03 - Selected Short Stories - Deep Waters

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter three of The Man Upstairs story titled deep Waters.
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please
visit LibriVox dot org. Recording by Mike Harris, The Man
Upstairs by P. G. Woodhouse Deep Waters. Historians of the

(00:27):
social life of the late Roman Empire speak of a
certain young man of Ariminum who would jump into rivers
and swim in em. When his friends said, you fish,
he would answer, oh, pish, fish can't swim like me.
They've no viminim Just such. Another was George Barnard Calendar

(00:48):
on land in his land clothes. George was a young
man who excited little remark. He looked very much like
other young men. He was much about the ordinary height.
His carriage suggested the possession of an ordinary amount of
physical strength. Such was George on shore. But of course,
remove his clothes, drape him in a bathing suit, and

(01:10):
insert him in the water, And instantly, like the gentleman
in the tempest, he suffered a sea change into something
rich and strange. Other men puffed, snorted, and splashed. George
passed through the ocean with the silent dignity of a torpedo.
Other Men swallowed water here a mouthful, there a pint anon,

(01:30):
maybe a quarter or so, and return to the shore
like floundering derelicts. George's mouth had all the exclusiveness of
a fashionable club. His breast stroke was a thing to
see and wonder at. When he did, the crawled strong
men gasped when he swam on his back. He felt
that that was the only possible method of progression. George

(01:51):
came to Marvis Bay at about five o'clock one evening
in July. Marvis Bay has a well established reputation as
a summer resort, and, while not bread perhaps in every
respect the paradise which the excitable writer of the local
guide book asserts it to be, on the whole, it
earns its reputation. Its sands are smooth and firm, sloping
almost imperceptibly into the ocean. There is surf for those

(02:14):
who like it, and smoother water beyond for those whose
ideals in bathing are not confined to jumping up and
down on a given jellyfish. At the northern end of
the beach there is a long pier. It was to
this that George made his way on his arrival. It
was pleasant on the pier once you had passed the
initial zareba of fruit stands, souvenir stands, ice cream stands,

(02:37):
and the lair of the enthusiasts whose aim in life
it was to sell you picture post cards, and had
won through to the long walk where the seats were,
you were practically alone with nature. At this hour of
the day. The place was deserted. George had it to himself.
He strolled slowly along. The water glittered under the sun rays,

(02:57):
breaking into a flurry of white foam as it reached
the beach, a cool breeze blue. The whole scenic arrangements
were a great improvement on the stuffy city he had left.
Not that George had come to Mavis Bay with the
single aim of finding an antidote to metropolitan stuffiness. There
was a more important reason. In three days, Marves Bay

(03:17):
was to be the scene of the production of Fates Footballs,
a comedy in four acts by G. Barnet Callender. For George,
though he would not have suspected it from his exterior,
was one of those in whose cerebra the gray matter
splashes restlessly about producing strong curtains and crisp dialog. The

(03:38):
company was due at Marvis Bay on the following evening
for the last spasm of rehearsals. George's mind, as he
paced the pier, was divided between the beauties of nature
and the forthcoming crisis in his affairs, in the ratio
of one eighth to the former and seven eighths to
the latter. At the moment when he had left London
thoroughly disgusted with the entire theatrical world in general, and

(04:00):
the company which was rehearsing Fate's Footballs in particular, rehearsals
had just reached that stage of brisk delirium when the
author toys with his bottle of poison, and the stage
manner becomes icily polite. The foot pills, as Arthur Mifflin,
the leading juvenile in the Great Play, insisted upon calling it,
much to George's disapproval, was his first piece. Never before

(04:24):
had he been in one of those kitchens where many
cooks prepare and sometimes spoil the theatrical broth. Consequently, the
chaos seemed to him unique. Had he been a more
experienced dramatist, who would have said to himself twas ever,
thus as it was, what he said to himself and
others was more forcible. He was trying to dismiss the

(04:47):
whole thing from his mind, a feat which had hitherto
proved beyond his powers, when Fate, in an unusually kindly mood,
enabled him to do so in a flash, by presenting
to his jaundiced gaze what, unconsidering he decided was the
most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. When a man's afraid
shrewdly sings the bard, a beautiful maid is a cheering

