The Straw Part 2

GAYNOR (_brutally_). That's your concern. Don't lie about your poverty.

You've a steady well-paid job, and plenty of money to throw away on drunken sprees, I'll bet. The weekly fee at the Hill Farm is only seven dollars. You can easily afford that--the price of a few rounds of drinks.

CARMODY. Seven dollars! And I'll have to pay a woman to come in--and the four of the children eatin' their heads off! Glory be to G.o.d, I'll not have a penny saved for me old age--and then it's the poor-house!

GAYNOR (_curtly_). Don't talk nonsense!

CARMODY. Ah, doctor, it's the truth I'm tellin' you!

GAYNOR. Well, perhaps I can get the Society to pay half for your daughter--if you're really as hard up as you pretend. They're willing to do that where it seems necessary.

CARMODY (_brightening_). Ah, Doctor, thank you.

GAYNOR (_abruptly_). Then it's all settled?

CARMODY (_grudgingly--trying to make the best of it_). I'll do my best for Eileen, if it's needful--and you'll not be tellin' them people about it at all, Doctor?

GAYNOR. Not unless you force me to.

CARMODY. And they'll pay the half, surely?

GAYNOR. I'll see what I can do--for your daughter's sake, not yours, understand!

CARMODY. G.o.d bless you, Doctor! (_Grumblingly._) It's the whole of it they ought to be payin', I'm thinkin', and them with bags of money.

'Tis them builds the hospitals and why should they be wantin' the poor like me to support them?

GAYNOR (_disgustedly_). Bah! (_Abruptly._) I'll telephone to Doctor Stanton to-morrow morning. Then I'll know something definite when I come to see your daughter in the afternoon.

CARMODY (_darkly_). You'll be comin' again tomorrow? (_Half to himself._) Leave it to the likes of you to be drainin' a man dry.

(Gaynor _has gone out to the hall in rear and does not hear this last remark. There is a loud knock from the outside door. The Doctor comes back into the room carrying his hat and overcoat._)

GAYNOR. There's someone knocking.

CARMODY. Who'll it be? Ah, it's Fred Nicholls, maybe. (_In a low voice to_ Gaynor _who has started to put on his overcoat._) Eileen's young man, Doctor, that she's engaged to marry, as you might say.

GAYNOR (_thoughtfully_). H'mm--yes--she spoke of him.

(_As another knock sounds_ Carmody _hurries to the rear._ Gaynor, _after a moments indecision, takes off his overcoat again and sits down. A moment later_ Carmody _re-enters, followed by_ Fred Nicholls, _who has left his overcoat and hat in the hallway._ Nicholls _is a young fellow of twenty-three, stockily built, fair-haired, handsome in a commonplace, conventional mould. His manner is obviously an attempt at suave gentility; he has an easy, taking smile and a ready laugh, but there is a petty, calculating expression in his small, observing, blue eyes. His well-fitting, ready-made clothes are carefully pressed. His whole get-up suggests an att.i.tude of man-about-small-town complacency._)

CARMODY (_as they enter_). I had a mind to phone to your house, but I wasn't wishful to disturb you, knowin' you'd be comin' to call to-night.

NICHOLLS (_with disappointed concern_). It's nothing serious, I hope.

CARMODY (_grumblingly_). Ah, who knows? Here's the doctor. You've not met him?

NICHOLLS (_politely, looking at_ Gaynor, _who inclines his head stiffly_). I haven't had the pleasure. Of course, I've heard----

CARMODY. It's Doctor Gaynor. This is Fred Nicholls, Doctor. (_The two men shake hands with conventional greetings._) Sit down, Fred, that's a good lad, and be talkin' to the Doctor a moment while I go upstairs and see how is Eileen. She's all alone up there.

NICHOLLS. Certainly, Mr. Carmody. Go ahead--and tell her how sorry I am to learn she's under the weather.

CARMODY. I will so. (_He goes out._)

GAYNOR (_after a pause in which he is studying_ Nicholls). Do you happen to be any relative to the Albert Nicholls who is superintendent over at the Downs Manufacturing Company?

