human
I've changed my plans,
gpt
I didn't know you had any,
human
I intended going back to London and taking you with me,
gpt
Back to London? he said incredulously.
human
I thought you were staying on for a month.
gpt
I probably shall now, she said, pulling up a basket-chair and sitting by his side.
human
Give me a cigarette.
gpt
You're smoking a lot lately,
human
I know I am.
gpt
Have your nerves gone wrong?
human
It wouldn't be remarkable if I inherited a little of your yellow streak, she said coolly, and he growled something under his breath.
gpt
No, my nerves are all right, but a cigarette helps me to think.
human
A yellow streak, have I? Mr. Briggerland was annoyed.
gpt
And I've been out since five o'clock this morning----
human
Doing--what?
gpt
Never mind,
human
Jean.
gpt
Yes,
human
Don't you think we'd better give this up and get back to London? Lord Stoker is pretty keen on you.
gpt
I'm not pretty keen on him, she said decidedly.
human
He has his regimental pay and £500 a year, two estates, mortgaged, no brains and a title--what is the use of his title to me? As much use as a coat of paint! Beside which, I am essentially democratic.
gpt
Do you think the lawyer is keen on the girl?
human
Jack Glover?
gpt
I imagine he is, said Jean thoughtfully.
human
I like Jack--he's clever. He has all the moral qualities which one admires so much in the abstract. I could love Jack myself.
gpt
Could he love you?
human
He couldn't, she said shortly.
gpt
Jack would be a happy man if he saw me stand in Jim Meredith's place in the Old Bailey. No, I have no illusion about Jack's affections.
human
He's after Lydia's money I suppose,
gpt
Don't be a fool, was the calm reply.
human
That kind of man doesn't worry about a girl's money. I wish Lydia was dead, she added without malice.
gpt
It would make things so easy and smooth.
human
You shock me sometimes, Jean,
gpt
You're such a half-and-half man, she said with a note of contempt in her voice.
human
You were quite willing to benefit by Jim Meredith's death; you killed him as cold-bloodedly as you killed poor little Bulford, and yet you must whine and snivel whenever your deeds are put into plain language. What does it matter if Lydia dies now or in fifty years time? she asked.
gpt
It would be different if she were immortal. You people attach so much importance to human life--the ancients, and the Japanese amongst the modern, are the only people who have the matter in true perspective. It is no more cruel to kill a human being than it is to cut the throat of a pig to provide you with bacon. There's hardly a dish at your table which doesn't represent wilful murder, and yet you never think of it, but because the man animal can talk and dresses himself or herself in queer animal and vegetable fabrics, and decorates the body with bits of metal and pieces of glittering quartz, you give its life a value which you deny to the cattle within your gates! Killing is a matter of expediency. Permissible if you call it war, terrible if you call it murder. To me it is just killing. If you are caught in the act of killing they kill you, and people say it is right to do so. The sacredness of human life is a slogan invented by cowards who fear death--as you do.
human
Don't you, Jean?
gpt
I fear life without money, she said quietly.
human
I fear long days of work for a callous, leering employer, and strap-hanging in a crowded tube on my way home to one miserable room and the cold mutton of yesterday. I fear getting up and making my own bed and washing my own handkerchiefs and blouses, and renovating last year's hats to make them look like this year's. I fear a poor husband and a procession of children, and doing the housework with an incompetent maid, or maybe without any at all. Those are the things I fear, Mr. Briggerland.
gpt
I haven't forgotten the life we lived at Ealing,