If By Lord Dunsany

by Lord Dunsany [Edward John Plunkett] DRAMATIS PERSONAE JOHN BEALMARY BEALLIZAALIBERT, BILL: two railway portersTHE MAN IN THE CORNERMIRALDA CLEMENTHAFIZ EL ALCOLAHNDAOUDARCHIE BEALBAZZALOL, THOOTHOOBABA: two Nubian door-keepers BEN HUSSEIN, Lord of the PassZABNOOL, SHABEESH: two conjurersOMAR, a singerZAGBOOLA, mother of HafizTHE SHEIK OF THE BISHAREENS Notables, soldiers, Bishareens, dancers, etc. IF ACT I SCENE 1 A small railway station near London.Time: Ten years ago. BERT ‘Ow goes it, Bill? BILL Goes it? ‘Ow d’yer think it goes? BERT I don’t know, Bill. ‘Ow is it? BILL Bloody. BERT Why? What’s wrong? BILL Wrong? Nothing ain’t wrong. BERT What’s up then? BILL Nothing ain’t right. BERT Why, wot’s the worry? BILL Wot’s the worry? They don’t give youbetter wages nor a dog, and then they thinks they can talk at yer and talk at yer, and say wot they likes, like. BERT Why? You been on the carpet, Bill? BILL Ain’t I! Proper. BERT Why, wot about, Bill? BILL Wot about? I’ll tell yer. Just coz I let a lidy get into a train. That’s wot about. Said I ought to ‘av stopped ‘er. Thought the train was moving. Thought it was dangerous. Thought I tried to murder ‘er, I suppose. BERT Wot? The other day? BILL Yes. BERT Tuesday? BILL Yes. BERT Why. The one that dropped her bag? BILL Yes. Drops ‘er bag. Writes to the company. They writes back she shouldn’t ‘avgot in. She writes back she should. Then they gets on to me. Any more of it andI’ll… BERT I wouldn’t, Bill; don’t you. BILL I will. BERT Don’t you, Bill. You’ve got your family to consider. BILL Well, anyway, I won’t let any more of them passengers go jumping into trains any more, not when they’re moving, I won’t.When the train gets in, doors shut. That’s the rule. And they’ll ‘ave to abide by it. BERT Well, I wouldn’t stop one, not if… BILL I don’t care. They ain’t going to ‘ave me on the mat again and talk all that stuff to me. No, if someone ‘as to suffer . . .‘Ere she is. [Noise of approaching train heard.] BERT Ay, that’s her. BILL And shut goes the door. [Enter JOHN BEAL.] BERT Wait a moment, Bill. BILL Not if he’s . . . Not if he was ever so. JOHN [preparing to pass] Good morning. . . . BILL Can’t come through. Too late. JOHN Too late? Why, the train’s only just in. BILL Don’t care. It’s the rule. JOHN O, nonsense. [He carries on.] BILL It’s too late. I tell you you can’t come. JOHN But that’s absurd. I want to catch my train. BILL It’s too late. BERT Let him go, Bill. BILL I’m blowed if I let him go. JOHN I want to catch my train. [JOHN is stopped by BILL and pushedback by the face. JOHN advances towards BILL looking like fighting. The train has gone.] BILL Only doing my duty. [JOHN stops and reflects at this, deciding it isn’t good enough. He shrugs hisshoulders, turns round and goes away.] JOHN I shouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t get even with you one of these days, you . . . . . and some way you won’t expect. Curtain SCENE 2 Yesterday evening. [Curtain rises on JOHN and MARY intheir suburban home.] JOHN I say, dear. Don’t you think we ought to plant an acacia? MARY An acacia, what’s that, John? JOHN O, it’s one of those trees that they have. MARY But why, John? JOHN Well, you see the house is called The Acacias, and it seems rather silly not to have at least one. MARY O, I don’t think that matters. Lots of places are called lots of things. Everyone does. JOHN Yes, but it might help the postman. MARY O, no, it wouldn’t, dear. He wouldn’t know an acacia if he saw it any more than I should. JOHN Quite right, Mary, you’re always right. What a clever head you’ve got! MARY Have I, John? We’ll plant an acacia if you like. I’ll ask about it at the grocer’s. JOHN You can’t get one there. MARY No, but he’s sure to know where it can be got. JOHN Where do they grow, Mary? MARY I don’t know, John; but I am sure they do, somewhere. JOHN