorius a letter.]

SARTORIUS Aunt Maria?

COKANE Lady Roxdale, my dear sir: He means Lady Roxdale. Do express yourself with a little more tact, my dear fellow.

TRENCH Lady Roxdale, of course. Uncle Harry —

COKANE Sir Harry Trench. His godfather, my dear sir, his godfather.

TRENCH Just so. The pleasantest fellow for his age you ever met. He offers us his house at St Andrews for a couple of months, if we care to pass our honeymoon there. [He hands Sartorius another letter.] It’s the sort of house nobody can live in, you know; but it’s a nice thing for him to offer. Dont you think so?

SARTORIUS {dissembling a thrill at the titles] No doubt. These seem very gratifying, Dr Trench.

TRENCH Yes, arnt they? Aunt Maria has really behaved like a brick. If you read the postscript youll see she spotted Cokane’s hand in my letter. [Chuckling] He wrote it for me.

SARTORIUS {glancing at Cokane] Indeed! Mr Cokane evidently did it with great tact.

COKANE [returning the glance] Dont mention it.

TRENCH [gleefully] Well, what do you say now, Mr Sartorius? May we regard the matter as settled at last?

SARTORIUS Quite settled. [He rises and offers his hand. Trench, glowing with gratitude, rises and shakes it vehemently, unable to find words for his feelings.]

COKANE [coming between them] Allow me to congratulate you both. [He shakes hands with the two at the same time,]

SARTORIUS And now, gentlemen, I have a word to say to my daughter. Dr Trench: You will not, I hope, grudge me the pleasure of breaking this news to her: I have had to disappoint her more than once since I last saw you. Will you excuse me for ten minutes?

COKANE [in a flush of friendly protest] My dear sir : can you ask?

TRENCH Certainly.

SARTORIUS Thank you. [He goes out.]

TRENCH [chuckling again] He wont have any news to break, poor old boy: she’s seen all the letters already.

COKANE I must say your behavior has been far from straightforward, Harry. You have been carrying on a clandestine correspondence.

LICKCHEESE [stealthily] Gentlemen —

TENCH & COKANE [Turning — They had forgotten his presence] Hallo!

LICKCHEESE [coming between them very humbly, but in mortal anxiety and haste] Look here, gentlemen. [To Trench] You, sir, I address myself to more particlar. Will you say a word in my favor to the guvnor? He’s just given me the sack; and I have four children looking to me for their bread. A word from you, sir, on this happy day, might get him to take me on again.

TRENCH [embarrassed] Well, you see, Mr Lickcheese, I dont see how I can interfere. I’m very sorry, of course.

COKANE Certainly you cannot interfere. It would be in the most execrable taste.

LICKCHEESE Oh, gentlemen, youre young; and you dont know what loss of employment means to the like of me. What harm would it do you to help a poor man? Just listen to the circumstances, sir. I only —

TRENCH [moved, but snatching at an excuse for taking a high tone in avoiding the unpleasantness of helping him.] No: I had rather not. Excuse my saying plainly that I think Mr Sartorius is not a man to act hastily or harshly. I have always found him very fair and generous; and I believe he is a better judge of the circumstances than I am.

COKANE [inquisitive] I think you ought to hear the circumstances, Harry. It can do no harm. Hear the circumstances by all means.

LICKCHEESE Never mind, sir: it aint any use. When I hear that man called generous and fair! well, never mind.

TRENCH [severely] If you wish me to do anything for you, Mr Lickcheese, let me tell you that you are not going the right way about it in speaking ill of Mr Sartorius.

LICKCHEESE Have I said one word against him, sir? I leave it to your friend: Have I said a word?

COKANE True: True. Quite true. Harry: be just.

LICKCHEESE Mark my words, gentlemen: He’ll find what a man he’s lost the very first week’s rents the new man’ll bring him. Youll find the difference yourself, Dr Trench, if you or your children come into the property. Ive took money there when no other collector alive would have wrung it out. And this is the thanks I get for it! Why, see here, gentlemen! Look at that bag of money on the table. Hardly a penny of that but there was a hungry child crying for the bread it would have bought. But I got it for him, screwed and worried and bullied it out of them. I look here, gentlemen : I’m pretty seasoned to the work; but theres money there that I couldnt have taken if it hadnt been for the thought of my own children depending on me for giving him satisfaction. And because I charged him four-and-twenty shillin’ to mend a staircase that three women have been hurt on, and that would have got him prosecuted for manslaughter if it had been let go much longer, he gives me the sack. Wouldnt listen to a word, though I would have offered to make up the money out of my own pocket aye, and am willing to do it still if you will only put in a word for me.

