IV
At noon on Saturday they were all there, not excluding Mr.¬ÝOakoyd, whose pipe was still in his mouth but quite cold and empty and whose little cap was as far back on his head as it could possibly go, two facts that proved beyond doubt that he was uneasy in his mind. They were all uneasy, subdued; and when they spoke their voices were quieter than usual. It was a morning as cold and grey as slate. Every few seconds one of them either coughed or yawned, and they all looked tired. Inigo, glancing every now and then at Susie, wondered if she too was ill, or all her sparkle was gone and she was pale and heavy-eyed. Nothing had been heard of either Jimmy or Jerry Jerningham, and they all had the air of being survivors after a shipwreck.
‚ÄúI think you‚Äôll agree,‚Äù Miss Trant began, with a curious return to her earlier half-nervous, half-detached manner and clipped speech, ‚Äúthat we‚Äôve got to decide what‚Äôs to be done. To begin with‚ÅÝ‚Äîabout tonight. Is it worth while giving a performance at all?‚Äù
“No, it isn’t,” said Elsie. “Last night was ghastly. They’ll be throwing things tonight.”
‚ÄúPreposterous!‚Äù This was from Mr.¬ÝMorton Mitcham, who drew himself up to his full height and menaced Elsie with his eyebrows. ‚ÄúWhy shouldn‚Äôt we give a show? There are six of us, aren‚Äôt there? I call it turning good money away not to give a show. Why, one of us‚ÅÝ‚Äîjust one of us‚ÅÝ‚Äîis too good for Tewborough, let alone six of us. I‚Äôve known the time when a whole drama and vaudeville show thrown in were done with less than six. I myself‚ÅÝ‚Äîallow me to say‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Oh yes, we know!” Elsie put in rudely. “Out there in Timbuktu, way back in Eighty-three, you worked miracles. We know all about that.”
‚ÄúYou know nothing,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝMitcham with great scorn. ‚ÄúYou haven‚Äôt had a chance to learn. You‚Äôve been nowhere. You‚Äôve seen nothing. Ignorance, that‚Äôs your trouble, young lady, sheer ignorance.‚Äù
‚ÄúOh, you go and‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù Elsie exploded.
‚ÄúNow that won‚Äôt do, my dear,‚Äù Mrs.¬ÝJoe cried hastily. ‚ÄúDo not let us forget ourselves, please. We‚Äôre having our Trials and Troubles I know‚ÅÝ‚Äîor if I don‚Äôt, then who does, my word! But don‚Äôt let‚Äôs descend to Name-calling and‚ÅÝ‚Äîand‚ÅÝ‚ÄîBaydinarge and Rudenesses.‚Äù And Mrs.¬ÝJoe sat up erect, looked very dignified indeed for about two seconds, but then unfortunately was compelled to sneeze.
‚ÄúWell, I say‚ÅÝ‚Äîgive tonight a miss,‚Äù said Elsie sullenly.
‚ÄúAnd I say you‚Äôre rotten mean,‚Äù Susie blazed out, ‚Äúto think of it. Here‚Äôs Miss Trant dropped an awful lot on the week and you don‚Äôt even want to give a chance to get something back. After all, it‚Äôs Saturday and there‚Äôs sure to be some sort of a house tonight. What‚Äôs the sense of turning the money away, as Mr.¬ÝMitcham says. We can give them a jolly sight better show even now than they can appreciate, if I know Tewborough.‚Äù
“Half a minute, though, Susie,” said Joe in his slow honest fashion. “It’s Miss Trant who’s asking us if it’s worth it, so I don’t see you can fairly blame Elsie for saying it isn’t. It seems to me it’s for Miss Trant herself to decide. I’m sure we’ll all do our best, but if she thinks this is going to give us a bad name, and it might, then she’d better call it off.”
“What do you think?” asked Miss Trant, turning to Inigo, to whom she felt closer, in this present mood, than she did to any of the others, for, like her, he was a newcomer to this world.
Inigo shrugged his shoulders. “It’s all the same to me. If it was a matter of leaving this graveyard of a town, I’d say, let’s go at once, for I believe it’s simply this place that’s done us in, absolutely. But if we’ve got to stay here, we might as well give the show tonight. It’s practice for us; it might brighten somebody’s evening here; and though I’ll bet all the money we take tonight won’t go very far, it’ll help you, Miss Trant, to bring down the loss a bit. On the other hand, if you say, Let’s pack up and go, on to the next place, over the hills and far away, I’m your man, absolutely.”