(05:09):
sight to see. In the present instance, the sight acted
on George like a tonic. He forgot that the lady
to whom an injudicious management had assigned the role of
heroine in Fate's footballs, invariably no doubt from the best motives,
omitted to give the cynical Roue his cue for the
big speech in Act three. His mind no longer dwelt

(05:30):
on the fact that Arthur Mifflin, an estimable person in
private life and one who had been a friend of
Visit Cambridge, preferred to deliver the impassioned lines of the
great Renunciation scene in a manner suggesting a small boy
and a sufferer from nasal Gatar. At that speaking a
piece at a Sunday school treat the recollection of the

(05:50):
hideous oppression and gloom which the leading comedian had radiated
in great clouds, fled from him like some grisly nightmare
before the Goddess of day. Every cell in his brain
was occupied, to the exclusion of all other thoughts, by
the girl swimming in the water below. She swam well.
His practiced eye saw that her strong, easy strokes carried

(06:12):
her swiftly over the swell of the waves. He stared, transfixed.
He was a well brought up young man, and he
knew how ill bred it was to stare. But this
was a special occasion. Ordinary rules of conventional etiquette could
not apply to a case like this. He stared more.
He gaped. As the girl passed on into the shadow

(06:33):
of the pier, he leaned further over the rail, his
neck extended in joints, much like a telescope. At this point,
the girl turned to swim on her back. Her eyes
met his. Hers were deep and clear, his bulging for
what seemed an eternity to George. She continued to look
at him, then turning over again, she shot past under

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the pier. George's neck was now at its full stretch.
No power of will or muscle could add another yard
to it. Realizing this, he leaned farther over the rail,
and farther still. His hat slid from his hand. He
grabbed at it, and, overbalancing, fell with a splash into
the water. Now an ordinary circumstances, to fall twelve feet

(07:14):
into the ocean with all his clothes on would have
incommoded George a little. He would hardly have noticed it.
He would have swum ashore with merely a feeling of
amused self reproach, akin to that of the man who
absent mindedly walks into a lamp post in the street.
When therefore he came to the surface, he prepared, without agitation,
to strike out in his usual bold fashion. At this moment, however,

(07:36):
two hands grasping him beneath the arms lifted his head,
still farther from the waves, and a voice in his
ear said, keep still, don't struggle, there is no danger.
George did not struggle. His brain, working with the cool
rapidity of a buzz saw in an ice box, had
planned a line of action. Few things are more difficult

(07:57):
in this world for a young man than the securing
of an introduction to the right girl under just the right conditions.
When he is looking his best, he is presented to
her in the midst of a crowd and is swept
away after a rapid handshake. When there is no crowd,
he has toothache, or the sun has just begun to
make his nose peel. Thousands of young lives have been
saddened in this manner. How different was George's case. By

(08:21):
this simple accident he reflected as helping the good work.
Along with an occasional surreptitious leg stroke, he was towed shorewards.
There had been formed an acquaintanceship, if nothing more, which
could not lightly be broken. A girl who has saved
a man from drowning cannot pass him by next day
with a formal bow. And what a girl too. There'd

(08:43):
been a time in extreme youth when his feminine ideal
was the sort of girl who has fuzzy, golden hair
and drops things. Indeed, in his first year at the university,
he had said and written as much to one of
the type. The episode concluding with a strong little drama
in which a wrathful check exciting father had starred, supported
by a subdued, misogynistic son, which things, aided by the

(09:07):
march of time, had turned George's tastes toward the healthy,
open air girl who did things instead of dropping them.
The pleasantest functions must come to an end sooner or later, though,
and in due season. George felt his heels great on
the sand. His preserver loosed her hold. They stood up
and faced each other. George began to express his gratitude

(09:29):
as best he could. It was not easy to find
neat convincing sentences on the spur of the moment. But
she cut him short. Of course, it was nothing, nothing
at all, she said, brushing the sea water from her eyes.
It was just lucky I happened to be there. Oh,
it was splendid, said the infatuated dramatist. It was magnificent it.

(09:49):
He saw that she was smiling. You're very wet, she said.
George glanced down at his soaked clothes. It had been
a nice suit once, hadn't you better hurry back change
into something dry. Looking around about him, George perceived that
Sundry of the inquisitive was swooping down with speculation in

(10:09):
their eyes. It was time to depart. Have you far Togo?
Not far? I am staying at the Beach View Hotel.
Why so am I? I hope we shall meet again.
We shall, said George confidently. How did you happen to
fall in? I was I was looking at something in
the water. Oh I thought you were, said the girl quietly.