TRENCH [aghast] You took money that ought to have fed starving children! Serve you right! If I had been the father of one of those children, I’d have given you something worse than the sack. I wouldnt say a word to save your soul, if you have such a thing. Mr Sartorius was quite right.

LICKCHEESE [Staring at him, surprised into contemptuous amusement in the midst of his anxiety.] Just listen to this! Well, you are an innocent young gentleman. Do you suppose he sacked me because I was too hard? Not a bit on it: It was because I wasnt hard enough. I never heard him say he was satisfied yet: No, nor he wouldnt, not if I skinned em alive, I dont say he’s the worst landlord in London: He couldnt be worse than some; but he’s no better than the worst I ever had to do with. And, though I say it, I’m better than the best collector he ever done business with. Ive screwed more and spent less on his properties than anyone would believe that knows what such properties are. I know my merits, Dr Trench, and will speak for myself if no one else will.

COKANE What description of properties? Houses?

LICKCHEESE Tenement houses, let from week to week by the room or half room aye, or quarter room. It pays when you know how to work it, sir. Nothing like it. It’s been calculated on the cubic foot of space, sir, that you can get higher rents letting by the room than you can for a mansion in Park Lane.

TRENCH I hope Mr Sartorius hasnt much of that sort of property, however it may pay.

LICKCHEESE He has nothing else, sir; and he shews his sense in it, too. Every few hundred pounds he could scrape together he bought old houses with houses that you wouldnt hardly look at without holding your nose. He has em in St Giles’s: He has em in Marylebone: He has em in Bethnal Green. Just look how he lives himself, and youll see the good of it to him. He likes a low death-rate and a gravel soil for himself, he does. You come down with me to Robbins’s Row; and I’ll shew you a soil and a death-rate, so I will! And, mind you, it’s me that makes it pay him so well. Catch him going down to collect his own rents! Not likely!

TRENCH Do you mean to say that all his property all his means come from this sort of thing?

LICKCHEESE Every penny of it, sir. [Trench, overwhelmed, has to sit down.]

COKANE [looking compassionately at him] Ah, my dear fellow, the love of money is the root of all evil.

LICKCHEESE Yes, sir; and we’d all like to have the tree growing in our garden.

COKANE [revolted] Mr Lickcheese: I did not address myself to you. I do not wish to be severe with you; but there is something peculiarly repugnant to my feelings in the calling of a rent collector.

LICKCHEESE It’s no worse than many another. I have my children looking to me.

COKANE True: I admit it. So has our friend Sartorius. His affection for his daughter is a redeeming point, a redeeming point, certainly.

LICKCHEESE She’s a lucky daughter, sir. Many another daughter has been turned out upon the streets to gratify his affection for her. Thats what business is, sir, you see. Come, sir: I think your friend will say a word for me now he knows I’m not in fault.

TRENCH [rising angrily] I will not. It’s a damnable business from beginning to end; and you deserve no better luck for helping in it. Ive seen it all among the outpatients at the hospital; and it used to make my blood boil to think that such things couldnt be prevented.

LICKCHEESE [his suppressed spleen breaking out] Oh indeed, sir. But I suppose youll take your share when you marry Miss Blanche, all the same. [Furiously] Which of us is the worse, I should like to know: Me that wrings the money out to keep a home over my children, or you that spend it and try to shove the blame on to me?

COKANE A most improper observation to address to a gentleman, Mr Lickcheese! A most revolutionary sentiment!

LICKCHEESE Perhaps so. But then Robbins’s Row aint a school for manners. You collect a week or two there youre welcome to my place if I cant keep it for myself and youll hear a little plain speaking, so you will.

COKANE [with dignity] Do you know to whom you are speaking, my good man?

LICKCHEESE [recklessly] I know well enough who I’m speaking to. What do I care for you, or a thousand such? I’m poor: Thats enough to make a rascal of me. No consideration for me, nothing to be got by saying a word for me! [Suddenly cringing to Trench] Just a word, sir. It would cost you nothing. [Sarforius appears at the door, unobserved.] Have some feeling for the poor.