Somehow I wish sometimes, I almost wish I could have gone abroad for a week or so to places like where acacias grow naturally. MARY O, would you really, John? JOHN No, not really. But I just think of it sometimes. MARY Where would you have gone? JOHN O, I don’t know. The East or some such place. I’ve often heard people speak of it, and somehow it seemed so. . . MARY The East, John? Not the East. I don’t think the East somehow is quite respectable. JOHN O well, it’s all right, I never went, and never shall go now. It doesn’t matter. MARY [the photographs catching her eye] O, John, I meant to tell you. Such a dreadful thing happened. JOHN What, Mary? MARY Well, Liza was dusting the photographs, and when she came to Jane’s she says she hadn’t really begun to dust it, only looked at it, and it fell down, and that bit of glass is broken right out of it. JOHN Ask her not to look at it so hard another time. MARY O, what do you mean, John? JOHN Well, that’s how she broke it; she said so, and as I know you believe in Liza . . . MARY Well, I can’t think she’d tell a lie, John. JOHN No, of course not. But she mustn’t look so hard another time. MARY And it’s poor little Jane’s photograph. She will feel it so. JOHN O, that’s all right, we’ll get it mended. MARY Still, it’s a dreadful thing to have happened. JOHN We’ll get it mended, and if Jane is unhappy about it she can have Alice’s frame. Alice is too young to notice it. MARY She isn’t, John. She’d notice it quick. JOHN Well, George, then. MARY [looking at photo thoughtfully] Well, perhaps George might give up his frame. JOHN Yes, tell Liza to change it. Why not make her do it now? MARY Not to-day, John. Not on a Sunday.She shall do it to-morrow by the time you get back from the office. JOHN All right. It might have been worse. MARY It’s bad enough. I wish it hadn’t happened. JOHN It might have been worse. It might have been Aunt Martha. MARY I’d sooner it had been her than poor little Jane. JOHN If it had been Aunt Martha’s photograph she’d have walked in next day and seen it for certain; I know Aunt Martha. Then there’d have been trouble. MARY But, John, how could she have known? JOHN I don’t know, but she would have; it’s a kind of devilish sense she has. MARY John! JOHN What’s the matter? MARY John! What a dreadful word you used.And on a Sunday too! Really! JOHN O, I’m sorry. It slipped out somehow. I’m very sorry. [Enter LIZA.] LIZA There’s a gentleman to see you, sir, which isn’t, properly speaking, a gentleman at all. Not what I should call one, that is, like. MARY Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza! Whatever do you mean? LIZA He’s black. MARY Black? JOHN [reassuring] O . . . yes, that would be Ali. A queer old customer, Mary; perfectly harmless. Our firm gets hundreds of carpets through him; and then one day . . . MARY But what is he doing here, John? JOHN Well, one day he turned up in London; broke, he said; and wanted the firm to give him a little cash. Well, old Briggs was for giving him ten shillings. But I said “here’s a man that’s helped us in making thousands of pounds. Let’s give him fifty.” MARY Fifty pounds! JOHN Yes, it seems a lot; but it seemed only fair. Ten shillings would have been an insult to the old fellow, and he’d have taken it as such. You don’t know what he’d have done. MARY Well, he doesn’t want more? JOHN No, I expect he’s come to thank me. He seemed pretty keen on getting some cash. Badly broke, you see. Don’t know what he was doing in London. Never can tell with these fellows. East is East, and there’s an end of it. MARY How did he trace you here? JOHN O, got the address at the office. Briggs and Cater won’t let theirs be known. Not got such a smart little house, I expect. MARY I don’t like letting people in that you don’t know where they come from. JOHN O, he comes from the East. MARY Yes, I–I know. But