NICHOLLS (_smiling_). He's sort of a near relative--my father.

GAYNOR. Ah, yes?

NICHOLLS (_with satisfaction_). I work for the Downs Company myself--bookkeeper----

GAYNOR. Miss Carmody--the sick girl upstairs--she had a position there also, didn't she, before her mother died?

NICHOLLS. Yes. She had a job as stenographer for a time. When she graduated from the business college course--I was already working at the Downs--and through my father's influence--you understand. (Gaynor _nods curtly._) She was getting on finely, too, and liked the work.

It's too bad--her mother's death, I mean--forcing her to give it up and come home to take care of those kids.

GAYNOR. It's a d.a.m.n shame. That's the main cause of her breakdown.

NICHOLLS (_frowning_). I've noticed she's been looking badly lately. So that's the trouble? Well, it's all her father's fault--and her own, too, because whenever I raised a kick about his making a slave of her, she always defended him. (_With a quick glance at the Doctor--in a confidential tone._) Between us, Carmody's as selfish as they make 'em, if you want my opinion.

GAYNOR (_with a growl_). He's a hog on two legs.

NICHOLLS (_with a gratified smile_). You bet! (_With a patronising air._) I hope to get Eileen away from all this as soon as--things pick up a little. (_Making haste to explain his connection with the dubious household._) Eileen and I have gone around together for years--went to Grammar and High School together--in different cla.s.ses, of course.

She's really a corker--very different from the rest of the family you've seen--like her mother. She's really educated and knows a lot--used to carry off all the prizes at school. My folks like her awfully well. Of course, they'd never stand for--him.

GAYNOR. You'll excuse my curiosity--I've a good reason for it--but you and Miss Carmody are engaged, aren't you? Carmody said you were.

NICHOLLS (_embarra.s.sed_). Why, yes, in a way--but nothing definite--no official announcement or anything of that kind. It's all in the future.

We have to wait, you know. (_With a sentimental smile._) We've been sort of engaged for years, you might say. It's always been sort of understood between us. (_He laughs awkwardly._)

GAYNOR (_gravely_). Then I can be frank with you. I'd like to be because I may need your help. I don't put much faith in any promise Carmody makes. Besides, you're bound to know anyway. She'd tell you.

NICHOLLS (_a look of apprehension coming over his face_). Is it--about her sickness?

GAYNOR. Yes.

NICHOLLS. Then--it's serious?

GAYNOR. It's pulmonary tuberculosis--consumption.

NICHOLLS (_stunned_). Consumption? Good heavens! (_After a dazed pause--lamely._) Are you sure, Doctor?

GAYNOR. Positive. (Nicholls _stares at him with vaguely frightened eyes._) It's had a good start--thanks to her father's blind selfishness--but let's hope that can be overcome. The important thing is to s.h.i.+p her off to a sanatorium immediately. Carmody wouldn't hear of it at first. However, I managed to bully him into consenting; but I don't trust his word. That's where you can be of help. It's up to you to convince him that it's imperative she be sent away at once--for the safety of those around her as well as her own.

NICHOLLS (_confusedly_). I'll do my best, Doctor. (_As if he couldn't yet believe his ears--shuddering!_) Good heavens! She never said a word about--being so ill. She's had a cold. But, Doctor--do you think this sanatorium will----?

GAYNOR (_with hearty hopefulness_). Most certainly. She has every chance. The Hill Farm has a really surprising record of arrested cases--as good as any place in the country. Of course, she'll never be able to live as carelessly as before, even after the most favourable results. She'll have to take care of herself. (_Apologetically._) I'm telling you all this as being the one most intimately concerned. I don't count Carmody. You are the one who will have to a.s.sume responsibility for her welfare when she returns to everyday life.

NICHOLLS (_answering as if he were merely talking to screen the thoughts in his mind_). Yes--certainly. Where is this sanatorium, Doctor--very far away?