There was a murmur of assent, but Miss Trant sprang to her feet, walked a yard or two, then faced them all. “But now I come to the next thing,” she cried. “Are we going to other places? Is it worth while going on at all? That’s what I’m asking myself.”
She stopped and there was a little chorus of exclamations, through which the voice of Mrs.¬ÝJoe could be heard repeating, in tragic tones: ‚ÄúI knew it. I knew it.‚Äù
‚ÄúPlease don‚Äôt misunderstand me,‚Äù Miss Trant went on. ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs not money I‚Äôm thinking about, though I‚Äôve lost a good deal, as you must realize, especially this week. And you mustn‚Äôt imagine for a moment I‚Äôm rich, because I‚Äôm not. It was only because some money came unexpectedly that I was able to do this at all. But it isn‚Äôt that, though naturally it‚Äôs rather dreadful continually losing money. It‚Äôs something else‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù She hesitated.
“May I say something, Miss Trant?” said Elsie, rather sulkily. “If it’s this week that’s bowled you over, I hope you’ll remember you brought us here, that it was your idea taking this stinking brute of a theatre.”
“You are the limit,” cried Susie, looking as if she was ready to silence her forever. “Won’t you be quiet!”
“Why should I be?” demanded Elsie.
“Grrr!” There was exasperation, indignation, disgust, and we know not what beside in this fierce noise that Susie made.
But now she turned to Miss Trant: “You’re not really going to chuck it, are you, Miss Trant? I know we’ve done badly so far, but really we haven’t had a chance yet.”
“Not a dog’s,” said Joe gloomily.
‚ÄúI realize that just as well as you do,‚Äù Miss Trant told them. ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs not that at all. It‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äîit‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhat has happened this week that makes me feel I‚Äôve had enough of it. Oh, I know this place has been awful and I brought you here. I never ought to have rented this dreadful, abominable theatre‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI know that‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI made a mistake, and I‚Äôm paying dearly for it. But you might have stood by me‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúStood by you, Miss Trant!‚Äù cried Mrs.¬ÝJoe, throwing up her hands and glancing round with a look of deep despair. ‚ÄúNever was any manager of mine so stood by as you‚Äôve been by me this week. If it had been Drury Lane I couldn‚Äôt have done more, and wouldn‚Äôt have done so much. Night after night, I‚Äôve come here rising from a Sickbed. ‚ÄòNo,‚Äô I said to Joe, when he begged me to stay in and look after myself, ‚Äòmy Duty‚Äôs there. If it was anybody but Miss Trant, I wouldn‚Äôt do it,‚Äô I told him. Weren‚Äôt those my very words, Joe?‚Äù
“That’s right,” said Joe, staring very hard at nothing in particular.
‚ÄúI‚Äôve no doubt whatever you did your best, Mrs.¬ÝBrundit,‚Äù Miss Trant went on, a trifle wearily. ‚ÄúBut I can‚Äôt get away from the feeling that the party as a whole has let me down this week. This was my special venture‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI admit it‚Äôs turned out to be a very silly one‚ÅÝ‚Äîand you ought to have backed me up. Instead of that, the party has gone to pieces‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúYou can‚Äôt blame us because Jimmy had a heart attack or whatever it was,‚Äù Elsie interrupted. ‚ÄúAnd as for some people‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù She stopped and looked significantly at Mr.¬ÝMitcham, who for his part tried not very successfully to pretend she wasn‚Äôt there.
‚ÄúYes, yes, that was our bad luck,‚Äù cried Miss Trant impatiently. ‚ÄúThat couldn‚Äôt be helped, but other things could‚ÅÝ‚Äîquarrelling, not bothering about the show, not trying to make the best of it, leaving the rest of us in the lurch‚ÅÝ‚Äîoh, you must know what I mean! If you don‚Äôt, it doesn‚Äôt matter; I‚Äôm only trying to explain myself. I feel the whole thing‚Äôs gone to pieces.‚Äù
“I’ll never, never forgive Jerry Jerningham as long as I live for going off like that,” Susie exclaimed.