the East doesn’t seem quite to count, somehow, as the proper sort of place to come from, does it, dear? JOHN No. MARY It’s not like Sydenham or Bromley, some place you can put your finger on. JOHN Perhaps just for once, I don’t think there’s any harm in him. MARY Well, just for once. But we can’t make a practice of it. And you don’t want to be thinking of business on a Sunday, your only day off. JOHN O, it isn’t business, you know. He only wants to say thank you. MARY I hope he won’t say it in some queerEastern way. You don’t know what these people. . . . JOHN O, no. Show him up, Liza. LIZA As you like, mum.[Exit.] MARY And you gave him fifty pounds? JOHN Well, old Briggs agreed to it. So I suppose that’s what he got. Cater paid him. MARY It seems a lot of money. But I think, as the man is actually coming up the stairs, I’m glad he’s got something to be grateful for. [Enter ALI, shown in by LIZA.] ALI Protector of the Just. JOHN O, er–yes. Good evening. ALI My soul was parched and you bathed it in rivers of gold. JOHN O, ah, yes. ALI Wherefore the name Briggs, Cater, and Beal shall be magnified and called blessed. JOHN Ha, yes. Very good of you. ALI [advancing, handing trinket] Protector of the Just, my offering. JOHN Your offering? ALI Hush. It is beyond price. I am notbidden to sell it. I was in my extremity, but I was not bidden to sell it. It is a token of gratitude, a gift, as it came to me. JOHN As it came to you? ALI Yes, it was given me. JOHN I see. Then you had given somebody what you call rivers of gold? ALI Not gold; it was in Sahara. JOHN O, and what do you give in the Sahara instead of gold? ALI Water. JOHN I see. You got it for a glass of water, like. ALI Even so. JOHN And–and what happened? MARY I wouldn’t take his only crystal, dear. It’s a nice little thing, but [to ALI], but you think a lot of it, don’t you? ALI Even so. JOHN But look here, what does it do? ALI Much. JOHN Well, what? ALI He that taketh this crystal, so, in his hand, at night, and wishes, saying “At a certain hour let it be”; the hour comes and he will go back eight, ten, even twelve years if he will, into the past, and do a thing again, or act otherwise than he did. The day passes; the ten years are accomplished once again; he is here once more; but he is what he might have become had he done that one thingotherwise. MARY John! JOHN I–I don’t understand. ALI To-night you wish. All to-morrow youlive the last ten years; a new way, master, a new way, how you please. To-morrow night you are here, what those years have made you. JOHN By Jove! MARY Have nothing to do with it, John. JOHN All right, Mary, I’m not going to. But, do you mean one could go back ten years? ALI Even so. JOHN Well, it seems odd, but I’ll take your word for it. But look here, you can’t live ten years in a day, you know. ALI My master has power over time. MARY John, don’t have anything to do with him. JOHN All right, Mary. But who is your master? ALI He is carved of one piece of jade, a god in the greenest mountains. The years are his dreams. This crystal is his treasure. Guard it safely, for his power is in this more than in all the peaks of his native hills. See what I give you, master. JOHN Well, really, it’s very good of you. MARY Good night, Mr. Ali. We are very much obliged for your kind offer, which we are so sorry we can’t avail ourselves of. JOHN One moment, Mary. Do you mean thatI can go back ten years, and live till–till now again, and only be away a day? ALI Start early and you will be here before midnight. JOHN Would eight o’clock do! ALI You could be back by eleven that evening. JOHN I don’t quite see how ten years could go in a single day. ALI They will go as dreams go. JOHN Even so, it seems rather unusual, doesn’t it? ALI Time is the slave of my master MARY John! JOHN All right, Mary. [In a lower voice.] I’m only trying to see what he’ll