LITMIR.BIZ

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roll up. [With a touch of enthusiasm] Dark horse, Miss Maud, at twenty to one.

      MAUD. Put me ten bob on, Topping. I want all the money I can get, just now.

      TOPPING. You're not the first, Miss.

      MAUD. I say, Topping, do you know anything about the film?

      TOPPING. [Nodding] Rather a specialty of mine, Miss.

      MAUD. Well, just stand there, and give me your opinion of this.

      TOPPING moves down Left. She crouches over the typewriter, lets her hands play on the keys; stops; assumes that listening, furtive look; listens again, and lets her head go slowly round, preceded by her eyes; breaks it off, and says:

      What should you say I was?

      TOPPING. Guilty, Miss.

      MAUD. [With triumph] There! Then you think I've got it?

      TOPPING. Well, of course, I couldn't say just what sort of a crime you'd committed, but I should think pretty 'ot stuff.

      MAUD. Yes; I've got them here. [She pats her chest].

      TOPPING. Really, Miss.

      MAUD. Yes. There's just one point, Topping; it's psychological.

      TOPPING. Indeed, Miss?

      MAUD. Should I naturally put my hand on them; or would there be a reaction quick enough to stop me? You see, I'm alone—and the point is whether the fear of being seen would stop me although I knew I couldn't be seen. It's rather subtle.

      TOPPING. I think there's be a rehaction, Miss.

      MAUD. So do I. To touch them [She clasps her chest] is a bit obvious, isn't it?

      TOPPING. If the haudience knows you've got 'em there.

      MAUD. Oh! yes, it's seen me put them. Look here, I'll show you that too.

      She opens an imaginary drawer, takes out some bits of sealing-wax, and with every circumstance of stealth in face and hands, conceals them in her bosom.

      All right?

      TOPPING. [Nodding] Fine, Miss. You have got a film face. What are they, if I may ask?

      MAUD. [Reproducing the sealing-wax] The Fanshawe diamonds. There's just one thing here too, Topping.

      In real life, which should I naturally do—put them in here [She touches her chest] or in my bag?

      TOPPING. [Touching his waistcoat—earnestly] Well! To put 'em in here, Miss, I should say is more—more pishchological.

      MAUD. [Subduing her lips] Yes; but—

      TOPPING. You see, then you've got 'em on you.

      MAUD. But that's just the point. Shouldn't I naturally think: Safer in my bag; then I can pretend somebody put them there. You see, nobody could put them on me.

      TOPPING. Well, I should say that depends on your character. Of course I don't know what your character is.

      MAUD. No; that's the beastly part of it—the author doesn't, either. It's all left to me.

      TOPPING. In that case, I should please myself, Miss. To put 'em in 'ere's warmer.

      MAUD. Yes, I think you're right. It's more human.

      TOPPING. I didn't know you 'ad a taste this way, Miss Maud.

      MAUD. More than a taste, Topping—a talent.

      TOPPING. Well, in my belief, we all have a vice about us somewhere. But if I were you, Miss, I wouldn't touch bettin', not with this other on you. You might get to feel a bit crowded.

      MAUD. Well, then, only put the ten bob on if you're sure he's going to win. You can post the money on after me. I'll send you an address, Topping, because I shan't be here.

      TOPPING. [Disturbed] What! You're not going, too, Miss Maud?

      MAUD. To seek my fortune.

      TOPPING. Oh! Hang it all, Miss, think of what you'll leave behind. Miss Athene's leavin' home has made it pretty steep, but this'll touch bottom—this will.

      MAUD. Yes; I expect you'll find it rather difficult for a bit when I'm gone. Miss Baldini, you know. I've been studying with her. She's got me this chance with the movie people. I'm going on trial as the guilty typist in "The Heartache of Miranda."

      TOPPING. [Surprised out of politeness] Well, I never! That does sound like 'em! Are you goin' to tell the guv'nor, Miss?

      MAUD nods. In that case, I think I'll be gettin' off to my dentist before the band plays.

      MAUD. All right, Topping; hope you won't lose a tooth.

      TOPPING. [With a grin] It's on the knees of the gods, Miss, as they say in the headlines.

      He goes. MAUD stretches herself and listens.

      MAUD. I believe that's them. Shivery funky.

      She runs off up Left.

      BUILDER. [Entering from the hall and crossing to the fireplace] Monstrous! Really monstrous!

      CAMILLE enters from the hall. She has a little collecting book in her hand.

      BUILDER. Well, Camille?

      CAMILLE. A sistare from the Sacred 'Eart, Monsieur—her little book for the orphan children.

      BUILDER. I can't be bothered—What is it?

      CAMILLE. Orphan, Monsieur.

      BUILDER. H'm! Well! [Feeling in his breast pocket] Give her that.

      He hands her a five-pound note.

      CAMILLE. I am sure she will be veree grateful for the poor little beggars. Madame says she will not be coming to lunch, Monsieur.

      BUILDER. I don't want any, either. Tell Topping I'll have some coffee.

      CAMILLE. Topping has gone to the dentist, Monsieur; 'e 'as the toothache.

      BUILDER. Toothache—poor devil! H'm! I'm expecting my brother, but I don't know that I can see him.

      CAMILLE. No, Monsieur?

      BUILDER. Ask your mistress to come here.

      He looks up, and catching her eye, looks away.

      CAMILLE. Yes, Monsieur.

      As she turns he looks swiftly at her, sweeping her up and down. She turns her head and catches his glance, which is swiftly dropped. Will Monsieur not 'ave anything to eat?

      BUILDER. [Shaking his head-abruptly] No. Bring the coffee!

      CAMILLE. Is Monsieur not well?

      BUILDER. Yes—quite well.

      CAMILLE. [Sweetening her eyes] A cutlet soubise? No?

      BUILDER. [With a faint response in his eyes, instantly subdued] Nothing! nothing!

      CAMILLE. And Madame nothing too—Tt! Tt! With her hand on the door she looks back, again catches his eyes in an engagement instantly broken off, and goes out.

      BUILDER. [Stock-still, and staring at the door] That girl's a continual irritation to me! She's dangerous! What a life! I believe that girl—

      The door Left is opened and MRS BUILDER comes in.

      BUILDER. There's some coffee coming; do your head good. Look here, Julia. I'm sorry I beat on that door. I apologize. I was in a towering passion. I wish I didn't get into these rages. But—dash it all—! I couldn't walk away and leave you there.

      MRS BUILDER. Why not?

      BUILDER. You keep everything to yourself, so; I never have any notion what you're thinking. What did you say to her?

      MRS BUILDER. Told her it would never work.

      BUILDER. Well, that's something. She's crazy. D'you suppose she was telling the truth about that young blackguard wanting to marry her?

      MRS BUILDER. I'm sure of it.

      BUILDER. When you think of how she's been brought up. You would have thought that religion alone—

      MRS

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