‚ÄúThat boy‚Äôs yellow,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝMitcham, and he said it in such a way as to hint that he had known this all along and was rather surprised that the others had not noticed it too.
“I suppose he has gone,” Susie said doubtfully.
‚ÄúYes, he must have gone,‚Äù Miss Trant replied, with a kind of weary contempt in her voice. ‚ÄúHe‚Äôs left his things behind, but probably he preferred to go without them rather than stay here. You called again this morning, didn‚Äôt you?‚Äù she asked Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, who was dismally sucking his empty pipe in the background.
“Ay, I went and left t’message to say we was having a bit of a meeting here, if he came back. T’landlady said she’d heard nowt, and I fancy by t’look on her she’d just been takking stock o’ his booits and shirts and collars to see how much they’d fetch in case she heard no more on him.”
“We’ve seen the last of that bright boy,” said Elsie. “He’d a lot to say about Mildenhall, when he went and did the dirty on us, but he’s no better himself, as he’ll hear from me if ever I set eyes on him again.”
‚ÄúWell there you are,‚Äù Miss Trant told them. ‚ÄúThe first real test‚ÅÝ‚Äîand‚ÅÝ‚Äîlook what‚Äôs happened. Can you blame me if I feel we can‚Äôt go on? It‚Äôs not been easy for me to do what I have done‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI don‚Äôt mean about money, but simply that I knew nothing about the Stage and didn‚Äôt understand this life‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI had to take what seemed to me an awful sort of plunge. And what attracted me, I think, more than anything at first was the way you were all so loyal and kept so cheerful and friendly under the most horrible conditions. And now‚ÅÝ‚Äîwell‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚Äôm afraid I don‚Äôt see it like that any more.‚Äù
After her voice had trailed away into silence, nobody spoke, nobody stirred, for what seemed quite a long time. It was so quiet that they could hear, coming from the forgotten world into that strange shrouded place, the sound of the factory buzzers in the town.
Then Susie stood up. ‚ÄúNo, I suppose I can‚Äôt blame you, Miss Trant,‚Äù she said tonelessly. ‚ÄúBut‚ÅÝ‚Äîoh, I‚Äôm sorry. You don‚Äôt know how sorry I am.‚Äù There were tears in her voice now, and she swung round and walked to the side of the stage, where Mr.¬ÝOakroyd was standing.
‚ÄúNay, lass,‚Äù he said, ‚Äútak‚Äô it easy, tak‚Äô it easy.‚Äù Then he rubbed his chin hard, tried to push his cap further back still, finally pushed it off his head altogether, picked it up and jammed it on again, then stepped forward and manfully spoke up. ‚ÄúNar then,‚Äù he began, ‚ÄúI don‚Äôt suppose onny on yer want to hear what I‚Äôve got to say, but as nobody seems to be saying owt just nar, happen you‚Äôll listen a minute. And I say, Stick it. Don‚Äôt give up, Miss Trant. Have another do at it. Nar don‚Äôt get into your head I‚Äôm saying this ‚Äôcos I don‚Äôt want to lose mi‚Äô job‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI don‚Äôt want to lose it, I‚Äôll tell you straight, specially nar as I knaw t‚Äôropes‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut it isn‚Äôt that. I fair hate thought o‚Äô a thing coming to nowt afore it‚Äôs got started. Nivver let it be said that this here Tewborough took all t‚Äôheart out on us. Tewborough be damned, I say. We can show it.‚Äù
“That’s the stuff, Master Oakroyd,” cried Inigo enthusiastically. “I’m with you there, absolutely.”
‚ÄúIt‚Äôs nobbut a matter o‚Äô turning a corner,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝOakroyd earnestly addressing himself to Miss Trant. ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs allus same wi‚Äô iverything. Stick it, get round t‚Äôcorner, and you‚Äôre there. Gi‚Äô this up nar and it‚Äôs all flummoxed, might as well nivver ha‚Äô started. Nobbut go on a bit, and you nivver knaw, happen in a fort-nit or fower week you‚Äôre coining brass and they can‚Äôt mak‚Äô enough on you. Nay,‚Äù he cried reproachfully, ‚Äúwe‚Äôre on t‚Äôroad, aren‚Äôt we? There‚Äôs down‚Äôs as well as ups. This here‚Äôs down all right. What of it? We‚Äôll get on t‚Äôroad agen, chance it, and‚ÅÝ‚Äîmark my words‚ÅÝ‚Äîif we‚Äôre not up, right at top o‚Äôt‚Äôtree, a‚Äômost afore you can say Jack Robi‚Äôson, nay, I‚Äôll eat this cap.‚Äù And Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, carried away by his own eloquence, plucked off his cap, held it out, jammed it on his head once more, and turned away.
