Have no fear, Madame!
[In the silence that follows, a clock begins loudly striking
twelve. ANN remains, as if carved in atone, her eyes fastened
on the strangers. There is the sound of someone falling
downstairs, and WELLWYN appears, also holding a candle above his
head.]
ANN. Look!
WELLWYN. Yes, yes, my dear! It--it happened.
ANN. [With a sort of groan.] Oh! Daddy!
[In the renewed silence, the church clock ceases to chime.]
FERRAND. [Softly, in his ironic voice.] HE is come, Monsieur! 'Appy
Christmas! Bon Noel!
[There is a sudden chime of bells. The Stage is blotted dark.]
Curtain.
ACT II
It is four o'clock in the afternoon of New Year's Day. On the raised
dais MRS. MEGAN is standing, in her rags; with bare feet and ankles,
her dark hair as if blown about, her lips parted, holding out a
dishevelled bunch of violets. Before his easel, WELLWYN is painting
her. Behind him, at a table between the cupboard and the door to the
model's room, TIMSON is washing brushes, with the movements of one
employed upon relief works. The samovar is hissing on the table by
the stove, the tea things are set out.
WELLWYN. Open your mouth.
[MRS. MEGAN opens her mouth.]
ANN. [In hat and coat, entering from the house.] Daddy!
[WELLWYN goes to her; and, released from restraint, MRS. MEGAN
looks round at TIMSON and grimaces.]
WELLWYN.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113