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Page 39
BILL [his voice and accent suddenly improving] Not if I was to
starve for it. I ain't to be bought.
SHIRLEY. Ain't you? You'd sell yourself to the devil for a pint o
beer; ony there ain't no devil to make the offer.
BILL [unshamed] So I would, mate, and often av, cheerful. But she
cawn't buy me. [Approaching Barbara] You wanted my soul, did you?
Well, you ain't got it.
BARBARA. I nearly got it, Bill. But we've sold it back to you for
ten thousand pounds.
SHIRLEY. And dear at the money!
BARBARA. No, Peter: it was worth more than money.
BILL [salvationproof] It's no good: you cawn't get rahnd me nah.
I don't blieve in it; and I've seen today that I was
right. [Going] So long, old soupkitchener! Ta, ta, Major Earl's
Grendorter! [Turning at the gate] Wot prawce Selvytion nah?
Snobby Prawce! Ha! ha!
BARBARA [offering her hand] Goodbye, Bill.
BILL [taken aback, half plucks his cap off then shoves it on
again defiantly] Git aht. [Barbara drops her hand, discouraged.
He has a twinge of remorse]. But thet's aw rawt, you
knaow. Nathink pasnl. Naow mellice. So long, Judy. [He
goes].
BARBARA. No malice. So long, Bill.
SHIRLEY [shaking his head] You make too much of him, miss, in
your innocence.
BARBARA [going to him] Peter: I'm like you now. Cleaned out, and
lost my job.
SHIRLEY. You've youth an hope. That's two better than me. That's
hope for you.
BARBARA. I'll get you a job, Peter, the youth will have to be
enough for me. [She counts her money]. I have just enough left
for two teas at Lockharts, a Rowton doss for you, and my tram and
bus home. [He frowns and rises with offended pride. She takes his
arm]. Don't be proud, Peter: it's sharing between friends. And
promise me you'll talk to me and not let me cry. [She draws him
towards the gate].
SHIRLEY. Well, I'm not accustomed to talk to the like of you--
BARBARA [urgently] Yes, yes: you must talk to me. Tell me about
Tom Paine's books and Bradlaugh's lectures. Come along.
SHIRLEY. Ah, if you would only read Tom Paine in the proper
spirit, miss! [They go out through the gate together].
ACT III
Next day after lunch Lady Britomart is writing in the library in
Wilton Crescent. Sarah is reading in the armchair near the
window. Barbara, in ordinary dresss, pale and brooding, is on the
settee. Charley Lomax enters. Coming forward between the settee
and the writing table, he starts on seeing Barbara fashionably
attired and in low spirits.
LOMAX. You've left off your uniform!
Barbara says nothing; but an expression of pain passes over
her face.
LADY BRITOMART [warning him in low tones to be careful] Charles!
LOMAX [much concerned, sitting down sympathetically on the settee
beside Barbara] I'm awfully sorry, Barbara. You know I helped you
all I could with the concertina and so forth. [Momentously]
Still, I have never shut my eyes to the fact that there is a
certain amount of tosh about the Salvation Army. Now the claims
of the Church of England--
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