“Darling!” cried Susie tearfully as he passed her.
He replied by giving her a wink, not a jolly impudent wink but a stammering embarrassed wink, which announced that he knew quite well that he had been making a fool of himself. It would take a man years to live down such an emotional outburst in Bruddersford.
There was hardly time for the others to say anything before the voice of Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, this time raised in expostulation, was heard again, coming from that part of the theatre to which he had retired. Everybody looked up and waited expectantly. Something was about to happen, their attitudes said, and they were glad of it.
A large, glittering, jangling woman charged into the centre of the group on the stage, and looked about her wildly.
“Lady Partlit!” cried Susie and Inigo together, at once recognizing their acquaintance of the hotel outside Hicklefield.
‚ÄúYes, yes. How d‚Äôyou do? Of course!‚Äù Lady Partlit babbled, trying to see everyone at once, so that she seemed to be spinning like a top. ‚ÄúI‚Äôm sorry to come like this. Must be intruding. But they told me‚ÅÝ‚Äîhere. Is he here? Oh, where is he?‚Äù And she beat her little fat hands together.
Miss Trant was staring, amazed. ‚ÄúI don‚Äôt understand,‚Äù she began blankly. ‚ÄúWho‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhat‚ÅÝ‚Äîis it‚ÅÝ‚Äî?‚Äù
Susie darted forward. “Is it,” she gasped, “Jerry Jerningham?”
Lady Partlit was at once so excited, anxious, confused, that she looked exactly like an agitated parrot. ‚ÄúYes, of course, Mr.¬ÝJerningham. It‚Äôs been all all a mistake, I assure you, and of course I can explain everything to him when I see him. Are you sure, are you really sure, he‚Äôs not here? Because,‚Äù she concluded wildly, ‚Äúhe‚Äôs gone.‚Äù
They assured her that Mr.¬ÝJerningham was not there, and would have asked her all manner of questions‚ÅÝ‚Äîfor they were all bursting with curiosity‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut she did not give them time. ‚ÄúMiss Trant, are you?‚Äù she went on, rushing across to jangle in front of that astonished woman. ‚ÄúSo disturbing for you, of course, and so nice of you not to mind about my coming like this.‚Äù Then she rushed back to Susie, whom she apparently regarded as the one member of the party likely to be sympathetic. ‚ÄúA complete misunderstanding from beginning to end, I do assure you, Miss Bean, Miss Dean, and all meant in the friendliest way. But he simply went off, went off without a single word, and I was sure I should find him here. And of course you‚Äôre all thinking it‚Äôs so strange of me, coming and behaving like this, intruding too, but I had to come if there was any chance at all of explaining to him, you see. And of course it‚Äôs worse than ever, with no one here knowing anything about him.‚Äù
“He’s been missing for two days,” said Susie.
“Yes, I know that. That I can explain,” Lady Partlit began, when a sound made her look across and she gave a little scream. “There you are,” she gasped.
And there Mr.¬ÝJerningham was, looking anything but his usual exquisite self. He jumped and turned crimson at the sight of Lady Partlit, who now hurried across the stage towards him.
“Go away,” he screamed, backing a step or two.
‚ÄúBut it‚Äôs all been a mistake‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Ai don’t waarnt to hear anything,” he shrieked. Then, with mounting fury, he added: “Thet man took away mai trousers. He deliberately took them away. You told him to.”
“Only to brush them,” Lady Partlit wailed.
‚ÄúNat to brush at all,‚Äù Mr.¬ÝJerningham cried, wagging a finger at her. ‚ÄúHe just took them away. Then he laughed at me. Look, look, what Ai had to put on.‚Äù And everybody looked at once and discovered with joy that Mr.¬ÝJerningham was wearing a pair of very dirty khaki trousers of a kind that might possibly be used by an under-gardener faced with a morning‚Äôs rough work. When Mr.¬ÝJerningham saw all their eyes fixed upon his awful trousers, he was angrier than ever with poor Lady Partlit, and told her to go away at once and that he never wanted to set eyes on her again. Distressed and still babbling, she was led away by Susie, who accompanied her to the stage door.
