08 - Selected Short Stories - Ruth in Exile

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter eight of The Man Upstairs. 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,
Story number eight. Ruth in exile, the clock struck five briskly,

(00:26):
as if time were money. Ruth Warden got up from
a desk, and, having put on her hat, emerged into
the outer office where Monsieur Gendinox received visitors. Monsieur Gendino,
the ugliest man in Roville sur Mayer, presided over the
local Mont de Piete, and Ruth served him from ten
to five as a sort of secretary clerk. Her duties,

(00:48):
if monotonous, were simple. They consisted of sitting detached and
invisible behind a ground glass screen and entering details of
loans in a fat book. She was kept busy as
a rule, for Rouville possesses two casinos, each offering the
attraction of Petite Cheveau, and just around the corner is
Monte Carlo. Very brisk was the business done by Monsieur Candino,

(01:13):
the pawnbroker and very frequent weather pitying shakes of the
head and clicks of the tongue of Monsieur Gandino, the man,
for in his unofficial capacity or loose employer, had a
gentle soul and winced at the evidences of tragedy which
presented themselves before his official eyes. He blinked up at
Ruth as she appeared, and Ruth, as she looked at him,

(01:34):
was conscious, as usual, of a lightning of the depression,
which nowadays seemed to have settled permanently upon her. The
peculiar quality of Monsieur Gandino's extraordinary countenance was that it
induced mirth, not mocking laughter, but a kind of smiling happiness.
It possessed that indefinable quality which characterizes the Billiquan, due

(01:56):
perhaps to the unquenchable optimism which shone through the irregular features.
For Monsieur Gandino, despite his calling, believed in this fellow man,
you are going, mademoiselle. As Ruth was wearing a hat
and making for the door, and as she always left
at this hour, a purist might have considered the question superfluous.

(02:16):
But Monsieur Gandanoux was a man who seized every opportunity
of practicing his English. You will not wait for zigoud Papa,
who called so eager lily for you. I think I
won't to day, Monsieur Gandino. I want to get out
into the air. I have rather a headache. Will you
tell my father that I have gone to the promenade,

(02:38):
Monsieur Gandino sighed as the door closed behind her. Ruth's
depression had not escaped his notice. He was sorry for her,
and not without cause, For fate had not dealt too
kindly with Ruth. It would have amazed mister Eugene Warden,
that genial, old gentleman, if on one of those occasions
of manly emotion, when he was in the habit of
observing that he had been nobody's enemy, but his known

(03:00):
somebody had hinted that he had spoiled his daughter's life.
Such a thought had never entered his head. He was
one of those delightful, irresponsible, erratic persons into whose heads
the thoughts of this kind do not enter, and who
are about as deadly to those whose lives are bound
up with theirs as an oppus tree in the memory
of his oldest acquaintance. Ruth's father had never done anything

(03:24):
but drift amiably through life. There had been a time
when he had done his drifting in London, feeding cheerfully
from the hand of a long suffering brother in law.
But though blood, as he was wont to remark while
negotiating his periodical loans, is thicker than water, a brother
in law's affection has its limits. A day came when
mister Warden observed with pain that his relative responded less

(03:47):
nimbly to the touch, and a little while later the
other delivered his ultimatum. Mister Warden was to leave England
and to stay away from England, to behave as if
England no longer existed on the map, and a small
but sufficient allowance would be made to him. If he
declined to do this, not another penny of the Speaker's
money would he received. He could choose, and he chose.

(04:10):
He left England, Ruth with him. They settled in Reuville,
that haven of the exile who lives upon remittances. Ruth's
connection with the Monte Piete had come about, almost automatically.
Very soon after their arrival. It became evident that to
a man of mister Warden's nature, resident of Stone's Throw
distant from two casinos, the small allowance was not likely

(04:33):
to go very far. Even if Ruth had not wished
to work, circumstances would have compelled her. As it was,
she longed for something to occupy her, and the vacancy
at the Monte Piete occurring she had snatched at it.
There was a certain fitness in her working there. Business
transactions with that useful institution had always been conducted by her,