say. MARY All right, John, only . . . ALI Is there no step that you would wishuntrodden, nor stride that you would make where once you faltered? JOHN I say, why don’t you use it yourself? ALI I? I am afraid of the past. But youEngleesh, and the great firm of Briggs, Cater, and Beal; you are afraid of nothing. JOHN Ha, ha. Well–I wouldn’t go quite as far as that, but–well, give me the crystal. MARY Don’t take it, John! Don’t take it. JOHN Why, Mary? It won’t hurt me. MARY If it can do all that–if it can do all that . . . JOHN Well? MARY Why, you might never have met me. JOHN Never have met you? I never thought of that. MARY Leave the past alone, John. JOHN All right, Mary. I needn’t use it. But I want to hear about it, it’s so odd, it’s so what-you-might-call queer; I don’t think I ever—– [To ALI.] You mean if I workhard for ten years, which will only be all to-morrow, I may be Governor of the Bank of England to-morrow night. ALI Even so. MARY O, don’t do it, John. JOHN But you said–I’ll be back here before midnight to-morrow. ALI It is so. JOHN But the Governor of the Bank of England would live in the City, and he’d have a much bigger house anyway. He wouldn’t live in Lewisham. ALI The crystal will bring you to this house when the hour is accomplished, eventomorrow night. If you be the great banker you will perhaps come to chastise one of your slaves who will dwell in this house. If you be head of Briggs and Cater you will come to give an edict to one of your firm. Perchance this street will be yours and you will come to show your power unto it. But you will come. JOHN And if the house is not mine? MARY John! John! Don’t. ALI Still you will come. JOHN Shall I remember? ALI No. JOHN If I want to do anything different to what I did, how shall I remember when I get back there? MARY Don’t. Don’t do anything different, John. JOHN All right. ALI Choose just before the hour of the step you desire to change. Memory lingers a little at first, and fades away slowly. JOHN Five minutes? ALI Even ten. JOHN Then I can change one thing. After that I forget. ALI Even so. One thing. And the rest follows. JOHN Well, it’s very good of you to make me this nice present, I’m sure. ALI Sell it not. Give it, as I gave it, if the heart impels. So shall it come back one day to the hills that are brighter than grass, made richer by the gratitude of many men. And mymaster shall smile thereat and the vale shall be glad. JOHN It’s very good of you, I’m sure. MARY I don’t like it, John. I don’t like tampering with what’s gone. ALI My master’s power is in your hands.Farewell. [Exit.] JOHN I say, he’s gone. MARY O, he’s a dreadful man. JOHN I never really meant to take it. MARY O, John, I wish you hadn’t JOHN Why? I’m not going to use it. MARY Not going to use it, John? JOHN No, no. Not if you don’t want me to. MARY O, I’m so glad. JOHN And besides, I don’t want things different. I’ve got fond of this little house. And Briggs is a good old sort, you know. Cater’s a bit of an ass, but there’s no harm in him. In fact, I’m contented, Mary. I wouldn’t even change Aunt Martha now. [Points at frowning framed photograph centrally hung.] You remember when she first came andyou said “Where shall we hang her?” I said the cellar. You said we couldn’t. So she had to go there. But I wouldn’t change her now. I suppose there are old watch-dogs like her in every family. I wouldn’t change anything. MARY O, John, wouldn’t you really? JOHN No, I’m contented. Grim old soul, Iwouldn’t even change Aunt Martha. MARY I’m glad of that, John. I was frightened. I couldn’t bear to tamper with the past. You don’t know what it is, it’s what’s gone. But if it really isn’t gone at all, if it can be dug up like that, why you don’t know whatmightn’t happen! I don’t mind the future, but if the past can come back like that…. O, don’t, don’t, John. Don’t think of it. It isn’t