(10:30):
George blushed. I know, he said. It was abominably rude
of me to stare like that. But you should learn
to swim, interrupted the girl. I can't understand why every
boy in the country isn't made to learn to swim
before he is ten years old. And it isn't a
bit difficult. Really, I could teach you in a week.
The struggle between George and George's conscience was brief. The conscience,

(10:53):
weak by nature and flabby from long want of exercise,
had no sort of chance from the start. Oh I
wish you would, said George, and with those words he
realized that he had definitely committed himself to his hypocritical roll.
Till that moment, explanation would have been difficult, but possible.
Now it was impossible. I will, said the girl. I'll

(11:15):
start to morrow if you like. She waded into the water.
We'll talk it over at the hotel. She said hastily,
here comes a crowd of horrid people. I'm going to
swim out again. She hurried into deep water, while George
turning made his way through a growing throng of goggling spectators.
Of the fifteen who got within speaking distance of him,
six told him that he was wet. The other nine

(11:37):
asked him if he had fallen. Her name was Vaughan,
and she was visiting Marvis Bay in company with an aunt.
So much George ascertained from the management of the hotel. Later,
after dinner, meeting both ladies on the esplanade, he gleaned
further information to wit that her first name was Mary,
that her aunt was glad to make his acquaintance, liked

(11:58):
Marvis Bay, but preferred Throuville, and thought it was getting
a little chilly, and would go indoors. The elimination of
the third factor had a restorative effect upon George's conversation,
which had begun to languish. In feminine society. As a rule,
he was apt to be constrained, but with Mary Vaughan
it was different. Within a couple of minutes, he was

(12:19):
pouring out his troubles, the cue withholding leading lady, the
stick like Mifflin, the funereal comedian. Up, they all came,
and she, gently sympathetic, was endeavoring, not without success, to
prove to him that things were not as bad as
they seemed. It's sure to be all right on the night,
she said, How rare is the combination of beauty and intelligence.

(12:43):
George thought he had never heard such a clear headed,
well expressed remark. Well, I suppose it will, he said,
But they were very bad when I left Miflin, for instance,
he seemed to think nature intended him for a napoleon
of advertising. He has a bee in his bonnet about booming.
The piece. Sits up at nights when he ought to
be sleeping or studying the part, thinking out new schemes

(13:04):
for advertising the show and the comedian. His specialty is
drawing me aside and asking me to write in new
scenes for him. I couldn't stand it any longer. I
just came away and left them to fight it out
among themselves. I'm sure you have no need to worry,
she said. A play with such a good story is
certain to succeed. George had previously obliged with a brief

(13:26):
description of the plot of the foot Pills. Did you
like the story? He said tenderly, Oh, I thought it
was fine. How sympathetic you are, Coop, George glutinously edging
a little closer. Do you know? Shall we be going
back to the hotel? Said the girl. Those noisome creatures,
the hired murderers of Fate's Footpills, descended upon Marvis Bay

(13:50):
early next afternoon, and George, meeting them at the station,
in reluctant pursuance of a promise given to Arthur Mifflin,
felt moodily that if only they could make their acting
one half as full of color as their clothes, the
play would be one of the most pronounced successes of
modern times. In the forefront gleamed like the white plumes
of Navarre, the light flannel suit of Arthur Mifflin, the

(14:13):
woodenest juvenile in captivity. His woodenness was, however, confined to
stage rehearsals. It may be mentioned that once the run
of a piece had begun, he was sufficiently volatile, and
in private life he was almost excessively so, a fact
which had been noted at an early date by the
keen eyed authorities of his university discovery, leading to his

(14:35):
tearing himself away from Alma Mater by request with some suddenness.
He was a long, slender youth with green eyes, jet
black hair, and a passionate fondness for the sound of
his own voice. Well, here we are, he said, kicking
breezely at George's leg with his cane. Yes, I saw you,
said George, coldly, sidestepping the whole team, continued mister Miflin,

(14:59):
A bright body and train to the minute. What happened
after I left? George asked? Has anybody begun to act yet?
Or are they waiting till the dress rehearsal? Oh? The rehearsals,
admitted mister Miflin, handsomely, weren't perfect. But you wait, it'll
be all right on the night. George thought he had
never heard such a futile, vapid remark. Besides, said mister Miflin,

(15:23):
I have an idea which will make the show. Lend
me your ear, both ears, who shall have them back?
Tell me what pulls people into a theater? A good play,
well sometimes, but failing that is in the present case,
what fine acting by the leading juvenal. Ah, we have that,
but it's not enough. No, my boy, advertising is the thing.