TRENCH I’m afraid you have shewn very little, by your own confession.

LICKCHEESE [breaking out again] More than your precious father-in-law, anyhow. I — [Sartorius’s voice, striking in with deadly coldness, paralyzes him.]

SARTORIUS You will come here tomorrow, not later than ten, Mr Lickcheese, to conclude our business. I shall trouble you no further to-day. {Lickcheese, cowed, goes out amid dead silence. Sartorius continues, after an awkward pause] He is one of my agents, or rather was; for I have unfortunately had to dismiss him for repeatedly disregarding my instructions. [Trench says nothing. Sartorius throws off his embarrassment, and assumes a jocose, rallying air, unbecoming to him under any circumstances, and just now almost unbearably jarring.] Blanche will be down presently, Harry [Trench recoils] I suppose I must call you Harry now. What do you say to a stroll through the garden, Mr Cokane? We are celebrated here for our flowers.

COKANE Charmed, my dear sir, charmed. Life here is an idyll a perfect idyll. We were just dwelling on it.

SARTORIUS [slyly] Harry can follow with Blanche. She will be down directly.

TRENCH [hastily] No. I cant face her just now.

SARTORIUS [rallying him] Indeed! Ha, ha! [The laugh, the first they have heard from him, sets Trench’s teeth on edge. Cokane is taken aback, but instantly recovers himself.]

COKANE Ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho!

TRENCH But you dont understand.

SARTORIUS Oh, I think we do, I think we do. Eh, Mr Cokane? Ha! ha!

COKANE I should think we do. Ha! ha! ha!

[They go out together, laughing at him. He collapses into a chair, shuddering in every nerve. Blanche appears at the door. Her face lights up when she sees that he is alone. She trips noiselessly to the back of his chair and clasps her hands over his eyes. With a convulsive start and exclamation he springs up and breaks away from her.]

BLANCHE [astonished] Harry!

TRENCH [with distracted politeness] I beg your pardon. I was thinking wont you sit down?

BLANCHE [looking suspiciously at him] Is anything the matter? [She sits down slowly near the writing table. He takes Cokane’s chair.]

TRENCH No. Oh no.

BLANCHE Papa has not been disagreeable, I hope.

TRENCH No: I have hardly spoken to him since I was with you. [He rises; takes up his chair; and plants it beside hers. This pleases her better. She looks at him with her most winning smile. A sort of sob breaks from him; and he catches her hands and kisses them passionately. Then, looking into her eyes with intense earnestness, he says:] Blanche: are you fond of money?

BLANCHE [gaily] Very. Are you going to give me any?

TRENCH [wincing] Dont make a joke of it: I’m serious. Do you know that we shall be very poor?

BLANCHE Is that what made you look as if you had neuralgia?

TRENCH [pleadingly] My dear: it’s no laughing matter. Do you know that I have a bare seven hundred a year to live on?

BLANCHE How dreadful!

TRENCH Blanche: It’s very serious indeed: I assure you it is.

BLANCHE It would keep me rather short in my housekeeping, dearest boy, if I had nothing of my own. But papa has promised me that I shall be richer than ever when we are married.

TRENCH We must do the best we can with seven hundred. I think we ought to be self supporting.

BLANCHE Thats just what I mean to be, Harry. If I were to eat up half your £700, I should be making you twice as poor; but I’m going to make you twice as rich instead. [He shakes his head.] Has papa made any difficulty?

TRENCH [rising with a sigh and taking his chair back to its former place] No, none at all. [He sits down dejectedly. When Blanche speaks again her face and voice betray the beginning of a struggle with her temper.]

BLANCHE Harry : are you too proud to take money from my father?

TRENCH Yes, Blanche: I am too proud.

BLANCHE [after a pause] That is not nice to me, Harry.

TRENCH You must bear with me, Blanche. I — , I cant explain. After all, it’s very natural.

BLANCHE Has it occurred to you that I may be proud, too?

TRENCH Oh, thats nonsense. No one will accuse you of marrying for money.

BLANCHE No one would think the worse of me if I did, or of you either. [She rises and begins to walk restlessly about.] We really cannot live on seven hundred a year, Harry; and I dont think it quite fair of you to ask me merely because youre afraid of people talking.

TRENCH It’s not that alone, Blanche.

BLANCHE What else is it, then?

