Getting Married

do what you like. But at least let me know your soul as you seem to know mine. Do you love this absurd coal merchant? Mrs. George Call him George. Hotchkiss Do you love your Jorjy Porjy? Mrs. George Oh, I don’t know that I love him. He’s my husband, you know. But if I got anxious about George’s health, and I thought it would nourish him, I would fry you with onions for his breakfast and think nothing of it. George and I are good friends. George belongs to me. Other men may come and go; but George goes on forever. Hotchkiss Yes: a husband soon becomes nothing but a habit. Listen: I suppose this detestable fascination you have for me is love. Mrs. George Any sort of feeling for a woman is called love nowadays. Hotchkiss Do you love me? Mrs. George Promptly. My love is not quite so cheap an article as that, my lad. I wouldn’t cross the street to have another look at you⁠—not yet. I’m not starving for love like the robins in winter, as the good ladies you’re accustomed to are. You’ll have to be very clever, and very good, and very real, if you are to interest me. If George takes a fancy to you, and you amuse him enough, I’ll just tolerate you coming in and out occasionally for⁠—well, say a month. If you can make a friend of me in that time so much the better for you. If you can touch my poor dying heart even for an instant, I’ll bless you, and never forget you. You may try⁠—if George takes to you. Hotchkiss I’m to come on liking for the month? Mrs. George On condition that you drop Mrs. Reginald. Hotchkiss But she won’t drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didn’t understand. One day she came to me and told me that the inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me and could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now? What can I do now? Mrs. George Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other men’s wives is growing on you; and that I’m your latest. Hotchkiss What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over for me! Mrs. George Rising. You won’t then? Very well. Sorry we shan’t meet again: I should have liked to see more of you for George’s sake. Goodbye. She moves away from him towards the hearth. Hotchkiss Appealing. Zenobia⁠— Mrs. George I thought I had made a difficult conquest. Now I see you are only one of those poor petticoat-hunting creatures that any woman can pick up. Not for me, thank you. Inexorable, she turns towards the tower to go. Hotchkiss Following. Don’t be an ass, Polly. Mrs. George Stopping. That’s better. Hotchkiss Can’t you see that I mayn’t throw Leo over just because I should be only too glad to. It would be dishonorable. Mrs. George Will you be happy if you marry her? Hotchkiss No, great heaven, no! Mrs. George Will she be happy when she finds you out? Hotchkiss She’s incapable of happiness. But she’s not incapable of the pleasure of holding a man against his will. Mrs. George Right, young man. You will tell her, please, that you love me: before everybody, mind, the very next time you see her. Hotchkiss But⁠— Mrs. George Those are my orders, Sinjon. I can’t have you marry another woman until George is tired of you. Hotchkiss Oh, if I only didn’t selfishly want to obey you! The General comes in from the garden. Mrs. George goes halfway to the garden door to speak to him. Hotchkiss posts himself on the hearth. Mrs. George Where have you been all this time? The General I’m afraid my nerves were a little upset by our conversation. I just went into the garden and had a smoke. I’m all right now. He strolls down to the study door and presently takes a chair at that end of the big table. Mrs. George A smoke! Why, you said she couldn’t bear it. The General Good heavens! I forgot! It’s such a natural thing to do, somehow. Lesbia comes in through the tower. Mrs. George He’s been smoking again. Lesbia So my nose tells me. She goes to the end of the table nearest the hearth, and sits down. The General Lesbia: I’m very sorry. But if I gave it up, I should become so melancholy and irritable that you would be the first to implore me to take to it again. Mrs. George That’s true. Women drive their husbands into all sorts of wickedness to keep them in good humor. Sinjon: be off with you: this doesn’t concern you. Lesbia Please don’t disturb yourself, Sinjon. Boxer’s broken heart has been worn on his sleeve too long for any pretence of privacy. The General You are cruel, Lesbia: devilishly cruel. He sits down, wounded. Lesbia You are vulgar, Boxer. Hotchkiss In what way? I ask, as an expert in vulgarity. Lesbia In two ways. First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self control. The General Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. Mrs. George Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it’s the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She’s got too much self control. Lesbia Widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily. And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self