(15:43):
Look at all these men on the beach. Are they
going to roll in of their own free wheels to
see a play like the foot Pills not on your life?
About the time the curtain rises, every man of them
will be sitting in his own private corner of the beach.
How many corners do you think the beach has, gazing
into a girl's eyes, singing shine on thou harvest mood,

(16:05):
and telling her how his boss is practically dependent on
his advice. You know, I don't, said George coldly, unless proceeded.
Mister Miflin. We advertise, and by advertise I mean advertise
in no right way. We have a press agent. But
for all the good he does, he might be back
on the old farm, gathering in the hay. Lucky for us,

(16:28):
I am among those present. I have brains. I have Reese.
What's that? I said? Nothing? Oh, I thought you did well.
I have an idea which will drag these people like
a magnet. I have thought it out coming down in
the train. Ah, what is it? I'll tell you later.
There are a few details to be worked upon first. Meanwhile,
let us trickle to the sea front and take a

(16:50):
sail in one of those boats. I am at my
best in a boat. I rather fancy nature intended me
for a Viking matters. Having been arranged with the financier
to whom the boat belonged, they set forth. Mister Mifflin,
having remarked you o in a meditative voice, seated himself
at the helm, somewhat saddened by his failure to borrow
a quid of tobacco from the ocean beauty's proprietor. For

(17:13):
as he justly observed, without properties and make up, where
were you? George, being skilled in the way of boats,
was in charge of the sheet. The summer day had
lost its oppressive heat, the sun no longer beat down
on the face of the waters. A fresh breeze had
sprung up. George, manipulating the sheet, automatically fell into a reverie.
A moment comes in the life of every man when

(17:35):
an inward voice whispers to him. This is though one.
In George's case, the voice had not whispered, It had shouted.
From now onward, there could be but one woman in
the world for him. From now onward, the ocean beauty
gave a sudden plunge. George woke up. What the deuce
are you doing with that tiller? He inquired, My gentle somnambulist,

(17:59):
said mister Miffline, I was doing nothing with this tiller.
We will now form a commission to inquire into what
you were doing with that sheet. Were you asleep? My fault,
said George. I was thinking, Well, if you must break
the habit of a lifetime, said mister Miflin, complainingly, I
wish you would wait till we get ashore. You nearly
upset us. What sha't happen again? They're tricky. These sailing

(18:21):
boats turn over a second. Whatever you do, don't get
a broadside on. There's more breeze out here than I
thought there was. Mister Miflin uttered a startled exclamation. What's
the matter, asked George. Just like a flash, said mister Mifflin, complacently.
It's always the way with me. Give me time, and
the artistic idea is bound to come. Trust some little thought,

(18:42):
some little apparently obvious idea, which stamps the man of genius.
It beats me why I didn't think of it before? Why,
of course, a costume piece with a male star is
a hundred times more effected. What are you talking about?
I see now, continued mister Miflin, that there was a
floor in my original plan. My there was this. We

(19:03):
were talking in the train about the bathing down here,
and Jane happened to say she could swim some And
it suddenly came to me Jane was the leading woman,
she who omitted to give cues. I said to myself,
George is a sportsman. He'll be delighted to do a
little thing like that, like to do what? Why rescue Jane? What?

(19:25):
She and you said, mister Mifflin, we'll go in swimming together.
When I waited on the sands holding our bone headed
press agent on a leash, about a hundred yards from
the shore, up go her arms piercing scream agitated crowds
on the beach. What is the matter? What was happening?
A touch of cramp? Will she be drowned? No? G
Burnet Calender, author of Fate's Footballs, which opens at the

(19:49):
Beach Theater on Monday evening next at eight fifteen sharp.
We'll save her. See he has a He is bringing
her in. She is safe. How pleased her mother will
be and the public. What a bit of luck for them.
They'll be able to see her act at eight fifteen
sharp on Monday. After all, back you come to the shore, cheering, crowds, weeping.
Women's strong situation. I unleash the press agent and off