TRENCH Nothing. I —

BLANCHE [getting behind him, and speaking with forced playfulness as she bends over him, her hands on his shoulders] Of course it’s nothing. Now dont be absurd, Harry: be good; and listen to me: I know how to settle it. You are too proud to owe anything to me; and I am too proud to owe anything to you. You have seven hundred a year. Well, I will take just seven hundred a year from papa at first; and then we shall be quits. Now, now, Harry, you know youve not a word to say against that.

TRENCH It’s impossible.

BLANCHE Impossible!

TRENCH Yes, impossible. I have resolved not to take any money from your father.

BLANCHE But he’ll give the money to me, not to you.

TRENCH It’s the same thing. [With an effort to be sentimental] I love you too well to see any distinction. [He puts up his hand half-heartedly: she takes it over his shoulder with equal indecision. They are both trying hard to conciliate one another.]

BLANCHE Thats a very nice way of putting it, Harry; but I’m sure theres something I ought to know. Has papa been disagreeable?

TRENCH No : he has been very kind to me, at least. It’s not that. It’s nothing you can guess, Blanche. It would only pain you perhaps offend you. I dont mean, of course, that we shall live always on seven hundred a year. I intend to go at my profession in earnest, and work my fingers to the bone.

BLANCHE [playing with his fingers, still over his shoulder] But I shouldnt like you with your fingers worked to the bone, Harry. I must be told what the matter is. [He takes his hand quickly away: she flushes angrily; and her voice is no longer even an imitation of the voice of a lady as she exclaims:] I hate secrets; and I dont like to be treated as if I were a child.

TRENCH [annoyed by her tone] Theres nothing to tell. I dont choose to trespass on your father’s generosity: thats all.

BLANCHE You had no objection half an hour ago, when you met me in the hall, and shewed me all the letters. Your family doesnt object. Do you object?

TRENCH [earnestly] I do not indeed. It’s only a question of money.

BLANCHE [Imploringly, the voice softening and refining for the last time.] Harry: theres no use in our fencing in this way. Papa will never consent to my being absolutely dependent on you; and I dont like the idea of it myself. If you even mention such a thing to him you will break off the match: you will indeed.

TRENCH [obstinately] I cant help that.

BLANCHE [white with rage] You cant help! Oh, I’m beginning to understand. I will save you the trouble. You can tell papa that I have broken off the match; and then there will be no further difficulty.

TRENCH [taken aback] What do you mean, Blanche? Are you offended?

BLANCHE Offended! How dare you ask me?

TRENCH Dare!

BLANCHE How much more manly it would have been to confess that you were trifling with me that time on the Rhine! Why did you come here to-day? Why did you write to your people?

TRENCH Well, Blanche, if you are going to lose your temper —

BLANCHE Thats no answer. You depended on your family to get you out of your engagement; and they did not object: they were only too glad to be rid of you. You were not mean enough to stay away, and not manly enough to tell the truth. You thought you could provoke me to break the engagement: thats so like a man to try to put the woman in the wrong. Well, you have your way: I release you. I wish youd opened my eyes by downright brutality by striking me by anything rather than shuffling as you have done.

TRENCH [hotly] Shuffle! If I’d thought you capable of turning on me like this, I’d never have spoken to you. Ive a good mind never to speak to you again.

BLANCHE You shall not. not ever. I will take care of that [going to the door.]

TRENCH [alarmed] What are you going to do?

BLANCHE To get your letters, your false letters, and your presents, your hateful presents, to return them to you. I’m very glad it’s all broken off; and if — [as she puts her hand to the door it is opened from without by Sartorius, who enters and shuts it behind him.]

SARTORIUS [interrupting her severely] Hush, pray, Blanche : you are forgetting yourself: you can be heard all over the house. What is the matter?

BLANCHE [too angry to care whether she is overheard or not] You had better ask him. He has some excuse about money.

SARTORIUS Excuse! Excuse for what?

BLANCHE For throwing me over.

TRENCH [vehemently] I declare I never —

BLANCHE [interrupting him still more vehemently] You did. You did. You are doing nothing else [Trench begins repeating his contradiction and she her assertion; so that they both speak angrily together.]

SARTORIUS [in desperation at the noise] Silence! [Still more formidably] Silence! [They obey. He proceeds firmly] Blanche: you must control your temper : I will not have these repeated scenes within hearing of the servants. Dr Trench will answer for himself to me. You had better leave us. [He opens the door, and calls:] Mr Cokane: Will you kindly join us here.

