The 'Mind the Paint' Girl - Arthur Wing Pinero (free children's online books TXT) š
- Author: Arthur Wing Pinero
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Jeyes.
Forlornly. Rhodesia! Bulawayo! Looking up at her again with a dismal smile. Come with me?
Lily.
Donāt be absurd.
Jeyes.
Rising and putting his hands upon her shoulders. No, you wouldnāt care a strawānot a brass farthingāif I did go, would yer!
Lily.
Softening again. Stuff! I should miss you horribly. Toying with a button of his waistcoat. Whoād bring me home from the theatre at night then, and from rehearsals; whoāā?
Jeyes.
Ah, who! His grip tightening on her. Who!
Lily.
Wincing. Ssss! Youāll bruise my skin if youāre not careful.
Jeyes.
Taking her hand and crumpling it in his. Well, it might be that youād miss me for a whileāthe old dog that youāre accustomed to find lying on your door-mat; pressing her hand to his lips but you donāt love me, Lilānot even as much as you did a year ago. You donāt love me!
Lily.
With a faint shrug of her shoulders. Perhaps I donāt, in the way you mean; wistfully perhaps itās not in me really to love anybody in a marrying way. Meeting his eyes. Still, as you sayāā
Jeyes.
As I sayāā?
Lily.
Pursing her mouth at him winningly. Iām accustomed to you, Nicko. He draws her to him; but, with a laugh, she checks him by offering him her head to kiss. Thereā putting the point of her finger playfully on the crown of her head you may there. As he kisses her. Now I must run upstairs, or motherāll whack me.
Jeyes.
Detaining her. Wonāt you allow me to fetch you after the dance?
Lily.
Three or four in the morning! No; Iāll give you a rest. Uncle Lal or Samāll take on your job. Going to the door. And donāt try to see me to-morrow.
Jeyes.
Sharply. Why not?
Lily.
Not till you turn up at night as usual. I shall be a shocking rag all day.
Jeyes.
Breaking out. Yes, I expect youāll manage to enjoy yourself thoroughly, and dance yourself off your feet, whoever your partners may be!
Lily.
Wilfully. Expect I shall. Tossing her head up. Ha, ha! Iāll do my best.
She departs, leaving him standing near the tea-table. He takes out his handkerchief and mops his brow. As he does so, his eyes rest upon the telephone-instrument on the writing-table and he stares at it. He hesitates, as if struggling to resist an impulse; then he goes quickly to the instrument and puts the receiver to his ear.
Jeyes.
After a pause. Gerrard, three, eight, four, eight. Discovering that Lily has left the door wide open, he lays the receiver upon the writing-table and goes to the door and shuts it. Then he returns to the writing-table and again listens at the receiver. Is that the office of the Pandora Theatre?... Suddenly, imitating the voice of de Castro. Ith Mithter Morrith Cooling in?... Iām Mithter de Castro ... Tham de Castro ... Gone, ith he?... Oh, ith that you, Mithter Hickthon?... Yeth, youāll do ... About the thupper-party to-night that Mithter Smythe ith giving to Mith Parradell ... Yer there?... I didnāt quite underthtand whether ith to be at the theatre or at a rethtaurong ... At the theatre?... Oh, yeth ... A largth party?... Oh, that ith nithe!... Who are the guesth, dāye know?... Yeth?... Yeth?... Oh, anā the boyth!... oh, thome oā the boyth are cominā, are they!... Hey?... Havenāt got the litht from Mithter Roper yet?... Oh, heāth been helpinā to get it up!... Oh, we shall have a thplendid time!... The boyth!... Yeth!... Yeth!... ha, ha, ha, ha!... thankth.... gooābye!
He replaces the receiver and stands looking at the door for a moment. Then, with his head bent and his hands clasped behind him, he goes slowly out.
END OF THE FIRST ACT. THE SECOND ACTThe scene is an artistically decorated refreshment-saloonāor āfoyerāāon the first-circle floor of a theatre. The wall facing the spectator is panelled partly in glass, and through the glazed panels the corridor behind the circle, and the doors admitting to the circle, are seen. The right-hand wall is panelled in a similar way, showing the landing at the top of the principal staircase and an entrance to the corridor. Some music-stands and stools are on the landing, arranged for a small orchestra.
In the right-hand wall there is a double swing-door giving on to the landing; and in the wall at the back, opening on to, and from, the corridor, there is a single swing-door on the left and another on the right. The left-hand door is fastened back into the saloon by a hook. Between the two doors in the back wall runs the refreshment-counter.
In one of the further corners of the saloon there is a plaster statue representing the Muse of Comedy, in the opposite corner a companion figure of Dancing. In the wall on the left, the grate hidden by flowers, is a fireplace with a fender-stool before it, and on either side of the fireplace there is a capacious and richly upholstered arm-chair. A settee of like design stands against the wall on the right between the double-door and the spectator.
The counter is decked-out as a sideboard, and at equal distances from each other there are four round tables laid for a supper-party of twenty-six persons. There are eight chairs at one table and six at each of the others, the chairs being of the sort usually supplied by ball-caterers.
The saloon and the landing without are brilliantly lighted, the corridor less brightly.
Luigi and four waitersāone of whom has a curly head and a fair beard ending in two flamboyant pointsāare putting the finishing touches to the laying of the tables, while Morris Cooling, a person of imposing presence displaying a vast expanse of shirt-front, is engaged in placing upon each of the serviettes a card bearing the name of a guest.
Cooling.
Referring to a plan of the tables which he has in his hand. Miss ConnifyāMiss ConnifyāMiss Connifyāwhereās Miss Connify? Ah, here you are, my dearā moving to Miss Connifyās chair and putting a card upon her serviette next to old Arthur.
