Landed Gentry. W. Somerset Maugham
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That’s all very fine and large, but I’m afraid Peggy can’t stay on here, Gann.
Gann.
Why not?
Claude.
You know the rule of the estate as well as I do. When a girl gets into a mess she has to go.
Gann.
It’s a wicked rule!
Claude.
You never thought so before, and this isn’t the first time you’ve seen it applied, by a long chalk.
Gann.
The girl went away once and come to grief. She wellnigh killed herself with the shame of it. I’m not going to let ’er out of my sight again.
Claude.
I’m afraid I can’t make an exception in your favour, Gann.
Gann.
[Desperately.] Where’s she to go to?
Claude.
Oh, I expect she’ll be able to get a job somewhere. Mrs. Insoley’ll do all she can.
Gann.
It’s no good, Squire. I can’t let ’er go. I want ’er.
Claude.
I don’t want to be unreasonable. I’ll give you a certain amount of time to make arrangements.
Gann.
Time’s no good to me. I haven’t the ’eart to send her away.
Claude.
I’m afraid it’s not a question of whether you like it or not. You must do as you’re told.
Gann.
I can’t part with her, and there’s an end of it.
Claude.
You’d better go and talk it over with your wife.
Gann.
I don’t want to talk it over with anyone. I’ve made up my mind.
[Claude is silent for a moment. He looks at Gann thoughtfully.
Claude.
[Deliberately.] I’ll give you twenty-four hours to think about it.
Gann.
[Startled.] What d’you mean by that, sir?
Claude.
If Peggy isn’t gone by that time, I am afraid I shall have to send you away.
Gann.
You wouldn’t do that, sir? You couldn’t do it, Squire, not after all these years.
Claude.
We’ll soon see about that, my friend.
Gann.
You can’t dismiss me for that. I’ll have the law of you. I’ll sue you for wrongful dismissal.
Claude.
You can do what you damned well like; but if Peggy hasn’t gone by to-morrow night I shall turn you off the estate on Tuesday.
Gann.
[Hoarsely.] You wouldn’t do it! You couldn’t do it.
[There is a sound of talking and laughter, and of a general movement as the dining-room door is opened.
Claude.
They’re just coming in. You’d better hook it.
[Miss Vernon and Edith Lewis come in, followed by Grace. For a moment Gann stands awkwardly, and then leaves the room. Miss Vernon is a slight, faded, rather gaunt woman of thirty-five. Her deliberate manner, her composure, suggest a woman of means and a woman who knows her own mind. Edith Lewis is a pretty girl of twenty. Grace is thirty. She is a beautiful creature with an eager, earnest face and fine eyes. She has a restless manner, and her frequent laughter strikes you as forced. She is always falling from one emotion to another. She uses a slightly satirical note when she speaks to her husband.
Edith.
[Going to the window.] Oh, what a lovely night! Do let’s go out. [To Grace.] May we?
Grace.
Of course, if you want to.
Edith.
I’m perfectly sick with envy every time I look out of the window. Those lovely old trees!
Grace.
I wonder if you’d be sick with envy if you looked at nothing else for forty-six weeks in the year?
Edith.
I adore the country.
Grace.
People who habitually live in London generally do.
Miss Vernon.
Aren’t you fond of the country?
Grace.
[Vehemently.] I hate it! I hate it with all my heart and soul.
Claude.
My dear Grace, what are you saying?
Grace.
It bores me. It bores me stiff. Those endless trees, and those dreary meadows, and those ploughed fields. Oh!
Edith.
I don’t think I could ever get tired of the view from your dining-room.
Grace.
Not if you saw it for three meals a day for ten years? Oh, my dear, you don’t know what that view is like at an early breakfast on a winter’s morning. You sit there looking at it, with icy fingers, wondering if your nose is red, while your husband reads morning prayers, because his father read morning prayers before him; and the sky looks as if it were going to sink down and crush you.
Claude.
You can’t expect sunshine all the year round, can you?
Grace.
[Smiling.] True, O King!
Edith.
Well, I’m a Cockney, and I feel inclined to fall down on my very knees and worship those big trees in your park. Oh, what a night!
Miss Vernon.
In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees
And they did make no noise. …
[Miss Vernon and Edith Lewis go out. Grace is left alone with her husband.
Grace.
What on earth was Gann doing here?
Claude.
I had something to say to him.
Grace.
May I know what?
Claude.
It would only bore you.
Grace.
That wouldn’t be a new experience.
Claude.
I say, you’re looking jolly to-night, darling.
Grace.
It’s kind of you to say so.
Claude.
Were you pleased