COKANE [in the conservatory] Coming, my dear sir, coming. [He appears at the door.]

BLANCHE I’m sure I have no wish to stay. I hope I shall find you alone when I come back.

[An inarticulate exclamation bursts from Trench. She goes out, passing Cokane resentfully. He looks after her in surprise; then looks questioningly at the two men. Sartorius shuts the door with an angry stroke, and turns to Trench.]

SARTORIUS [aggressively] Sir —

TRENCH [interrupting him more aggressively] Well, sir?

COKANE [getting between them] Gently, dear boy, gently. Suavity, Harry, suavity.

SARTORIUS [mastering himself] If you have anything to say to me, Dr Trench, I will listen to you patiently. You will then allow me to say what I have to say on my part.

TRENCH [ashamed] I beg your pardon. Of course, yes. Fire away.

SARTORIUS May I take it that you have refused to fulfil your engagement with my daughter?

TRENCH Certainly not: your daughter has refused to fulfil her engagement with me. But the match is broken off, if thats what you mean.

SARTORIUS Dr Trench: I will be plain with you. I know that Blanche has a quick temper. It is part of her strong character and her physical courage, which is greater than that of most men, I can assure you. You must be prepared for that. If this quarrel is only Blanche’s temper, you may take my word for it that it will be over before tomorrow. But I understood from what she said just now that you have made some difficulty on the score of money.

TRENCH [with renewed excitement] It was Miss Sartorius who made the difficulty. I shouldnt have minded that so much, if it hadnt been for the things she said. She shewed that she doesnt care that [snapping his fingers] for me.

COKANE [soothingly] Dear boy —

TRENCH Hold your tongue, Billy: it’s enough to make a man wish he’d never seen a woman. Look here, Mr Sartorius: I put the matter to her as delicately and considerately as possible, never mentioning a word of my reasons, but just asking her to be content to live on my own little income; and yet she turned on me as if I’d behaved like a savage.

SARTORIUS Live on your income! Impossible: My daughter is accustomed to a proper establishment. Did I not expressly undertake to provide for that? Did she not tell you I promised her to do so?

TRENCH Yes, I know all about that, Mr Sartorius; and I’m greatly obliged to you; but I’d rather not take anything from you except Blanche herself.

SARTORIUS And why did you not say so before?

TRENCH No matter why. Let us drop the subject.

SARTORIUS No matter! But it does matter, sir. I insist on an answer. Why did you not say so before?

TRENCH I didnt know before.

SARTORIUS [provoked] Then you ought to have known your own mind before entering into such a very serious engagement. [He flings angrily away across the room and back.]

TRENCH [much injured] I ought to have known! Cokane: is this reasonable? [Cokane’s features are contorted by an air of judicial consideration; but he says nothing; and Trench again addresses Sartorius, this time with a marked diminution of respect]. How the deuce could I have known? You didnt tell me.

SARTORIUS You are trifling with me, sir. You say that you did not know your own mind before.

TRENCH I say nothing of the sort. I say that I did not know where your money came from before.

SARTORIUS That is not true, sir. I —

COKANE Gently, my dear sir. Gently, Harry, dear boy. Suaviter in modo: fort —

TRENCH Let him begin, then. What does he mean by attacking me in this fashion?

SARTORIUS Mr Cokane: you will bear me out. I was explicit on the point. I said I was a self-made man; and I am not ashamed of it.

TRENCH You are nothing of the sort. I found out this morning from your man Lickcheese, or whatever his confounded name is that your fortune has been made out of a parcel of unfortunate creatures that have hardly enough to keep body and soul together made by screwing, and bullying, and driving, and all sorts of pettifogging tyranny.

SARTORIUS [outraged] Sir! [They confront one another threateningly.]

COKANE [softly] Rent must be paid, dear boy. It is inevitable, Harry, inevitable.

[Trench turns away petulantly. Sartorius looks after him reflectively for a moment; then resumes his former deliberate and dignified manner, and addresses Trench with studied consideration, but with a perceptible condescension to his youth and folly.]

SARTORIUS I am afraid, Dr Trench, that you are a very young hand at business; and I am sorry I forgot that for a moment or so. May I ask you to suspend your judgment until we have a little quiet discussion of this sentimental notion of yours? if you will excuse me for calling it so. [He takes a chair, and motions Trench to another on his right.]

