The 'Mind the Paint' Girl by Arthur Wing Pinero (i am malala young readers edition TXT) 📖

his chin and a cap drawn down to his brows. His face is white and his jaws are set determinedly. How—how have you got in? He produces a bunch of keys and grimly displays a latch-key. Oh—oh——! Pulling off his cap, Jeyes advances to the table in the centre, glaring at Farncombe. Lily closes the door sharply and also advances, speaking volubly to Farncombe as she comes forward. Captain Jeyes is in the habit of bringing me home from the theatre after my work; and a long while ago I gave him a latch-key to carry on his key-ring, so that he could let me into my house whenever I’d forgotten my own key. He hasn’t the slightest right to use it at any other time; nobody knows that better than he does. It’s a confounded liberty! To Jeyes, hotly. What are you doing here at all at this hour of the morning?

Jeyes.

After an expressive glance at Farncombe. An odd question, in the circumstances.

Lily.

Answer me!

Jeyes.

Keeping an eye on you.

Lily.

Spying on me!

Jeyes.

On you— jerking his head towards Farncombe and——

Lily.

How dare you!

Jeyes.

I’ve been at it all night.

Lily.

All night!

Jeyes.

Yes; I was in the theatre while you were supping and dancing.

Lily.

You were!

Jeyes.

I meant to be there. You did your best to stop it——

Lily.

That’s a lie!

Jeyes.

So that you could enjoy yourself thoroughly— glancing at Farncombe again with——

Lily.

A lie!

Jeyes.

I didn’t leave till past three. You and— with another motion of the head towards Farncombe had just had your fifth dance together, and they were hauling you round the building.

Lily.

Where were you? Who——?

Jeyes.

Excuse me; that’s my business. Then I went back to Jermyn Street, and it suddenly struck me I’d like to see how your escort was composed.

Lily.

You’ve been watching outside?

Jeyes.

Since a quarter-to-four—under the portico at the corner.

Lily.

Contemptuously. You——!

Jeyes.

Yes, but, by God, I wasn’t quite prepared for this!

Lily.

This!

Jeyes.

Cramming his cap into his overcoat-pocket and coming to Farncombe. What the hell’s your game? You’ve got some accommodating friends, both of you, in that blackguard Roper and that slut Jimmie Birch!

Lily.

Oh—! Approaching Jeyes with clenched fists. Ah, you cur——!

Farncombe.

Holding up his hand to her appealingly. Miss Parradell——!

Lily.

To Jeyes. You cur! Mother’s been told that Lord Farncombe’s with me. I sent Jimmie up to tell her.

Jeyes.

Where is your mother?

Lily.

In bed, of course.

Jeyes.

Snoring! Ha, ha, ha! Faugh, there’s an ugly name, my girl, for such mothers as yours!

Lily.

Ah—! Raising her fist. Ah-h-h-h——!

Farncombe.

Miss Parradell——!

Lily.

Restraining herself with difficulty and pacing the room. Oh, the cur! The cur! The cur!

Farncombe.

To Jeyes, looking at him steadily. Captain Jeyes——

Lily.

The low cur!

Farncombe.

Captain Jeyes, do you happen to know where I lodge?

Jeyes.

No; I don’t know where your sty is.

Farncombe.

St. James’s Place—forty-seven. I shall be in at twelve o’clock. Picking up his hat and overcoat. From the tone this gentleman adopts, Miss Parradell, I assume that he considers himself entitled to concern himself in your affairs. Moving over to the left where Lily joins him. Perhaps it will make it easier for you if I——

Lily.

Clutching his arm. Ah, I’m so indignant, Eddie! I—I—I——!

Jeyes.

Eddie! Eddie!

Lily.

Turning upon Jeyes in a fury. Yes, you cad—Eddie, Eddie, Eddie! You cad! You sneak! You idler! You waster! I’ve stood it long enough. This is the last straw! I’ve done with you! I’m sick to death of you! How I’ve tolerated you all these years is a mystery to me! After this, get out of my sight and never show yourself to me again!

Jeyes.

Grasping her wrist, fiercely. Lily——!

Lily.

Wrenching herself free. What! Losing control over herself utterly. You’ll spy on me, will you, you shabby loafer! You’ll peep at me while I’m eating my supper, and count the dances I choose to give that boy over there, will you! And then you’ll break into my house, and insult my friends behind their backs, and insinuate foul things against my poor old mother—you damned coward!—and against me, pointing to Farncombe and him! Why, you’re not fit to black his boots, and you never were—never—you—you—you scum! Here! Taking Farncombe’s note from her bosom and thrusting it at Jeyes. Read that! Sitting in the arm-chair by the centre table. Read it! Read it! Read it! Jeyes reads to himself. Out loud!

Jeyes.

Mumbling. “Dear Miss Parradell. Will you allow me——?”

Lily.

Louder!

Jeyes.

“Will you allow me to remain behind for a few minutes with Miss Jimmie after the others have gone? I know I am presuming a lot, but I cannot leave you till I have asked you the most important question a man can put to a woman. Farncombe.”

Lily.

Breathless. Written here—on my note-paper—while I was out of the room! It came on me like a thunder-clap! Ah! Ah! Ah! Jeyes sits upon the settee, staring at the carpet. And Morrie Cooling and Lal will tell you that I hadn’t a notion that Lord Farncombe was to be at the supper last night, or any of the boys; not a notion. I blackguarded ’em both for deceiving me, and causing me to deceive you. Taking the scent-atomizer from the table and spraying her face with it. Now! What have you to say now! Ah! Ah! Ah!

Jeyes.

Huskily. Why—why the devil did you let Jimmie go? Why did you let her go? It was knowing that you and Farncombe were alone that—that made me——

Lily.