‚ÄúVery sweet of you, my dear, I‚Äôm sure,‚Äù said Lady Partlit, brokenly, tearfully. ‚ÄúI felt so unhappy about it, and you will say as little as you can, won‚Äôt you? I‚Äôve an old friend lives near here, not twenty miles away, and I came specially to see‚ÅÝ‚Äîto see you all. That was on Thursday, and then I sent a note, just a friendly note, to Mr.¬ÝJerningham, and sent the car round for him, to bring him out. I thought‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe‚Äôs so clever, isn‚Äôt he?‚ÅÝ‚Äîand I thought I might be able to help him, though I didn‚Äôt tell him that, my dear, didn‚Äôt tell him how I might be able to‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou know‚ÅÝ‚Äîassist him in his career, because I thought‚ÅÝ‚Äîwell, we ought to be friendly first, because you can help a friend, can‚Äôt you? And then of course I never knew my friend would be called away like that, and never dreamt for a moment there would be that difficulty with the car on Friday afternoon, and I do assure you, my dear, that it was all a mistake and a misunderstanding about the‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe trousers. He‚Äôs so bitter about them, isn‚Äôt he? I‚Äôm sure he‚Äôll never forgive me, but perhaps some time soon, you‚Äôll perhaps just‚ÅÝ‚Äîer‚ÅÝ‚Äîsay something to him, will you? But of course don‚Äôt talk about it, will you? I know I can rely on you not to do that. And if there‚Äôs anything, anything, I can do for you, at any time, my dear‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou‚Äôre so clever too, aren‚Äôt you? And it‚Äôs been so nice of me‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI mean, of you‚ÅÝ‚Äîthat is, so nice seeing you again, hasn‚Äôt it? Do I‚ÅÝ‚ÄîOh, here‚ÅÝ‚Äîyes, of course. Dear, dear, I must stop one minute before I go out‚ÅÝ‚Äîso upsetting rushing in like this, and then‚ÅÝ‚Äîeverything such a mistake‚ÅÝ‚Äîhasn‚Äôt it? Goodbye.‚Äù
Susie stood looking after her a moment, drew a deep breath, then returned to the stage, humming a little tune that seemed to amuse her. Mr.¬ÝJerningham was still apologizing and protesting to a bewildered Miss Trant, but he gave no sign of being willing to gratify everybody‚Äôs curiosity. Susie took him aside as soon as she could. ‚ÄúDo you know who that was?‚Äù she inquired, not without malice.
“Mai dear Susie,” he protested, “down’t talk about that harrible woman. She’s a fet middle-aged vemp, thet’s what she is.”
“You know she’s Lady Partlit and very rich, don’t you?” Susie went on.
“As a metter of feet, Ai do,” he replied loftily, “and Ai don’t care.”
“But what you don’t know, my dear Jerry,” she continued softly, “is that she practically controls two West End theatres, mostly running musical comedies and revues.”
‚ÄúMai God!‚Äù Mr.¬ÝJerningham turned pale and looked at her with horror. ‚ÄúAnd to think‚ÅÝ‚Äî!‚Äù The thought was too much for him, but as he looked away it chanced that he caught sight of the trousers he was wearing. ‚ÄúAi don‚Äôt care,‚Äù he said stoutly, ‚Äúshe shouldn‚Äôt have told the man to take mai trousers.‚Äù Nevertheless, he was thoughtful for some time, and it was many weeks before he completely lost a certain brooding air.
“Of course, this does make some difference,” Miss Trant was saying, when they returned to her side. She let the others chatter a little while she considered their position. She did not understand yet exactly what had happened to Jerningham, but it was quite clear that he had not deliberately absented himself. He had vehemently insisted on the fact that it was no fault of his he had missed last night’s show, and was genuinely indignant at the suggestion that he had failed them.
‚ÄúNar then,‚Äù cried the voice of Mr.¬ÝOakroyd triumphantly, ‚Äúwhat about this?‚Äù Somebody was with him.
“Well, boys and girls!”