COKANE Very nicely put, my dear sir. Come, Harry: sit down and listen; and consider the matter calmly and judicially. Dont be headstrong.

TRENCH I have no objection to sit down and listen; but I dont see how that can make black white; and I am tired of being turned on as if I were in the wrong. [He sits down. Cokane sits at his elbow, on his right. They compose themselves for a conference.]

SARTORIUS I assume, to begin with, Dr Trench, that you are not a Socialist, or anything of that sort.

TRENCH Certainly not. I’m a Conservative — at least, if I ever took the trouble to vote, I should vote for the Conservative and against the other fellow.

COKANE True blue, Harry, true blue!

SARTORIUS I am glad to find that so far we are in perfect sympathy. I am, of course, a Conservative; not a narrow or prejudiced one, I hope, nor at all opposed to true progress, but still a sound Conservative. As to Lickcheese, I need say no more about him than that I have dismissed him from my service this morning for a breach of trust; and you will hardly accept his testimony as friendly or disinterested. As to my business, it is simply to provide homes suited to the small means of very poor people, who require roofs to shelter them just like other people. Do you suppose I can keep up those roofs for nothing?

TRENCH Yes: thats all very fine; but the point is, what sort of homes do you give them for their money? People must live somewhere, or else go to jail. Advantage is taken of that to make them pay for houses that are not fit for dogs. Why dont you build proper dwellings, and give fair value for the money you take?

SARTORIUS [pitying his innocence] My young friend: These poor people do not know how to live in proper dwellings: they would wreck them in a week. You doubt me: Try it for yourself. You are welcome to replace all the missing bannisters, handrails, cistern lids and dusthole tops at your own expense; and you will find them missing again in less than three days burnt, sir, every stick of them. I do not blame the poor creatures: They need fires, and often have no other way of getting them. But I really cannot spend pound after pound in repairs for them to pull down, when I can barely get them to pay me four and sixpence a week for a room, which is the recognized fair London rent. No, gentlemen: When people are very poor, you cannot help them, no matter how much you may sympathize with them. It does them more harm than good in the long run. I prefer to save my money in order to provide additional houses for the homeless, and to lay by a little for Blanche. [He looks at them. They are silent: Trench unconvinced, but talked down; Cokane humanely perplexed. Sartorius bends his brows; comes forward in his chair as if gathering himself together for a spring; and addresses himself, with impressive significance, to Trench.] And now, Dr Trench, may I ask what your income is derived from?

TRENCH {defiantly] From interest not from houses. My hands are clean as far as that goes. Interest on a mortgage.

SARTORIUS [forcibly] Yes: a mortgage on my property. When I, to use your own words, screw, and bully, and drive these people to pay what they have freely undertaken to pay me, I cannot touch one penny of the money they give me until I have first paid you your £700 out of it. What Lickcheese did for me, I do for you. He and I are alike intermediaries: you are the principal. It is because of the risks I run through the poverty of my tenants that you exact interest from me at the monstrous and exorbitant rate of seven per cent, forcing me to exact the uttermost farthing in my turn from the tenants. And yet, Dr Trench, you have not hesitated to speak contemptuously of me because I have applied my industry and forethought to the management of our property, and am maintaining it by the same honorable means.

COKANE [greatly relieved] Admirable, my dear sir, excellent! I felt instinctively that Trench was talking unpractical nonsense. Let us drop the subject, my dear boy: you only make an ass of yourself when you meddle in business matters. I told you it was inevitable.

TRENCH {dazed] Do you mean to say that I am just as bad as you are?

COKANE Shame, Harry, shame! Grossly bad taste! Be a gentleman. Apologize.

SARTORIUS Allow me, Mr Cokane. [To Trench] If, when you say you are just as bad as I am, you mean that you are just as powerless to alter the state of society, then you are unfortunately quite right. [Trench does not at once reply. He stares at Sartorius, and then hangs his head and gazes stupidly at the floor, morally beggared, with his clasped knuckles between his knees, a living picture of disillusion. Cokane comes sympathetically to him and puts an encouraging hand on his shoulder].

COKANE [gently] Come, Harry, come! Pull yourself together. You owe a word to Mr Sartorius.

TRENCH [Still stupefed, slowly unlaces his flngers; puts his hands on his knees, and lifts himself upright; pulls his waistcoat straight with a tug; and tries to take his disenchantment philosophically as he turns to Sartorius.] Well, people who live in glass houses have no right to throw stones. But, on my honor, I never knew that my house was a glass one until you pointed it out. I beg your pardon. [He offers his hand.]

