Bienkowski Balter
2014-04-01 17:44:44 UTC
e Mistre
like all persons of distinction, you belong to the criminal classes; but we are all emancipated here. (_Re-enter Mrs. Denham and Miss Macfarlane, who goes straight to the fire as she speaks._) Mrs. Denham. Oh, Arthur, that precious black cat of yours! Miss Macfarlane. We've settled the curtains, now for the cat. Denham. What has he been doing now? Mrs. Denham. In the larder again. Really that beast must be got rid of. I will not stand such abominations any longer. Denham. Well, don't ask me to be executioner, that's all. Mrs. Tremaine. But surely you're not going to kill a black cat? It is awfully unlucky. (_Miss Macfarlane keeps Mrs. Tremaine under observation._) Denham. Are you superstitious? Mrs. Tremaine. I suppose I am. Those peacock feathers made me shiver when I came in. Mrs. Denham. Are peacock's feathers unlucky? Mrs. Tremaine. Yes; didn't you know that? Mrs. Denham. No. Denham Constance is not superstitious. It is her worst fault. A little superstition gives colour to life. Mrs. Tremaine. Do let _me_ take the cat, Constance! Mrs. Denham. I am sure you are welcome to the beast. Denham. Thanks, Mrs Tremaine. Mrs. Denham. Arthur, take Mrs. Tremaine down to have some tea. Denham. Will you come, Mrs. Tremaine? (_Exeunt Denham and Mrs. Tremaine._) Miss Macfarlane. (_retaining Mrs. Denham_) My dear, beware of that woman! (_Crosses to Mrs. Denham._) Mrs. Denham. Of Blanche--why? Miss Macfarlane. Ye have a husband, that's all. Mrs. Denham. But you don't suppose-- Miss Macfarlane. Eh, I suppose nothing. But that woman loves men. I can see it with half an eye. Mrs. Denham. If my husband does not love me, let him leave me (_Crosses C._) Miss Macfarlane. Fiddlesticks, my dear; don't go in for heroics. Of course he loves you. Does it follow he can't love another woman into the bargain? They think they can, at any rate. Mrs. Denham. I don't care for such love. Miss Macfarlane. Of course not. But in this world we must make sure of what we can grab; and then we can grab a bit more, and a bit more, maybe. Mrs. Denham. I can trust my husband. Miss Macfarlane. (_coming to Mrs. Denham_) Right; but don't trust him into temptation. Mind you, she's charming. Men haven't been flogged into constancy, as we have. Remember that. I'm not old-maidish, my dear, though I've escaped holy matrimony. I don't profess hatred of men, they're none so much worse than we are; but they're different, and--pardon
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like all persons of distinction, you belong to the criminal classes; but we are all emancipated here. (_Re-enter Mrs. Denham and Miss Macfarlane, who goes straight to the fire as she speaks._) Mrs. Denham. Oh, Arthur, that precious black cat of yours! Miss Macfarlane. We've settled the curtains, now for the cat. Denham. What has he been doing now? Mrs. Denham. In the larder again. Really that beast must be got rid of. I will not stand such abominations any longer. Denham. Well, don't ask me to be executioner, that's all. Mrs. Tremaine. But surely you're not going to kill a black cat? It is awfully unlucky. (_Miss Macfarlane keeps Mrs. Tremaine under observation._) Denham. Are you superstitious? Mrs. Tremaine. I suppose I am. Those peacock feathers made me shiver when I came in. Mrs. Denham. Are peacock's feathers unlucky? Mrs. Tremaine. Yes; didn't you know that? Mrs. Denham. No. Denham Constance is not superstitious. It is her worst fault. A little superstition gives colour to life. Mrs. Tremaine. Do let _me_ take the cat, Constance! Mrs. Denham. I am sure you are welcome to the beast. Denham. Thanks, Mrs Tremaine. Mrs. Denham. Arthur, take Mrs. Tremaine down to have some tea. Denham. Will you come, Mrs. Tremaine? (_Exeunt Denham and Mrs. Tremaine._) Miss Macfarlane. (_retaining Mrs. Denham_) My dear, beware of that woman! (_Crosses to Mrs. Denham._) Mrs. Denham. Of Blanche--why? Miss Macfarlane. Ye have a husband, that's all. Mrs. Denham. But you don't suppose-- Miss Macfarlane. Eh, I suppose nothing. But that woman loves men. I can see it with half an eye. Mrs. Denham. If my husband does not love me, let him leave me (_Crosses C._) Miss Macfarlane. Fiddlesticks, my dear; don't go in for heroics. Of course he loves you. Does it follow he can't love another woman into the bargain? They think they can, at any rate. Mrs. Denham. I don't care for such love. Miss Macfarlane. Of course not. But in this world we must make sure of what we can grab; and then we can grab a bit more, and a bit more, maybe. Mrs. Denham. I can trust my husband. Miss Macfarlane. (_coming to Mrs. Denham_) Right; but don't trust him into temptation. Mind you, she's charming. Men haven't been flogged into constancy, as we have. Remember that. I'm not old-maidish, my dear, though I've escaped holy matrimony. I don't profess hatred of men, they're none so much worse than we are; but they're different, and--pardon
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