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The curtain rises on the BARTHWICK'S dining-room, large, modern, and well furnished, the window curtains drawn. Electric light is burning. On the large round dining-table is set out a tray with whisky, a syphon, and a silver cigarette-box. It is past midnight. A fumbling is heard outside the door. It is opened suddenly, JACK BARTHWICK seems to fall into the room. He stands holding by the doorknob, staring before him, with a beatific smile. He is in evening dress and opera hat and carries in his hand a sky-blue velvet lady's reticule. His boyish face is freshly coloured and clean-shaven. An overcoat is hanging on his arm.
JACK. Hello! I've got home all right {Defiantly.} Who says I sh'd never 've opened th' door without 'sistance. {He staggers in, fumbling with the reticule. A lady's handkerchief and purse of crimson silk fall out.} Serve her joll' well right—everything droppin' out. Th' cat. I 've scored her off—I 've got her bag. {He swings the reticule.} Serves her joly' well right. {He takes a cigarette out of the silver box and puts it in his mouth.} Never gave tha' fellow anything! {He hunts through all his pockets and pulls a shilling out, it drops and rolls away. He looks for it.} Beastly shilling! {He looks again.} Base ingratitude! Absolutely nothing. {He laughs.} Mus' tell him I've got absolutely nothing.
{He lurches through the door and down a corridor, and presently returns, followed by JONES, who is advanced in liquor. JONES, about thirty years of age, has hollow cheeks, black circles round his eyes, and rusty clothes: He looks as though he might be unemployed, and enters in a hang-dog manner.}
JACK. Sh! sh! sh! Don't you make a noise, whatever you do. Shu' the door, an' have a drink. {Very solemnly.} You helped me to open the door—I 've got nothin, for you. This is my house. My father's name's Barthwick, he's Member of Parliament—Liberal Member of Parliament: I've told you that before. Have a drink! {He pours out whisky and drinks it up.} I'm not drunk {Subsiding on a sofa.} Tha's all right. Wha's your name? My name's Barthwick, so's my father's, I'm a Liberal too—wha're you?
JACK. Hello! I've got home all right {Defiantly.} Who says I sh'd never 've opened th' door without 'sistance. {He staggers in, fumbling with the reticule. A lady's handkerchief and purse of crimson silk fall out.} Serve her joll' well right—everything droppin' out. Th' cat. I 've scored her off—I 've got her bag. {He swings the reticule.} Serves her joly' well right. {He takes a cigarette out of the silver box and puts it in his mouth.} Never gave tha' fellow anything! {He hunts through all his pockets and pulls a shilling out, it drops and rolls away. He looks for it.} Beastly shilling! {He looks again.} Base ingratitude! Absolutely nothing. {He laughs.} Mus' tell him I've got absolutely nothing.
{He lurches through the door and down a corridor, and presently returns, followed by JONES, who is advanced in liquor. JONES, about thirty years of age, has hollow cheeks, black circles round his eyes, and rusty clothes: He looks as though he might be unemployed, and enters in a hang-dog manner.}
JACK. Sh! sh! sh! Don't you make a noise, whatever you do. Shu' the door, an' have a drink. {Very solemnly.} You helped me to open the door—I 've got nothin, for you. This is my house. My father's name's Barthwick, he's Member of Parliament—Liberal Member of Parliament: I've told you that before. Have a drink! {He pours out whisky and drinks it up.} I'm not drunk {Subsiding on a sofa.} Tha's all right. Wha's your name? My name's Barthwick, so's my father's, I'm a Liberal too—wha're you?
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- SeriesPlays (Galsworthy) #1