SARTORIUS Say no more, Harry: your feelings do you credit: I assure you I feel exactly as you do, myself. Every man who has a heart must wish that a better state of things was practicable. But unhappily it is not.

TRENCH [a little consoled] I suppose not.

COKANE Not a doubt of it, my dear sir: Not a doubt of it. The increase of the population is at the bottom of it all.

SARTORIUS [to Trench] I trust I have convinced you that you need no more object to Blanche sharing my fortune, than I need object to her sharing yours.

TRENCH [with dull wistfulness] It seems so. We’re all in the same swim, it appears. I hope youll excuse my making such a fuss.

SARTORIUS Not another word. In fact, I thank you for refraining from explaining the nature of your scruples to Blanche: I admire that in you, Harry. Perhaps it will be as well to leave her in ignorance.

TRENCH [anxiously] But I must explain now. You saw how angry she was.

SARTORIUS You had better leave that to me. [He looks at his watch, and rings the bell.] Lunch is nearly due: While you are getting ready for it I can see Blanche; and I hope the result will be quite satisfactory to us all. [The parlor maid answers the bell: He addresses her with his habitual peremptoriness] Tell Miss Blanche I want her.

THE PARLOR MAID [her face falling expressively] Yes, sir. [She turns reluctantly to go.]

SARTORIUS [on second thoughts] Stop. [She stops.] My love to Miss Blanche; I am alone here and would like to see her for a moment if she is not busy.

PARLOR MAID [Much relieved] Yes, sir. [She goes out.]

SARTORIUS I will shew you your room, Harry. I hope you will soon be perfectly at home in it. You also, Mr Cokane, must learn your way about here. Let us go before Blanche comes. [He leads the way to the door.]

COKANE… [cheerily, following him] Our little discussion has given me quite an appetite.

TRENCH [moodily] It’s taken mine away. [They go out, Sartorius holding the door for them. He is following when the parlor maid reappears. She is a snivelling, sympathetic creature, and is on the verge of tears.]

SARTORIUS Well: Is Miss Blanche coming?

THE PARLOR MAID Yes, sir. I think so, sir.

SARTORIUS Wait here until she comes; and tell her that I will be back in a moment.

THE PARLOR MAID Yes, sir. [She comes into the room. Sartorius looks suspiciously at her as she passes him. He half closes the door and follows her.]

SARTORIUS [lowering his voice] Whats the matter with you?

THE PARLOR MAID [whimpering] Nothing, sir.

SARTORIUS [at the same pitch, more menacingly] Take care how you behave yourself when there are visitors present. Do you hear?

THE PARLOR MAID Yes, sir. [Sartorius goes out.]

SARTORIUS [outside] Excuse me: I had a word to say to the servant. [Trench is heard replying “Not at all” and Cokane “Dont mention it, my dear sir.” The murmur of their voices passes out of hearing. The parlor maid sniffs; dries her eyes; goes to one of the bookcases; and takes some brown paper and a ball of string from a drawer. She puts them on the table and wrestles with another sob. Blanche comes in, with a jewel box in her hands. Her expression is that of a strong and determined woman in an intense passion. The maid looks at her with a mixture of abject wounded affection and bodily terror.]

BLANCHE [looking round] Where’s my father?

THE PARLOR MAID [tremulously propitiatory] He left word he’d be back directly, miss. I’m sure he wont be long. Here’s the paper and string all ready, miss. [She spreads the paper on the table] Can I do the parcel for you, miss?

BLANCHE No. Mind your own business. [She empties the box on the sheet of brown paper. It contains a packet of letters and some jewellery. She plucks a ring from her finger and throws it down on the heap so angrily that it rolls away and falls on the carpet. The maid submissively picks it up and puts it on the table, again sniffing and drying her eyes.] What are you crying for?

THE PARLOR MAID [plaintively] You speak so brutal to me, Miss Blanche; and I do love you so. I’m sure no one else would stay and put up with what I have to put up with.

BLANCHE Then go. I dont want you. Do you hear. Go.

THE PARLOR MAID [piteously, falling on her knees] Oh no, Miss Blanche. Dont send me away from you: Dont.