canny. There’s the children, John. JOHN Yes, yes, that’s all right. It’s only a little ornament. I won’t use it. And I tell you I’m content. [Happily] It’s no use to me. MARY I’m so glad you’re content, John. Are you really? Is there nothing that you’d have had different? I sometimes thought you’d rather that Jane had been a boy. JOHN Not a bit of it. Well, I may have at the time, but Arthur’s good enough for me. MARY I’m so glad. And there’s nothing you ever regret at all? JOHN Nothing. And you? Is there nothing you regret, Mary? MARY Me? Oh, no. I still think that sofa would have been better green, but you would have it red. JOHN Yes, so I would. No, there’s nothing I regret. MARY I don’t suppose there’s many men can say that. JOHN No, I don’t suppose they can. They’re not all married to you. I don’t supposemany of them can. [MARY smiles.] MARY I should think that very few could say that they regretted nothing . . . very few in the whole world. JOHN Well, I won’t say nothing. MARY What is it you regret, John? JOHN Well, there is one thing. MARY And what is that? JOHN One thing has rankled a bit. MARY Yes, John? JOHN O, it’s nothing, it’s nothing worthmentioning. But it rankled for years. MARY What was it, John? JOHN O, it seems silly to mention it. It was nothing. MARY But what? JOHN O, well, if you want to know, it was once when I missed a train. I don’t mind missing a train, but it was the way the porter pushed me out of the way. He pushed me by theface. I couldn’t hit back, because, well, you know what lawyers make of it; I might have been ruined. So it just rankled. It was years ago before we married. MARY Pushed you by the face. Good gracious! JOHN Yes, I’d like to have caught that train in spite of him. I sometimes think of it still. Silly of me, isn’t it? MARY What a brute of a man. JOHN O, I suppose he was doing his silly duty. But it rankled. MARY He’d no right to do any such thing! He’d no right to touch you! JOHN O, well, never mind. MARY I should like to have been there. . . I’d have . . . JOHN O, well, it can’t be helped now; but I’d like to have caught it in sp . . .[An idea seizes him.] MARY What is it? JOHN Can’t be helped, I said. It’s the very thing that can be helped. MARY Can be helped, John? Whatever do youmean? JOHN I mean he’d no right to stop me catching that train. I’ve got the crystal, and I’ll catch it yet! MARY O, John, that’s what you said you wouldn’t do. JOHN No. I said I’d do nothing to alter the past. And I won’t. I’m too content, Mary. Butthis can’t alter it. This is nothing. MARY What were you going to catch the train for, John? JOHN For London. I wasn’t at the office then. It was a business appointment. There was a man who had promised to get me a job, and I was going up to . . . MARY John, it may alter your whole life! JOHN Now do listen, Mary, do listen. He never turned up. I got a letter from him apologising to me before I posted mine to him. Itturned out he never meant to help me, mere meaningless affabilities. He never came to London that day at all. I should have taken the next train back. That can’t affect the future. MARY N-no, John. Still, I don’t like it. JOHN What difference could it make? MARY N-n-no. JOHN Think how we met. We met at ARCHIE’swedding. I take it one has to go to one’s brother’s wedding. It would take a pretty big change to alter that. And. you were her bridesmaid. We were bound to meet. Andhaving once met, well, there you are. If we’d met by chance, in a train, or anything like that, well, then I admit some little change might alter it. But when we met at ARCHIE’s wedding and you were her bridesmaid, why, Mary, it’s a cert. Besides, I believe in predestination. It was our fate; we couldn’t have missed it. MARY No, I suppose not; still . . JOHN Well, what? MARY I don’t like it. JOHN O, Mary, I have so longed to catch that infernal train. Just