The four waiters, obeying a direction in dumb-show from Luigi, go out at the door on the left.
Luigi.
A little, dark, active manāviewing the tables with satisfaction. Tables look nice, Mr. Cooling?
Cooling.
Absorbed. Not badānot badānot bad. Luigi follows the waiters. Miss Kato? Moving to another table and laying a card upon a serviette. Gabrielle.
Roper bustles in through the double-door, in high feather.
Roper.
Hul-lo! Cutting a caper. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and how are you to-morrow!
Cooling.
Deep in his plan of the tables. Hullo, Lal!
Roper.
Surveying the tables. Splendid! Going from one table to another. Seating āem, hey?
Cooling.
Mr. PalkāMr. PalkāMr. Palk? Placing another card. Albert.
Roper.
Which dāye make your principal table?
Cooling.
There it is; youāre at it.
Roper.
Ah, yes. Examining the cards. āMiss Lily Parradellāā! His jaw falling. Why, youāve gone and put the Baron on her right!
Cooling.
Unconsciously. Well, whatās the objection?
Roper.
Whereās Farncombe? Whereās Lord Farncombe?
Cooling.
On the other side, with Dolly Stidulph and Enid.
Roper.
Rats!
Cooling.
What do you mean by Rats? Advancing to the principal tableānettled. Look heah, Lalāā!
Roper.
My dear fellow, Miss Parradell is the heroine oā the party; the seat next to her is the seat of honour.
Cooling.
Thatās why Iāve put the Baron there. With things as they are between England and Germanyāā
Roper.
If Germany doesnāt like it, she must lump it. Lord Farncombeās the eldest son of an Earl; you canāt get over that.
Cooling.
Picking up Farncombeās card. Oh, have it your own way.
Roper.
Picking up Von Rettenmayerās card. Besides, the Baronās sweet on Enid just now; Iām sure heād preferā They exchange the cards and rearrange them. thanks, olā man. Sorry I was shirty.
Cooling.
Laying down his plan and cards and producing a letter from his breast-pocket. By-the-bye, the fair Lilyāthe heroine of the party, as you call herāis in a pretty tantrum over the whole business.
Roper.
Tantrum?
Cooling.
Unfolding the letter. Had this from her ten minutes ago. Listen to this. Reading. āMy Dressing-room. 11-15. 80 degrees, with the windows open.ā In an injured tone. Haw, so I should think!
Roper.
Concerned. Whatās amiss?
Cooling.
Reading. āMorrie, you pig.ā Roper whistles. āMorrie, you pig. I should feel deeply indebted to you if you would kindly inform me why the devil you went out of your way to deceive me last night. You led me to supposeāand so did that lying worm Lal Roperāāā looking at Roper You.
Roper.
Oh, lord!
Cooling.
Resuming. āāthat lying worm Lal Roperāāā
Roper.
Testily. All right, all right.
Cooling.
āāyou both led me to suppose that this rotten banquet was to be a family gathering of the ladies and gentlemen of the Pandora Theatre, and no outsiders asked. Now I find that only three or four of the men of the Company are invited, and I hear from Nita Trevenna, who has got it from young Kennedy, that several of the Boys are to be laid on for the occasion. The result is you have made me tell a regular whopper to a particular friend of mine with regard to this affairāāā
Roper.
Passing his hand over his brow. Nicko Jeyes.
Cooling.
āāwhich I will never forgive you for, Morris Coolingāneither you nor Lal Roper. As true as I am alive, I have a jolly good mind not to show, but to put on my old rags and go straight home. You are two cads. So take it out of that and believe me, Always yours affectionately, Lil.ā
Roper.
Walking about. Well, Iām blessed!
Cooling.
Returning the letter to his pocket. Haw! Tasty document!
Roper.
Lying worm and a cad! And from Miss Lily Margaret Upjohn! To Cooling. Done anything about it?
Cooling.
No; waited for you. Going on with his arrangements at the tables. Youāre responsible. What I did last night was simply to oblige a pal.
Roper.
Irresolutely. Iād better run round to her, and try to smooth her down, hadnāt I?
Cooling.
Perhaps you had. Placing a card. Mr. Stewart Heneage. To Roper. Why you wanted to mislead the girl I canāt understand.
Roper.
Damn it, you agreed that that sulky brute Jeyes āud be a wet blanket! You blow hot and cold, you do!
Cooling.
There you go! More filthy temper!
Roper.
If ever I assist in getting up another partyāā! As he reaches the door on the left, he encounters Carlton Smythe, who is entering at that moment, and puts on his humourous manner. Hul-lo! Here we are again! All change for Oxford Circus!
Smythe.
A bulky, sleepy-looking man with grey hair, a darker moustache and beard, and a heavy, rolling gait. Ha, Lal!
Roper.
Iām just going to have a word with Lil Parradell.
He disappears and Smythe advances.
Cooling.
Approaching Smythe. How are you to-night, Chief?
Smythe.
A silk hat on the back of his head, an overcoat on his armāregarding the preparations with disgust. Puh! Hereās a muck and a muddle!
Cooling.
Donāt worry; weāll clear it away in no time. Shall I tell you who are coming?
Smythe.
No; I shall know soon enough. What was the house to-night?
Cooling.
Producing a long slip of paper and handing it to Smythe. Big. Smythe scans the paper through half-closed lids and gives a growl of contentment. Haw! And the weather dead against us.
Smythe.
Screwing up the paper, and cramming it into his waistcoat-pocket. Thereās no bad weather for
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