BLANCHE [with fierce disgust] Agh! I hate the sight of you. [The maid, wounded to the heart, cries bitterly.] Hold your tongue. Are those two gentlemen gone?

THE PARLOR MAID [weeping] Oh, how could you say such a thing to me, Miss Blanche: Me that —

BLANCHE [seizing her by the hair and throat] Stop that noise, I tell you, unless you want me to kill you.

THE PARLOR MAID [protesting and imploring, but in a carefully subdued voice] Let me go, Miss Blanche: You know youll be sorry: You always are. Remember how dreadfully my head was cut last time.

BLANCHE [raging] Answer me, will you. Have they gone?

THE PARLOR MAID Lickcheese has gone, looking dreadf — [She breaks off with a stifled cry as Blanche’s fingers tighten furiously on her.]

BLANCHE Did I ask you about Lickcheese? You beast: You know who I mean: youre doing it on purpose.

‘THE PARLOR MAID [in a gasp] Theyre staying to lunch.

BLANCHE [looking intently into her face] He?

THE PARLOR MAID [whispering with a sympathetic nod] Yes, miss. [Blanche slowly releases her and stands upright with clenched fists and set face. The parlor maid, recognizing the passing of the crisis of passion, and fearing no further violence, sits discomfitedly on her heels, and tries to arrange her hair and cap, whimpering a little with exhaustion and soreness.] Now youve set my hands all trembling; and I shall jingle the things on the tray at lunch so that everybody will notice me. It’s too bad of you, Miss. [Sartorius coughs outside.]

BLANCHE [quickly] Sh! Get up. [The parlor maid hastily gets up, and goes out as demurely as she can, passing Sartorius on her way to the door. He glances sternly at her and comes to Blanche. The parlor maid shuts the door softly behind her]

SARTORIUS [mournfully] My dear: can you not make a little better fight with your temper?

BLANCHE [panting with the subsidence of her fit] No I cant. I wont. I do my best. Nobody who really cares for me gives me up because of my temper. I never shew my temper to any of the servants but that girl; and she is the only one that will stay with us.

SARTORIUS But, my dear, remember that we have to meet our visitors at luncheon presently. I have run down before them to say that I have arranged that little difficulty with Trench. It was only a piece of mischief made by Lickcheese. Trench is a young fool; but it is all right now.

BLANCHE I dont want to marry a fool.

SARTORIUS Then you will have to take a husband over thirty, Blanche. You must not expect too much, my child. You will be richer than your husband, and, I think, cleverer too. I am better pleased that it should be so.

BLANCHE [seizing his arm] Papa.

SARTORIUS Yes, my dear.

BLANCHE May I do as I like about this marriage; or must I do as you like?

SARTORIUS [uneasily] Blanche —

BLANCHE No, papa: You must answer me.

SARTORIUS [Abandoning his selfcontrol, and giving way recklessly to his affection for her] You shall do as you like now and always, my beloved child. I only wish to do as my own darling pleases.

BLANCHE Then I will not marry him. He has played fast and loose with me. He thinks us beneath him: He is ashamed of us: He dared to object to being benefited by you as if it were not natural for him to owe you everything; and yet the money tempted him after all. [She throws her arms hysterically about his neck] Papa: I dont want to marry: I only want to stay with you and be happy as we have always been. I hate the thought of being married: I dont care for him: I dont want to leave you. [Trench and Cokane come in; but she can hear nothing but her own voice and does not notice them.] Only send him away: Promise me that you will send him away and keep me here with you as we have always — [seeing Trench] Oh! [She hides her face on her father’s breast]

TRENCH [nervously] I hope we are not intruding.

SARTORIUS [formidably] Dr Trench: My daughter has changed her mind.

TRENCH [disconcerted] Am I to understand —

COKANE [striking in in his most vinegary manner] I think, Harry, under the circumstances, we have no alternative but to seek luncheon elsewhere.

TRENCH But, Mr Sartorius, have you explained?

SARTORIUS [straight in Trench’s face] I have explained, sir. Good morning. [Trench, outraged, advances a step. Blanche sinks away from her father into a chair. Sartorius stands his ground rigidly.]

TRENCH [turning away indignantly] Come on, Cokane.

COKANE Certainly, Harry, certainly. [Trench goes out, very angry. The parlor maid, with a tray jingling in her hands, passes outside. To Sartorius:] You have disappointed me, sir, very acutely. Good morning. [He follows Trench].