“Jimmy!” cried Susie, rushing at him. The next moment they were all round him, nearly shaking his hand off.
‚ÄúThere‚Äôs a doctor in Mirley‚ÅÝ‚Äîthat‚Äôs where I‚Äôve been‚ÅÝ‚Äîwho‚Äôs a marvel, a wonder, a miracle,‚Äù Jimmy announced solemnly. He still looked rather pale and shaky, but he was obviously much better. ‚ÄúHe‚Äôs only young and he‚Äôs got a bit of a squint and his teeth stick out‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut, let me tell you, he could raise the dead, that chap. I went to see him, and he talked and tapped, and tapped and talked, until I got fed up. ‚ÄòAll right, doc,‚Äô I says, ‚Äòdon‚Äôt mind me. Give me six months and get ready to sign in the space provided for that purpose on the form.‚Äô He laughed. ‚ÄòNonsense,‚Äô he says, ‚ÄòI can make a new man of you. When did you see a doctor last?‚Äô So I told him. Four years ago. ‚ÄòThought so,‚Äô he says. ‚ÄòAnd what have you been doing to yourself since?‚Äô So I told him. Trying this and that. ‚ÄòThought so,‚Äô he says again. ‚ÄòNow you listen to me.‚Äô And he gives me some medicine to take and tells me what to do with myself. Then it was my turn, and by this time the wife wasn‚Äôt in the room. ‚ÄòHave I to stop here and do no work?‚Äô I asked him. ‚ÄòBecause if so, I shall be dead anyhow. If you tell me right out,‚Äô I told him, ‚Äòto get back to the boards, where I belong, you‚Äôll complete the cure. And don‚Äôt just tell me,‚Äô I says, ‚Äòbut tell my wife as well.‚Äô So he told me to see him again and then he‚Äôd let me know. I tipped him the wink all right. He knew what was what. ‚ÄòDo him no harm to get back to work,‚Äô he said this morning. ‚ÄòMay do him good.‚Äô Collapse of the opposition! So here I am, Miss Trant, boys and girls, and so long as I take one dose before meals and one after, I‚Äôm fit and ready to crack the old wheezes.‚Äù
“We were only talking just now, Jimmy,” said Joe, “about whether we could give a show at all tonight.”
‚ÄúGive a show tonight!‚Äù cried Jimmy. ‚ÄúI should think we do give a show tonight, if I‚Äôve to give it all by myself. Tonight, one hundred and twenty-five members of the Mirley and District Cooperative Society‚ÅÝ‚Äîprevented, owing to un‚Äëfore‚Äëseen cir‚Äëcum‚Äëstances, from having their monthly whist-drive and dance are coming to Tewborough, and for what?‚ÅÝ‚Äîto see the Good Companions at the Theatre Royal, where they will occupy the dress circle on special terms given ‚Äôem by Mr.¬ÝNunn. Now let‚Äôs get busy and see if we can‚Äôt pack the house.‚Äù
“Let joy and what’s-its-name be unconfined,” roared Inigo, doing a little step-dance. “Now what do you say, Miss Trant?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Do the Good Companions go on?”
“They do,” she replied, smiling and flushing a little.
‚ÄúWe‚Äôll learn ‚Äôem yet,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, perspiring with enthusiasm. ‚ÄúWe will an‚Äô all. Tewborough ‚Äôull noan do us down. Tewborough‚Äôs nowt. It‚Äôs getten a right slap in the eye this morning.‚Äù
They played well that night, and a circle packed with members of the Mirley and District Cooperative Society was not slow to appreciate their efforts. (Even the Treasurer, a deacon at the Baptist Chapel who had misgivings about any form of entertainment that ventured further than a cantata, was heard to laugh several times.) “I don’t say it’s been a riot,” Susie observed, when the show was over, “but I’ll swear it’s the nearest Tewborough’s got to a riot since the Number Two Touring Company of A Royal Divorce first came here in the year Dot. And we pulled together, didn’t we, children?”
The children admitted that they had and returned to their various lodgings, which were all either so dismal or sinister that already a place had been found for them in the archives, with the cue‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚ÄúMy dear, did you ever play a hole called Tewborough?‚Äù well content, happy in the knowledge that the party was itself again and that tomorrow it would seek fresh streets and lodgings new. Thus ended the Black Week.