FANNY. No, that's not fair. You wouldn't have married a girl off
the music-hall stage.
VERNON. Niece of a bishop, cousin to a judge. Whether I believed it
or not, doesn't matter. The sham that isn't likely to be found out
is as good as the truth, to a snob. If he had told me your uncle was
a butler, I should have hesitated. That's where the mistake began.
We'll go back to that. Won't you sit down? [Fanny sits.] I want
you to stop. There'll be no mistake this time. I'm asking my
butler's niece to do me the honour to be my wife.
FANNY. That's kind of you.
VERNON. Oh, I'm not thinking of you. I'm thinking of myself. I
want you. I fell in love with you because you were pretty and
charming. There's something else a man wants in his wife besides
that. I've found it. [He jumps up, goes over to her, brushing aside
things in his way.] I'm not claiming it as a right; you can go if
you like. You can earn your own living, I know. But you shan't have
anybody else. You'll be Lady Bantock and nobody else--as long as I
live. [He has grown quite savage.]
FANNY [she bites her lip to keep back the smile that wants to come].
That cuts both ways, you know.
VERNON. I don't want anybody else.
FANNY [she stretches out her hand and lays it on his]. Won't it be
too hard for you? You'll have to tell them all--your friends--
everybody.
VERNON. They've got to be told in any case. If you are here, for
them to see, they'll be able to understand--those that have got any
sense.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101