think of it, annoyed on and off for ten years by the eight-fifteen. MARY I’d rather you didn’t, John. JOHN But why? MARY O, John, suppose there’s a railwayaccident? You might be killed, and we should never meet. JOHN There wasn’t. MARY There wasn’t, John? What do you mean? JOHN There wasn’t an accident to the eight-fifteen. It got safely to London just ten years ago. MARY Why, nor there was. JOHN You see how groundless your fears are. I shall catch that train, and all the rest will happen the same as before. Just thinkMary, all those old days again. I wish I could take you with me. But you soon will be. But just think of the old days coming back again. Hampton Court again and Kew, and Richmond Park again with all the May. And that bun you bought, and the corkedginger-beer, and those birds singing and the ‘bus past Isleworth. O, Mary, you wouldn’t grudge me that? MARY Well, well then all right, John. JOHN And you will remember there wasn’t an accident, won’t you? MARY [resignedly, sadly] O, yes, John. And you won’t try to get rich or do anything silly, will you? JOHN No, Mary. I only want to catch thattrain. I’m content with the rest. The same things must happen, and they must lead me the same way, to you, Mary. Good night,now, dear. MARY Good night? JOHN I shall stay here on the sofa holding the crystal and thinking. Then I’ll have abiscuit and start at seven. MARY Thinking, John? What about? JOHN Getting it clear in my mind what I want to do. That one thing and the rest the same. There must be no mistakes. MARY [sadly] Good night, John. JOHN Have supper ready at eleven. MARY Very well, John.[Exit.] JOHN [on the sofa, after a moment or two] I’ll catch that infernal train in spite of him. [He takes the crystal and closes it up in the palm of his left hand.] I wish to go back ten years, two weeks and a day, at, at–8.10 a.m. to-morrow; 8.10 a.m. to-morrow, 8.10. [Re-enter MARY in doorway.] MARY John! John! You are sure he did gethis fifty pounds? JOHN Yes. Didn’t he come to thank me for the money? MARY You are sure it wasn’t ten shillings? JOHN Cater paid him, I didn’t. MARY Are you sure that Cater didn’t give him ten shillings? JOHN It’s the sort of silly thing Cater would have done! MARY O, John! JOHN Hmm. Curtain SCENE 3 Scene: As in Act I, Scene 1.Time. Ten years ago. BERT ‘Ow goes it, Bill? BILL Goes it? ‘Ow d’yer think it goes? BERT I don’t know, Bill. ‘Ow is it? BILL Bloody. BERT Why, what’s wrong? BILL Wrong? Nothing ain’t wrong. BERT What’s up, then? BILL Nothing ain’t right. BERT Why, wot’s the worry? BILL Wot’s the worry? They don’t give youbetter wages nor a dog, and then they thinks they can talk at yer and talk at yer, and say wot they likes, like. BERT Why? You been on the carpet, Bill? BILL Ain’t I! Proper. BERT Why? Wot about, Bill? BILL Wot about? I’ll tell yer. Just coz I let a lidy get into a train. That’s wot about. Said I ought to ‘av stopped ‘er. Thought the train was moving. Thought it was dangerous. Thought I tried to murder ‘er, I suppose. BERT Wot? The other day? BILL Yes. BERT? Tuesday? BILL Yes. BERT Why? The one that dropped her bag? BILL Yes. Drops ‘er bag. Writes to thecompany. They writes back she shouldn’t ‘av got in. She writes back she should. Then they gets on to me. Any more of it and I’ll. . . BERT I wouldn’t, Bill; don’t you. BILL I will. BERT Don’t you, Bill. You’ve got your family to consider. BILL Well, anyway, I won’t let any more of them passengers go jumping into trains any more, not when they’re moving, I won’t.When the train gets in, doors shut. That’s the rule, and they’ll have to abide by it. [Enter JOHN BEAL.] BILL [touching his hat]Good morning, sir. [JOHN does not answer, but walks to the door between them.] Carry your bag, sir? JOHN Go to hell! [Exit through door.] BILL Ullo. BERT Somebody’s been getting at ‘im. BILL Well, I never did. Why, I knows the young