(20:13):
he shoots, in time to get the story into the
evening paper. It was a great idea, but I see
now there were one or two floors in it. You
do do? You? Said, George. It occurs to me on
reflection that after roll you wouldn't have agreed to it.
A something I don't know what, which is lacking in
your nature, would have made you reject the scheme. I'm
certainly glad that occurred to Hugh. And a far greater

(20:36):
flaw was that it was too altruistic. It boomed you,
and it boomed Jane, but I didn't get a thing
out of it. My revised scheme is a thousand times
better in every way. Don't say you have another. Oh
I have, and added mister Mifflin with modest pride. It
is a winner. This time, I unhesitatingly assert that I
have the goods, and about one minute from now you

(20:58):
will hear me exclaim in a clear musical voice, the
single word jump. That is your cue to leap over
the side as quick as you can move, for at
that precise moment, the spanking craft is going to capsize.
George spun round in his sheet. Mister Mifflin's face was
shining with kindly enthusiasm. The shore was at least two
hundred yards away, and that morning he had had his

(21:19):
first swimming lesson by a movement of the tiller. Will
do it. These accidents are common objects of the sea shore.
I mentioned that I can swim just enough to keep
myself afloat, so it's up to you, dear boy. I
wouldn't do this for Eryanda, seeing that we were boys together.
Are you ready? Stop, said George. Don't do it. Listen?

(21:41):
Are you ready? The ocean beauty gave a plunge, you
lunatic a listen to me, jump, said mister Mifflin. George
came to the surface some yards in the overturned boat,
and looking round for mister Miflin, discovered that great thinker
treading water a few feet away. Get to work, George,
he remarked. It's not easy to shake one's fist at

(22:02):
a man when in deep water, but George managed it
for topense. He cried, I'd leave you to look after yourself.
Oh you can do better than that, said mister Miflin.
I'll give you throppence to tow me in. Hurry up,
it's cold. In gloomy silence, George gripped him by the elbows.
Mister Miflin looked over his shoulder. Oh we shall have
a good house, he said. The stalls are full already

(22:24):
in the dress circles filling work Away, George, you're doing fine.
This act is going to be a scream from start
to finish. With pleasant conversation, he endeavored to while away
the monotony of the journey. But George made no reply.
He was doing some rapid thinking with ordinary luck, he
felt bitterly. All would have been well. He could have
gone on splashing vigorously under his teacher's care for a week,

(22:47):
gradually improving till he emerged into a reasonably proficient swimmer.
But now, in an age of miracles, he might have
explained away his present performance. But how was he to?
And and then there came to him an idea, simple
as all great ideas are, but magnificent. He stopped and
trod water tired, said mister Miflin. Well take a rest,

(23:10):
he added, kindly take arrest. No need to hurry. Look here,
said George. This piece is going to be recast. We're
going to exchange parts. You're rescuing me. Say never mind
why I haven't time to explain it to you. Now,
do you understand? No, said mister Miflin. I'll get behind
you and push you, but don't forget when we get

(23:31):
to the shore that you've done the rescuing. Mister Miflin pondered,
Is this wise? He said, It is a strong part,
the rescue of it. I'm not sure the other wouldn't
suit my style better. The silent hand gripped the catch
in the voice. You want a practiced actor for that.
I don't think you'd be up to it, George, Never
mind about me. That's how it's going to be, mister

(23:53):
Mifflin pondered once more. No, he said at length, It
wouldn't do You mean well, George, but it would kill show.
We'll go on as before, will we, said George unpleasantly.
Would you like to know what I'm going to do
to you? Then? I'm going to hit you very hard?
Under the jaw, and I am going to take hold
of your neck and squeeze it till you lose consciousness.

(24:15):
And then I am going to drag you to the
beach and tell people I had to hit you because
you lost your head and struggled. Mister Miflin pondered, for
the third time, you are he said, I am, Then
said mister Mifflin, cordially, say no more. I take your point.
My objections are removed. But but he concluded, this is

(24:36):
the last time I come bathing with you, George. Mister
Miflin's artistic misgivings as to his colleagues's ability to handle
so subtle a part as that of a rescue we
were more than justified. On their arrival. A large and
interested audience had collected by the time they reached the shore,
an audience to which any artist should have been glad
to play. But George, forcing his way through, hurried to

(24:57):
the hotel without attempting to satisfy them. Not a single
silent handshake did he bestow on his rescuer. There was
no catch in his voice as he made the one
remark which he did make to a man with whiskers
who asked him if the boat had upset as an
exhibition of rapid footwork. His performance was good. In other
respects it was poor. He had just changed his wet clothes.

