The Silver Box Read Online Free PDF Page A

We—er—won't go into that. [Sympathetically.] And how about your work here? Do you find it hard?
     
    MRS. JONES. Oh! no, sir, not very hard, sir; except of course, when I don't get my sleep at night.
     
    BARTHWICK. Ah! And you help do all the rooms? And sometimes, I suppose, you go out for cook?
     
    MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir.
     
    BARTHWICK. And you've been out this morning?
     
    MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, of course I had to go to the greengrocer's.
     
    BARTHWICK. Exactly. So your husband earns nothing? And he's a bad character.
     
    MRS. JONES. No, Sir, I don't say that, sir. I think there's a great deal of good in him; though he does treat me very bad sometimes. And of course I don't like to leave him, but I think I ought to, because really I hardly know how to stay with him. He often raises his hand to me. Not long ago he gave me a blow here [touches her breast] and I can feel it now. So I think I ought to leave him, don't you, sir?
     
    BARTHWICK. Ah! I can't help you there. It's a very serious thing to leave your husband. Very serious thing.
     
    MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, of course I 'm afraid of what he might do to me if I were to leave him; he can be so very violent.
     
    BARTHWICK. H'm! Well, that I can't pretend to say anything about. It's the bad principle I'm speaking of—
     
    MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir; I know nobody can help me. I know I must decide for myself, and of course I know that he has a very hard life. And he's fond of the children, and its very hard for him to see them going without food.
     
    BARTHWICK. [Hastily.] Well—er—thank you, I just wanted to hear about you. I don't think I need detain you any longer, Mrs. Jones.
     
    MRS. JONES. No, sir, thank you, sir.
     
    BARTHWICK. Good morning, then.
     
    MRS. JONES. Good morning, sir; good morning, ma'am.
     
    BARTHWICK. [Exchanging glances with his wife.] By the way, Mrs. Jones—I think it is only fair to tell you, a silver cigarette-box —er—is missing.
     
    MRS. JONES. [Looking from one face to the other.] I am very sorry, sir.
     
    BARTHWICK. Yes; you have not seen it, I suppose?
     
    MRS. JONES. [Realising that suspicion is upon her; with an uneasy movement.] Where was it, sir; if you please, sir?
     
    BARTHWICK. [Evasively.] Where did Marlow say? Er—in this room, yes, in this room.
     
    MRS. JONES. No, Sir, I haven't seen it—of course if I 'd seen it I should have noticed it.
     
    BARTHWICK. [Giving hey a rapid glance.] You—you are sure of that?
     
    MRS. JONES. [Impassively.] Yes, Sir. [With a slow nodding of her head.] I have not seen it, and of course I don't know where it is.
     
    [She turns and goes quietly out.]
     
    BARTHWICK. H'm!
     
    [The three BARTHWICKS avoid each other's glances.]
     
    The curtain falls.
     
     
     
     
    ACT II
     
    SCENE I
     
    The JONES's lodgings, Merthyr Street, at half-past two o'clock. The bare room, with tattered oilcloth and damp, distempered walls, has an air of tidy wretchedness. On the bed lies JONES, half-dressed; his coat is thrown across his feet, and muddy boots are lying on the floor close by. He is asleep. The door is opened and MRS. JONES comes in, dressed in a pinched black jacket and old black sailor hat; she carries a parcel wrapped up in the "Times." She puts her parcel down, unwraps an apron, half a loaf, two onions, three potatoes, and a tiny piece of bacon. Taking a teapot from the cupboard, she rinses it, shakes into it some powdered tea out of a screw of paper, puts it on the hearth, and sitting in a wooden chair quietly begins to cry.
     
    JONES. [Stirring and yawning.] That you? What's the time?
     
    MRS. JONES. [Drying her eyes, and in her usual voice.] Half-past two.
     
    JONES. What you back so soon for?
     
    MRS. JONES. I only had the half day to-day, Jem.
     
    JONES. [On his back, and in a drowsy voice.] Got anything for dinner?
     
    MRS. JONES. Mrs. BARTHWICK's cook gave me a little bit of bacon. I'm going to make a stew. [She prepares for cooking.] There's fourteen shillings owing