What Every Woman Knows Part 12

[She looks at him wistfully.]

MAGGIE. You couldn't stay and have a talk for a few minutes?

JOHN. If you want me, Maggie. The longer you keep them waiting, the more they think of you.

MAGGIE. When are you to announce that we're to be married, John?

JOHN. I won't be long. You've waited a year more than you need have done, so I think it's your due I should hurry things now.

MAGGIE. I think it's n.o.ble of you.

JOHN. Not at all, Maggie; the n.o.bleness has been yours in waiting so patiently. And your brothers would insist on it at any rate. They're watching me like cats with a mouse.

MAGGIE. It's so little I've done to help.

JOHN. Three hundred pounds.

MAGGIE. I'm getting a thousand per cent for it.

JOHN. And very pleased I am you should think so, Maggie.

MAGGIE. Is it terrible hard to you, John?

JOHN. It's not hard at all. I can say truthfully, Maggie, that all, or nearly all, I've seen of you in these six years has gone to increase my respect for you.

MAGGIE. Respect!

JOHN. And a bargain's a bargain.

MAGGIE. If it wasn't that you're so glorious to me, John, I would let you off.

[There is a gleam in his eye, but he puts it out.]

JOHN. In my opinion, Maggie, we'll be a very happy pair.

[She accepts this eagerly.]

MAGGIE. We know each other so well, John, don't we?

JOHN. I'm an extraordinary queer character, and I suppose n.o.body knows me well except myself; but I know you, Maggie, to the very roots of you.

[She magnanimously lets this remark alone.]

MAGGIE. And it's not as if there was any other woman you--fancied more, John.

JOHN. There's none whatever.

MAGGIE. If there ever should be--oh, if there ever should be! Some woman with charm.

JOHN. Maggie, you forget yourself. There couldn't be another woman once I was a married man.

MAGGIE. One has heard of such things.

JOHN. Not in Scotsmen, Maggie; not in Scotsmen.

MAGGIE. I've sometimes thought, John, that the difference between us and the English is that the Scotch are hard in all other respects but soft with women, and the English are hard with women but soft in all other respects.

JOHN. You've forgotten the grandest moral attribute of a Scotsman, Maggie, that he'll do nothing which might damage his career.

MAGGIE. Ah, but John, whatever you do, you do it so tremendously; and if you were to love, what a pa.s.sion it would be.

JOHN. There's something in that, I suppose.

MAGGIE. And then, what could I do? For the desire of my life now, John, is to help you to get everything you want, except just that I want you to have me, too.

JOHN. We'll get on fine, Maggie.

MAGGIE. You're just making the best of it. They say that love is sympathy, and if that's so, mine must be a great love for you, for I see all you are feeling this night and bravely hiding; I feel for you as if I was John Shand myself. [He sighs.]

JOHN. I had best go to the meeting, Maggie.

MAGGIE. Not yet. Can you look me in the face, John, and deny that there is surging within you a mighty desire to be free, to begin the new life untrammelled?

JOHN. Leave such maggots alone, Maggie.

MAGGIE. It's a shame of me not to give you up.

JOHN. I would consider you a very foolish woman if you did.

MAGGIE. If I were John Shand I would no more want to take Maggie Wylie with me through the beautiful door that has opened wide for you than I would want to take an old pair of shoon. Why don't you bang the door in my face, John? [A tremor runs through JOHN.]

JOHN. A bargain's a bargain, Maggie.

[MAGGIE moves about, an eerie figure, breaking into little cries. She flutters round him, threateningly.]

MAGGIE. Say one word about wanting to get out of it, and I'll put the lawyers on you.

JOHN. Have I hinted at such a thing?

MAGGIE. The doc.u.ment holds you hard and fast.

JOHN. It does.

[She gloats miserably.]

MAGGIE. The woman never rises with the man. I'll drag you down, John.

I'll drag you down.

JOHN. Have no fear of that, I won't let you. I'm too strong.