(25:19):
It seemed to him that he had been doing nothing
but changing his wet clothes since he had come to
Marvis Bay. When mister Mifflin entered in a bath robe.
They lent me this downstairs, he explained, while they'd dried
my clothes. They would do anything for me. I am
the popular hero. My boy, you made the mistake of
your life when you threw up the rescuer part. It

(25:39):
has all the fat I see that now the rescuer
plays the other man off the stage every time. I've
just been interviewed by the fellow on the local newspaper,
his correspondent to a couple of London papers. The country
will ring with this thing. I've told them all the
parts I've ever played in my favorite breakfast food as
a man coming up to take I photographed tomorrow footpills

(26:02):
stock has gone up with a run. Wait till Monday,
and see what sort of house we shall draw. By
the way, the reporter fellow said, one funny thing. He asked,
if you weren't the same man who was rescued yesterday
by a girl. I said, of course, not that you
had only come down yesterday. But he stuck to it
that you were. He was quite right what I was.

(26:23):
Mister Mifflin sat down on the bed. This fellow fell
off the pier and a girl brought him in. George nodded,
and that was you. George nodded. Mister Miflin's eyes opened wide.
It's the heat, he declared finally that in the worry
of rehearsals, I expect a doctor could give the technical
name for it. It's a what do you call it?

(26:44):
An obsession? You often hear of cases fellows who are
absolutely sane, really, but cracked on one particular subject. Some
of them think they're teapots and things. You've got a
craving for being rescued from drowning. What happens, old mouth.
You'll suddenly get the delusion that you can't swim. No,
it can't be that, because you were doing all the
swimming for the two of us just now. I don't know, though,

(27:07):
maybe you didn't realize that you were swimming. George finished
lacing his shoe and looked up listen, he said, I'll
talk slow so that you can understand. Suppose you fell
off a peer and a girl took a great deal
of trouble to get you to the shore. Would you say,
much obliged. But you needn't have been so officious. I
can swim perfectly well. Mister Miflin considered this point, intelligence

(27:31):
began to dawn in his face. Ah, there is more
in this than meets the eye, he said, tell me
all this morning. George's voice grew dreamy. She gave me
a swimming lesson. She thought it was my first. Don't
cackle like that. There's nothing to laugh at. Oh, mister
Mifflin contradicted this assertion. Oh there is you, he said, simply,

(27:53):
this should be a lesson to you. George, avoid deceit
in future, Be simple and straightforward. Take me as your model.
You have met managed to scrape through this time. Don't
risk it again. You are young. There is still time
to make a fresh stock. It only needs will power that. Meanwhile,
lend me something to wear. They're going to take a
week drying my clothes. There was a rehearsal at the

(28:14):
Beach Theater that evening. George attended. It in a spirit
of resignation, and left it in one of elation. Three
days had passed since his last sight of the company
at work, and in those three days, apparently the impossible
had been achieved. There was a snap and go about
the piece. Now the leading lady had at length mastered
that cue and gave it out with bell like clearness.

(28:37):
Arthur Mifflin, as if refreshed and braced by a salt
water bath, was infusing a welcome vigor into his part,
and even the comedian George could not help admitting, showed
signs of being on the eve of becoming funny. It
was with a light heart and a light step that
he made his way back to the hotel in the Verandah,
where a number of basket chairs. Only one was occupied,

(28:59):
and he recognized as the occupant. I've just come back
from a rehearsal, he said, seating himself beside her. Really,
the whole thing is different, he went on buoyantly. They
know their lines, they act as if they meant it.
Arthur Mifflin's fine. The comedians improved till you wouldn't know him.
I'm awfully pleased about it. Really, George felt damped. I

(29:20):
thought you might be pleased too, he said, lamely. Of course,
I'm glad that things are doing well. Your accident this
afternoon was lucky too, in a way, was it not?
It will interest people in the play you heard about it.
I've been hearing about nothing else. Curious it happened so
soon after, and so soon before the production of your play.