(04:55):
it being mister Warden's theory that woman can extract in
these crises just that extra franc or two which is
denied to the mere male. Through constantly going round, running across,
stepping over, and popping down to the Monte de Piete,
she had established almost a legal claim on any post
that might be vacant there, and under Monsieur Guerino's banner

(05:16):
she had served ever since. Five minutes walk took her
to the Promenade des Anglais, that apparently endless thoroughfare which
is Roville's pride. The evening was fine and warm, the
sun shone gaily on the white walled houses, the bright gardens,
and the two gleaming casinos. But Ruth walked listlessly, blind

(05:36):
to the glitter of it all. Visitors who go to
Roville for a few weeks in the winter are apt
to speak of the place on their return in a
manner that conveys the impression that it's a paradise on earth,
with gambling facilities thrown in. But then they are visited,
their sojourn comes to an end. Ruth's did not a

(05:57):
voice spoke to her name. She turned and saw her father,
dapper as ever, standing beside her. What an evening, my dear,
said mister Warden, What an evening's smell of the sea.
Mister Warden appeared to be in high spirits. He hummed
a tune and twirled his cane. He chirped frequently to Bill,
the companion of his walks abroad, a wiry fox terrier

(06:19):
of a demeanor like his master's, both jaunty and slightly disreputable.
An air of gaiety pervaded his bearing. I called in
at the Monte Piete, but you had gone. Gandino told
me you'd come here. What an ugly fellow that Gandino is,
but a good sort I like him. I had a
chat with him. The high spirits were explained. Ruth knew

(06:42):
her father. She guessed correctly that Monsieur Gendino, kindest of pawnbrokers,
had obliged in his unofficial capacity, with a trifling loan.
Gendino ought to go on the stage went on mister Warden,
pursuing his name. With that face, he'd make his fortune.
You can't help lacking when you see it. And one
of these days but he broke off. Stirring things had

(07:05):
begun to occur in the neighborhood of his ankles, where
Bill the fox terrier had encountered an acquaintance, and, to
the accompaniment of a loud, gargling noise, was endeavoring to
bite his head off this acquaintance. A gentleman of uncertain breed,
equally willing, was chewing Bill's paw with the gusto of
a gourmet. An Irish terrier, with no personal bias towards

(07:26):
either side, was dancing round and attacking each in turn
as he came uppermost, and two poodles leaped madly in
and out of the melee, barking encouragement. It takes a
better man than mister Warden to break up a gathering
of this kind. The old gentleman was bewildered, He added
his voice to the babel, and twice smote Bill grievously
with his cane, with blows intended for the acquaintance, but

(07:49):
beyond that he effected nothing. It seemed probable that the
engagement would last till the combatants had consumed each other
after the fashion of the Kilkenny cats, when there suddenly
appeared from nowhere a young man in gray. The world
is divided into those who can stop dog fights and
those who cannot. The young man in gray belonged to

(08:10):
the former class. Within a minute from his entrance on
the scene, the poodles in the Irish terrier had vanished,
the dog of doubtful breed was moving off up the hill,
yelping with the despatch of one who remembers an important appointment,
and Bill, miraculously calmed, was seated in the center of
the promenade, licking honorable wounds. Mister Warden was disposed to

(08:32):
ever vess with gratitude. The scene had shaken him, and
there had been moments when he had given his ankles
up for lost. There don't mention it to the young man.
I enjoy arbitrating in these little disputes. Dog seemed to
like me and trust my judgment. I consider myself as
a sort of honorary dog. Well, I'm bound to say,
mister mister Vince, George Vince, my name is Warden. My

(08:57):
daughter Ruth inclined her head and was conscious of a
pair of very penetrating brown eyes looking eagerly into hers,
in a manner which she thoroughly resented. She was not
used to the other sex meeting her gaze and holding
it as if confident of a friendly welcome. She made
up her mind in that instant that this was a
young man who required suppression. I've seen you several times

(09:20):
out here since I arrived, miss Warden, said mister Vince.
For in all, he added, precisely, really, said Ruth. She
looked away. Her attitude seemed to suggest that she had
finished with him and would be obliged if somebody would
come and sweep him up. As they approached the casino,
restlessness crept into mister Warden's manner. At the door, he

