The Profligate 10
Don’t ask me to describe him in words, sir,--I can’t, I can’t. But I’ve
taught myself to draw his face faithfully. I’m not boasting--I can’t
draw anything else because I see nothing else. Give me some paper I can
sketch upon, and a pencil.
[_HUGH hands her paper and pencil, and watches while she sketches._]
HUGH MURRAY.
[_To himself._] If the face she sketches should bear any resemblance to
his, what could I do, what could I do?
JANET PREECE.
[_To herself._] That’s with his mocking look as I last saw him. He is
always mocking me now.
HUGH MURRAY.
[_To himself._] I could do nothing--it’s too late--nothing. Shall
I look now? No. What a coward I am! Yes. [_He looks over JANET’S
shoulder._] Renshaw! [_He struggles against his agitation._] The
wife! I must think of the wife. [_To JANET._] My poor child, the most
accurate portrait in the world is poor material towards hunting for a
man in this labyrinth of London.
JANET PREECE.
Oh, but take it. His face must be familiar to hundreds of men and women
in London. I know that he belongs to some of your great clubs and goes
to the race-meetings in grand style--he has told me so. And take
these. These papers tell you all about me and give an address where you
can write to me when you’ve traced him.
HUGH MURRAY.
I--I can’t undertake this search. It’s useless--it’s useless.
JANET PREECE.
No, no--don’t refuse to help me! Your face says you are clever--it’s
easy work for you. He isn’t in hiding; he is flaunting about in broad
sunlight in your fine parks, maybe with another poor simple girl on his
arm. Find him for me! He isn’t a murderer stealing along in the shadow
of walls at night-time--he is only a betrayer of women, and men don’t
hide for that!
HUGH MURRAY.
I--I’ll look through this bundle of papers. You shall hear from me
to-morrow.
[_He is showing JANET to the door when WILFRID enters._]
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
Oh, I’m so glad you’ve found your way here! How strange that we should
meet again!
JANET PREECE.
Yes. Thank you, thank you for your kindness. Good-bye! [_She goes
hurriedly from the room._]
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
There now! After my hurrying off on the chance of seeing her, and being
nearly run down in Holborn--only “thank you” and “good-bye!”
HUGH MURRAY.
Have they left the Registrar’s?
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
He was congratulating them when I stole away.
HUGH MURRAY.
[_To himself._] If the poor girl should come face to face with Renshaw
this morning!
[_HUGH looks out of the window._]
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
Come now, Mr. Murray, isn’t she sweet?
HUGH MURRAY.
Yes, yes. [_This to himself._] She is crossing the Inn.
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
And don’t you thank me for sending you such a pretty client?
HUGH MURRAY.
[_Turning away from the window._] She’s gone.
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
Do tell me about her. What’s her name? I should like to think of her by
some name.
HUGH MURRAY.
A lawyer talks of everything but his clients, my boy. So--your sister
is married, eh?
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
Married! She was married before one’s eyes became used to the darkness
of the gloomy little office.
HUGH MURRAY.
Married--fast married!
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
The older I grow the more positive I am that nothing in life takes any
time to speak of. You’re born in no time, you’re married in no time,
you live no time, you die in no time, you’re forgotten in no time----
HUGH MURRAY.
But you suffer all the time.
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
Suffer! Leslie and I intend never to suffer. We sat up together late
last night, hand in hand, and we entered into a compact that we’ll
remain to each other simple, light-hearted boy and girl for ever and
ever. That’s the way to be happy. Hark! [_He opens the door._] Here
they are! Hallo, Dunstan!
[_RENSHAW enters, followed by his man, WEAVER, who carries his
travelling coat and hat._]
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
It’s all over, Mr. Murray. Ha, ha! Leslie was on the verge of tears
because the Registrar wouldn’t read the Marriage Service. What do you
want, Weaver?
WEAVER.
If you mean to get to Cannon Street, to catch the 12.37 for Folkestone,
you haven’t any time to lose, sir.
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
Oh. [_To WILFRID._] Leslie is affixing her signature, with a great deal
of dignity, to some legal documents in the next room. Ask her to omit
the flourishes, Wilfrid; there’s a good fellow.
[_WILFRID goes quickly into the clerk’s office followed by WEAVER._]
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
[_Hums an air and yawns._] I say, Murray, if you ever marry, take my
advice--patronize the Registrar; the process is rapid and merciful.
HUGH MURRAY.
Mr. Renshaw, I don’t stand in need of your counsel on the question
of marriage, but less than half an hour ago you might with profit to
yourself have asked for mine.
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
What’s the matter? What’s wrong?
HUGH MURRAY.
I tell you to your face, you have done a cruel, a wanton act!
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
What do you mean?
HUGH MURRAY.
I know your past! I know that your mind is vicious and your heart
callous; and yet you have dared to join lives with a child whose
knowledge of evil is a blank and whose instincts are pure and
beautiful--God forgive you!
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
Mr. Murray, the tone you’re good enough to adopt deserves some special
recognition. But you’ve always, I understand, been very kind to Leslie,
and I don’t choose to dispute with one of her friends on her wedding
morning.
HUGH MURRAY.
You can’t dispute with me because there is no question of truth between
us!
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
Oh, as to my past, which you are pleased to wax mightily moral about,
well--I have taken the world as I found it----
HUGH MURRAY.
You chant the litany of these who rifle and wrong! You have simply
taken the world’s evil as you found it! I warn you!
DUNSTAN RENSHAW.
And I warn _you_ that you’ll do badly as a lawyer. Try the pulpit.
HUGH MURRAY.
I warn you! As surely as we now stand face to face, the c
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