(29:40):
Most curious. There was a silence. George began to feel uneasy.
You could never tell with women. Of course, it might
be nothing, but it looked uncommonly as if he changed
the subject. And how is your aunt this evening, Miss Vaughan?
Quite well? Thank you? She went in. She found it
a little chilly. George hardly commended her good sense. A

(30:01):
little chilly did not begin to express it. If the
girl had been like this all the evening, he wanted
her hand had not caught pneumonia, He tried again. Will
you have time to give me another lesson to morrow?
He said? She turned on him, mister callender, don't you
think this farce has gone on long enough? Once in
the dear dead days beyond recall when but a happy

(30:23):
child George had been smitten unexpectedly by a sportive playmate
a bare half inch below his third waistcoat button. The
resulting emotions were still green in his memory, as he
had felt then, so did he feel now, Miss Thawn.
I don't understand, really, what have I done? You have

(30:45):
forgotten how to swim? A warm and prickly sensation began
to manifest itself in the region of George's forehead. Forgotten, forgotten,
And in a few months I thought I had seen
you before, and to day I remembered it was just
about this time last year that I saw you at
Haley Island swimming perfectly, wonderfully, And to day you are

(31:06):
taking lessons. Can you explain it? A frog like croak
was the best George could do. In that line, she
went on, business is business, I suppose, and a play
has to be advertised somehow. But you don't think croak, George.
I should have thought it rather beneath the dignity of
an author. But of course you know your own business best.

(31:28):
Only I object to being a conspirator. I'm sorry for
your sake that yesterday's episode attracted so little attention. To
day it was much more satisfactory, wasn't it. I am
so glad there was a massive silence for about a
hundred years. I think I'll go for a short stroll,
George said, scarcely had he disappeared when the long form

(31:49):
of mister Miflin emerged from the shadow beyond the verandah,
could you spare me a moment? The girl looked up.
The man was a stranger. She inclined her head coldly.
My name is Mifflin, said the other, dropping comfortably into
the chair which had held the remains of George. The
girl inclined her head again, more coldly. But it took
more than that to embarrass mister Mifflin. A dynamite might

(32:11):
have done it, but not coldness the Mifflin, he explained,
crossing his legs. I overheard your conversation just now you
were listening, said the girl, scornfully. For all I was worth,
said mister Miflin, These things are very much a matter
of habit. For years, I've been playing in pieces where
I've had to stand concealed up stage, drinking in the

(32:32):
private conversation of other people, and the thing has become
a second nature to me. However, leaving that point for
a moment, what I wished to say is that I
heard you unknowingly, of course, doing a good man a
grave injustice. Mister Callender could have defended himself if he
had wished. I was not referring to George. The injustice
was to myself. To you, I was the sole author

(32:56):
of this afternoon's little drama. I liked George, but I
cannot permit him to pose in any way as my collaborator.
George has old fashioned ideas. He does not keep opreast
of the time. He can write players, but he needs
a man with a big brain to boom them for him.
So far from being entitled to any credit for this
afternoon's work, he was actually opposed to it. Then why

(33:20):
did he pretend you had saved him? She demanded George's said,
mister Mifflin is essentially a chivalrous nature at any crisis,
demanding a display of the finer feelings. He is there
with the goods before you can turn round. His friends
frequently wrangle warmly as to whither he is most like
Bayard Lancelot or happy Hooligan. Some say one, some the other.

(33:44):
It seemed that yesterday saved him from a watery grave,
without giving him time to explain that he could save himself.
But what could he do? He said to himself, Well
she must never know, and acted accordingly. Ah, but let
us leave George and return. Thank you, mister Mifflin. There
was a break in her laugh. I don't think there

(34:05):
is any necessity. I think I understand now. It was
very clever of you. Oh it was more than cleverness,
said mister Mifflin, rising it was genius. A white form
came to meet George as he re entered the verandah,
mister Callender, he stopped. I'm very sorry I said such
harried things to you. Just now. I've been talking to

(34:25):
mister Mifflin, and I want to say I think it
was ever so nice and thoughtful of you. I understand everything.
George did not buy a good deal, but he understood
sufficient for his needs. He shot forward as if some
strong hand were behind him with a needle. But Miss Vaughan, Mary,
I I think I hear aunt calling, said she. But

(34:46):
a benevolent providence has ordained that aunts cannot call for ever.
And it is on record that when George entered his
box on the two hundredth night of that great London
success Fates Footballs, he did not enter it alone, end
of story number three, deep Waters recording by Mike Harris