feller. BERT Pleasant spoken, ain’t ‘e, as a rule? BILL Never knew ‘im like this. BERT You ain’t bin sayin’ nothing to ‘im, ‘ave yer? BILL Never in my life. BERT Well, I never. BILL ‘Ad some trouble o’ some kind. BERT Must ‘ave. [Train is heard.] BILL Ah, ‘ere she is. Well, as I was saying . . . Curtain SCENE 4 In a second-class railway carriage. Time: Same morning as Scene 1, Act I. Noise, and a scene drawn past thewindows. The scene, showing amomentary glimpse of fair English hills, is almost entirely placards, “GIVE HERBOVRIL,” “GIVE HER OXO,”alternately, for ever. Occupants, JOHN BEAL, a girl, a man. All sit in stoical silence like the two images near Luxor. The man has thewindow seat, and therefore the right of control over the window. MIRALDA CLEMENT Would you mind having the window open? THE MAN IN THE CORNER [shrugging hisshoulders in a shivery way] Er–certainly. [Meaning he does not mind. He opens the window.] MIRALDA CLEMENT Thank you so much. MAN IN THE CORNER Not at all. [He does not mean to contradict her. Stoical silence again.] MIRALDA CLEMENT Would you mind having it shut now? Ithink it is rather cold. MAN IN THE CORNER Certainly. [He shuts it. Silence again.] MIRALDA CLEMENT I think I’d like the window open again now for a bit. It is rather stuffy, isn’t it? MAN IN THE CORNER Well, I think it’s very cold. MIRALDA CLEMENT O, do you? But would you mind opening it for me? MAN IN THE CORNER I’d much rather it was shut, if you don’t mind. [She sighs, moves her hands slightly, and her pretty face expresses the resignation of the Christian martyr in the presence oflions. This for the benefit of John.] JOHN Allow me, madam. [He leans across the window’s rightful owner, a bigger man than he, and opens his window. MAN IN THE CORNER shrugs his shoulders and, quite sensibly, turns to his paper.] MIRALDA O, thank you so much. JOHN Don’t mention it. [Silence again.] VOICES OF PORTERS [Off] Fan Kar, Fan Kar. [MAN IN THE CORNER gets out.] MIRALDA Could you tell me where this is? JOHN Yes. Elephant and Castle. MIRALDA Thank you so much. It was kind of you to protect me from that horrid man. He wanted to suffocate me. JOHN O, very glad to assist you, I’m sure. Very glad. MIRALDA I should have been afraid to have done it in spite of him. It was splendid of you. JOHN O, that was nothing. MIRALDA O, it was, really. JOHN Only too glad to help you in any little way. MIRALDA It was so kind of you. JOHN O, not at all. [Silence for a bit.] MIRALDA I’ve nobody to help me. JOHN Er, er, haven’t you really? MIRALDA No, nobody. JOHN I’d be very glad to help you in any little way. MIRALDA I wonder if you could advise me. JOHN I–I’d do my best. MIRALDA You see, I have nobody to advise me. JOHN No, of course not. MIRALDA I live with my aunt, and she doesn’tunderstand. I’ve no father or mother. JOHN O, er, er, really? MIRALDA No. And an uncle died and he left me a hundred thousand pounds. JOHN Really? MIRALDA Yes. He didn’t like me. I think he did it out of contrariness as much as anything. He was always like that to me. JOHN Was he? Was he really? MIRALDA Yes. It was invested at twenty-five per cent. He never liked me. Thought I wastoo–I don’t know what. JOHN No. MIRALDA That was five years ago, and I’ve never got a penny of it. JOHN Really. But, but that’s not right. MIRALDA [sadly] No. JOHN Where’s it invested? MIRALDA In Al Shaldomir. JOHN Where’s that? MIRALDA I don’t quite know. I never was good at geography. I never quite knew where Persia ends. JOHN And what kind of an investment was it? MIRALDA There’s a pass in some mountains that they can get camels over, and a huge toll is levied on everything that goes by; that is the custom of the tribe that lives there, and I believe the toll is regularly collected. JOHN And who gets it? MIRALDA The chief of the tribe. He is called Ben Hussein. But my uncle lent him all this