JUGGINS. Yes, sir. [Bobby goes out. Duvallet follows him to the door].
You understand, sir, that Miss Knox is a lady absolutely _comme il
faut_?
DUVALLET. Perfectly. But the other?
JUGGINS. The other, sir, may be both charitably and accurately described
in your native idiom as a daughter of joy.
DUVALLET. It is what I thought. These English domestic interiors are
very interesting. [He goes out, followed by Juggins].
_Presently Mr and Mrs Gilbey come in. They take their accustomed places:
he on the hearthrug, she at the colder end of the table._
MRS GILBEY. Did you smell scent in the hall, Rob?
GILBEY. No, I didnt. And I dont want to smell it. Dont you go looking
for trouble, Maria.
MRS GILBEY. [snuffing up the perfumed atmosphere] Shes been here.
[Gilbey rings the bell]. What are you ringing for? Are you going to ask?
GILBEY. No, I'm not going to ask. Juggins said this morning he wanted to
speak to me. If he likes to tell me, let him; but I'm not going to ask;
and dont you either. [Juggins appears at the door]. You said you wanted
to say something to me.
JUGGINS. When it would be convenient to you, sir.
GILBEY. Well, what is it?
MRS GILBEY. Oh, Juggins, we're expecting Mr and Mrs Knox to tea.
GILBEY. He knows that. [He sits down. Then, to Juggins] What is it?
JUGGINS. [advancing to the middle of the table] Would it inconvenience
you, sir, if I was to give you a month's notice?
GILBEY. [taken aback] What! Why? Aint you satisfied?
JUGGINS. Perfectly, sir. It is not that I want to better myself, I
assure you.
GILBEY. Well, what do you want to leave for, then? Do you want to worse
yourself?
JUGGINS. No, sir. Ive been well treated in your most comfortable
establishment; and I should be greatly distressed if you or Mrs Gilbey
were to interpret my notice as an expression of dissatisfaction.
GILBEY. [paternally] Now you listen to me, Juggins. I'm an older man
than you. Dont you throw out dirty water til you get in fresh. Dont
get too big for your boots. Youre like all servants nowadays: you think
youve only to hold up your finger to get the pick of half a dozen jobs.
But you wont be treated everywhere as youre treated here. In bed every
night before eleven; hardly a ring at the door except on Mrs Gilbey's
day once a month; and no other manservant to interfere with you. It may
be a bit quiet perhaps; but youre past the age of adventure. Take my
advice: think over it. You suit me; and I'm prepared to make it suit you
if youre dissatisfied--in reason, you know.
JUGGINS. I realize my advantages, sir; but Ive private reasons--
GILBEY. [cutting him short angrily and retiring to the hearthrug in
dudgeon] Oh, I know. Very well: go. The sooner the better.
MRS GILBEY. Oh, not until we're suited. He must stay his month.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account