Getting Married

quite as nice as George. Mrs. George You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? Hotchkiss You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise you’ll receive me when I call this afternoon. Mrs. George After what you’ve just done? Not if it was to save my life. Hotchkiss I’ll amuse George. Mrs. George He won’t be in. Hotchkiss Taken aback. Do you mean that we should be alone? Mrs. George Snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes. Aha! That’s cooled you, has it? Hotchkiss Anxiously. When will George be at home? Mrs. George It won’t matter to you whether he’s at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. Hotchkiss No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You can’t escape me. If you persist, I’ll go into the coal trade; make George’s acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. Mrs. George We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I. She sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door. Hotchkiss Following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table. Yes you have. George can’t fight for you: I can. Mrs. George Turning to face him. You bully. You low bully. Hotchkiss You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We’re both bullies, Polly. Mrs. George You have a mischievous tongue. That’s enough to keep you out of my house. Hotchkiss It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George⁠—just the right word, said in the right way⁠—and down comes your house. Mrs. George That’s why I’ll die sooner than let you into it. Hotchkiss Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade tomorrow. George’s taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. Mrs. George Rising, at bay. Do you think I’ll let myself be driven into a trap like this? Hotchkiss You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. Mrs. George Desperate. You mean it? Hotchkiss I do. Mrs. George Resolutely. Well, spoil my marriage and be⁠— Hotchkiss Springing up. Polly! Mrs. George Sooner than be your slave I’d face any unhappiness. Hotchkiss What! Even for George? Mrs. George There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. Hotchkiss Admiring her. Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? Mrs. George If you ask me another question I shan’t be able to keep my hands off you. She dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping. Hotchkiss That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I’ll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but you’ll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. Mrs. George I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it. She makes for the tower. Hotchkiss Running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off. You shan’t. Mrs. George Panting. Shan’t I though? Hotchkiss No you shan’t. I have one card left to play that you’ve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? Mrs. George Agitated beyond measure. Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. He kneels at her feet. What are you doing? Get up: don’t be a fool. Hotchkiss Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George’s acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? Mrs. George Beside herself. Where’s the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. The Bishop Don’t hit him, Mrs. Collins. He is my guest. Mrs. George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. The Bishop Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? Mrs. George To Hotchkiss, pointing to the study. Go in there, you. You’re not wanted here. Hotchkiss You understand, Bishop, that Mrs. Collins is not to blame for this scene. I’m afraid I’ve been rather irritating. The Bishop I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. The Bishop Turning to Mrs. George with great kindness of manner. I’m sorry you have been worried. He sits down on her left. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and you’ll be laughing at him. Mrs. George Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadn’t come in. The Bishop You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs. Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. Mrs. George Yes: it’s your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I don’t know? The Bishop I don’t rebuke