Oh, if I’d suspected that a private detective was hovering around, I’d have kept the whole lot of my friends! As it was, Jimmie was looking dead, and—! in disdain. Pah!

There is a pause and then Jeyes sits upright and draws his hand wearily across his eyes.

Jeyes.

To Lily. Well, I—I beg your pardon. Lily continues to spray herself energetically. I’m not so completely scum as not to see that I ought to beg your pardon. Humbly. I beg your pardon.

Lily.

Softening by degrees. You—you drive me mad sometimes—positively frantic!

Jeyes.

Partly to himself. Mad! To Farncombe. And you, Farncombe—I hope you’ll accept my apologies. I offer them unreservedly.

Farncombe bows, somewhat stiffly.

Lily.

To Jeyes, protruding her lower lip. I—I didn’t mean half I said, Nicko; I didn’t mean half of it. Eyeing Farncombe askance as she replaces the atomizer. And I—I’m ashamed of myself for losing my self-control as I did. There is another pause and then Jeyes gets to his feet and silently returns the note to Lily. She looks up at him piteously and puts the note back into her bosom. Then he takes out his key-ring, removes the latch key from it, and throws the key on to the table. Having done this, he drags his cap from his pocket and makes for the door on the left. As he passes Lily, she rises and gently plucks at his sleeve. Nicko—Nicko——

Jeyes.

In a thick voice. Eh?

Lily.

Won’t you—won’t you give Lord Farncombe—some explanation——?

Jeyes.

Explanation——?

Lily.

Of the sort of terms we’ve been on, you and I, He—he must be—rather puzzled— turning away to the table. Oh, it’s due to you as well as to me!

Jeyes.

Dully. Just as you please. With a hard laugh. Ho, ho! Yes, perhaps it is due to me that he should learn a little more about me than he’s been able to gather from personal observation—and from your eloquent but summary description. Under his breath, screwing up his cap. Idler—waster—loafer——!

Lily.

Penitently. Nicko!

Jeyes.

To Farncombe, quietly. Oh, it’s a true bill, Farncombe. And yet, a very few years back—she won’t dispute it—I was one of the smartest chaps going, good at my job, with prospects as rosy as any man’s in my regiment. There wasn’t a cloud the size of your hand, apparently, in my particular bit of sky at the time I speak of; not a speck! Then I met this young lady, and— pointing to the box-ottoman well, since we’re in for it——!

Farncombe.

Oh, Captain Jeyes——

Jeyes.

No, no; she wishes you to understand the exact nature of the friendship between her and me. I’m obeying instructions. Farncombe sits on the ottoman, nursing his hat and overcoat. Then Jeyes sits in the arm-chair by the centre table, first turning the chair so that it faces Farncombe. Farncombe, I was under thirty, and still a subaltern, when I made Miss Parradell’s acquaintance. Like most of my pals, I was spending my nights, whenever I could get away from Aldershot, in the stalls at the Pandora—much the same as you’ve been doing recently, and as a certain class of young man’ll go on doing as long as the Pandora, and similar shops, continue to flourish. Ha! How honoured we felt, we men, in those days, at knowing some of the Pandora girls, and having the privilege of supping ’em and standing ’em dinner on Sunday evenings! If they’d been royal princesses we couldn’t have been more elated. With a gesture. Don’t jump at conclusions. It generally ended there, or with our running into debt at a jeweller’s. We were young, they were beautiful—or we thought ’em so; but the majority of us weren’t vicious, any more than the majority of the girls were—though many of ’em were mighty calculating. It would have been better for us men if all the girls had been wicked; the glamour, the infatuation, the folly, would have been sooner over, and one of us at least would have had a different tale to tell.

Jeyes pauses, gazing at the floor, Farncombe moves impatiently on the ottoman and Lily seats herself upon the settee.

Lily.

Plaintively. Nicko—Nicko—I merely wanted you to——

Jeyes.

Rousing himself and speaking to Lily over his shoulder. Who was it introduced us?

Lily.

Miss Du Cane—Aggie Du Cane.

Jeyes.

Agnes Du Cane. She’s gone under. To Lily. Outside Buckley’s oyster-bar, wasn’t it?

Lily.

Not outside; in the parlour.

Jeyes.

To Farncombe. Lily had only lately come to the Pandora—a pale-faced slip of a thing. To Lily. Eighteen, weren’t you?

Lily.

Nodding. Eighteen.

Jeyes.

I confess I wasn’t overwhelmingly attracted by her at first; she was so unlike the rest. Laughing bitterly. Ha, ha, ha!

Lily.

Weakly. Ha, ha, ha! Wasn’t I dowdy!

Jeyes.

But she was humble, and naïve, and confiding; and my vanity was tickled by her delight at the little treats I gave her, and by her gratitude for a tuppeny-ha’penny present or two. Nobody, I believe, with any pretensions to being a gentleman, had paid her much attention before I arrived on the scene.

Lily.

In a murmur. No; nobody.

Jeyes.

I didn’t find out that I was in love with her—you guess it’s a love story, don’t you?——

Farncombe.

Delicately. My dear Captain Jeyes——

Jeyes.

I didn’t find out that I was neck and heels in love with her until nearly a year afterwards, when my regiment went to the Curragh. That did it—separation! What I suffered in that hole, thinking of her, starving for her! In less than three months I was in London again, on leave, and in my old stall at the Pandora. But even then, Farncombe, I hadn’t your pluck.

Farncombe.

Pluck?

Jeyes.

The pluck to snap my fingers at the world and propose marriage to a Pandora girl. Besides, my mother was alive then, and— abruptly, with a wild look would you like to know what she