2015년 8월 26일 수요일

The Profligate 18

The Profligate 18


Oh! the carriage! [_She runs quickly to the balustrade and looks out
into the distance._] It’s there! [_She beckons thrice._] Dunstan--come
back to me! Come back to me!
 
 
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
 
 
 
 
THE THIRD ACT.
 
THE END OF THE HONEYMOON.
 
 
_The scene is still the RENSHAWS’ Florentine villa. JANET PREECE is
lying upon a sofa, and WILFRID is sitting on a footstool by her
side reading to her._
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
Miss Preece, I hope you’re tired of my reading.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Why?
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
Because you’ve heard all that Galignani has to remark.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
I’m afraid I haven’t heard much.
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
Not heard much! oh!
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Not much of Galignani. I’ve never been read to before, and I only
know that your kind voice has been rising and falling and rising and
falling, and all for me. I didn’t want to hear the words.
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
By Jove! You’re quite yourself this morning, aren’t you?
 
JANET PREECE.
 
No--not myself. I feel so happy. But I am dreadfully puzzled. Tell
me--have I been very ill?
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
[_Holding her hand._] Just near enough to brain fever to be able to say
“How do you do?” to it and go off in another direction.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Have I been ill long?
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
Long enough to make me--to make us desperately anxious.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
How long is that?
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
Three days.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Three days--three days. How strange to have lost three days out of
one’s life! I seem to have died and to have come into a beautiful new
world.
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
That’s a great compliment to the Villa Colobiano and its mistress.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Ah, she is the Angel of my new world!
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
One angel is very little to do all the work of a beautiful new world.
 
[_JANET timidly withdraws her hand._]
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Oh, she has her brother to help her, of course.
 
[_LESLIE enters, and JANET embraces her._]
 
LESLIE.
 
The post brought me a letter from my dear one--my husband--and I hid
myself away to read it.
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
When does Dun start for home, Les?
 
LESLIE.
 
I don’t know; this was written the day before yesterday.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Your husband? You--you are married?
 
LESLIE.
 
Married! Ah, I forget that my poor invalid knows nothing about her
nurse. Let me tell you. I mustn’t blame you for not guessing it; but I
am that exceedingly important person, a newly-married lady. I am Mrs.
Renshaw.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
[_Taking LESLIE’S hand._] Mrs.--Renshaw. I shall say the name to
myself over and over again that I may seem to have known you longer.
Mrs.--Renshaw.
 
LESLIE.
 
Yes, and my husband is in Rome preparing our first real home. You will
see him soon--oh, I hope very soon.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
I should like to see one who is so precious to you, of course--only----
 
LESLIE.
 
Only--what?
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Only I know that when your dear companion comes back I shall lose you.
 
LESLIE.
 
Hush, hush! You mustn’t distress yourself; you will be ill again.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
I would be ill again, gladly, if I could see your face constantly
bending over me as I have seen it for the last three days. Oh, Mrs.
Renshaw, why have you been so good to me, a stranger?
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
I say, Leslie, aren’t Dun’s letters furious about Mrs. Stonehay’s bad
behaviour?
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Mrs. Stonehay! I can’t go back to her! Oh, don’t send me back to Mrs.
Stonehay! Oh, don’t, please don’t!
 
LESLIE.
 
No, dear, no--of course not. [_To WILFRID._] Why, I haven’t written a
word to Dun about our little visitor and Mrs. Stonehay’s resentment at
our sheltering her. If I had, the dear fellow would have flown home to
fight my battles for me, and left his business unfinished. I know Dun.
 
JANET PREECE.
 
Mrs. Stonehay’s resentment at your giving me shelter! Oh, why should
she be so cruel to me!
 
LESLIE.
 
Hush, dear--it is Mrs. Stonehay’s nature to be jealous and arrogant.
When she discovered that her dependent, as she called you, was
installed here as my friend, she indignantly reproached me for enticing
you from her service.
 
WILFRID BRUDENELL.
 
I never saw a woman so angry. I had the honour of bowing her out at the
front door, and she declared she shook the dust of the Villa Colobiano
from her feet; luckily, it was only a figure of speech, for her feet are very large.

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