WELLWYN. [Looking uneasily at the door into the house.] You think
so? Ah!
FERRAND. Monsieur, if HE himself were on earth now, there would be a
little heap of gentlemen writing to the journals every day to call
Him sloppee sentimentalist! And what is veree funny, these gentlemen
they would all be most strong Christians. [He regards WELLWYN
deeply.] But that will not trouble you, Monsieur; I saw well from
the first that you are no Christian. You have so kind a face.
WELLWYN. Oh! Indeed!
FERRAND. You have not enough the Pharisee in your character. You do
not judge, and you are judged.
[He stretches his limbs as if in pain.]
WELLWYN. Are you in pain?
FERRAND. I 'ave a little the rheumatism.
WELLWYN. Wet through, of course! [Glancing towards the house.] Wait
a bit! I wonder if you'd like these trousers; they've--er--they're
not quite----
[He passes through the door into the house. FERRAND stands at
the fire, with his limbs spread as it were to embrace it,
smoking with abandonment. WELLWYN returns stealthily, dressed
in a Jaeger dressing-gown, and bearing a pair of drawers, his
trousers, a pair of slippers, and a sweater.
Pages:
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31