(09:41):
stopped and looked at Ruthe up. I think, my dear,
he said, going to have a dash at the Petit Chevaux,
inquired mister Vince, I was there just now I have
an infallible system. Mister Warden started like a war horse
at the sound of the trumpet. Only it's infallible in
the wrong way, went on the young man. Well, I
wish you luck. I'll see miss Warden home. Oh please,

(10:04):
don't trouble, said Ruth, in the haughty manner which had
frequently witted unfortunate fellow exiles in their tracks. It had
no such effect on mister Vince. Oh I shall like it,
he said. Ruth set her teeth. She would see whither
he would like it. They left mister Warden, who shot
in at the casino door like a homing rabbit, and
walked on in silence, which lasted till Ruth, suddenly becoming

(10:27):
aware that her companion's eye were fixed on her face,
turned her head to meet a gaze of complete, not
to say loving, admiration. She flushed. She was accustomed to
being looked at admiringly, but about this particular look there
was a subtle quality that distinguished it from the ordinary,
something proprietorial. Mister Vince appeared to be young man who

(10:49):
wasted no time on conventional conversation openings. Do you believe
in affinities? Miss Warden, He said, no, said ruthe. You
will before we're done, said missus de vince confidently. Why
did you try to snub me just now? Oh? Did I? Oh?
You mustn't again. It hurts me. I'm a sensitive man, diffident, shy,

(11:10):
miss Warden. Will you marry me? Ruth had determined that
nothing should shake her from her icy detachment, but this did.
She stopped with a gasp and stared at him. Mister
vince reassured her, Oh, I don't expect you to say yes.
That was just a beginning, sort of the shot fired
across the bow by way of warning. In you, Miss Warden,
I have found my affinity. Have you ever considered this

(11:32):
matter of affinities? Affinities are the er the the wait
a moment, he paused, reflecting, I began ruthe sh said
the young man, holding up his hand. Ruth's eyes flashed.
She was not used to having sh said to her
by young men, and she resented it. Oh I've got it,

(11:52):
he declared, with relief. I knew I should, but these
good things take time. Affinities are the zero on the
roulette board of life, just as we select a number
on which to stake our money. So do we select
a type of girl whom we think we should like
to marry, And just as zero pops up instead of
the number, so does our affinity come along and upset
all our preconceived notions of the type of girl we

(12:15):
should like to marry? I began Ruth again, the analogy
is in the rough at present. I haven't had time
to condense and polish it, but you see the idea.
Take my case, for instance, when I saw you a
couple of days ago, I knew in an instant that
you were my affinity. But for years I had been
looking for a woman almost your exact opposite. You were
dark three days ago. I couldn't have imagined myself marrying

(12:38):
anyone who was not fair. Your eyes are gray. Three
days ago. My preference for blue eyes was a by word.
You have a shocking temper. Three days ago, mister Vince
there said that philosopher complacently you stamped. The gentle, blue
eyed blonde whom I was looking for three days ago
would have drooped timidly three days ag My passion for

(13:01):
timid droopers amounted to an obsession. Ruth did not reply.
It was useless to bandy words with one who gave
such clear evidence of being something out of the common
run of word bandiers. No verbal attack could crush this
extraordinary young man. She walked on all silence and stony profile,
uncomfortably conscious that her companion was in no way abashed

(13:23):
by the former, and was regarding the latter with that
frank admiration which made itself so obnoxious to her before.
Until they reached their destination, mister Vince meanwhile chatted cheerfully
and pointed out objects of interest by the wayside. At
the door, Ruth permitted herself a word of farewell. Good bye,

(13:43):
she said, till to morrow evening, said mister Vince, I
shall be coming to dinner. Mister Warden ambled home very
happy and contented two hours later with half a franc
in his pocket, this comparative wealth being due to the
fact that the minimum stake permitted by the revealed casino
is just double that sum. He was sorry not to

(14:04):
have won, but his mind was too full of rosy
dreams to permit her remorse. It was the estimable old
gentleman's dearest wish that his daughter should marry some rich,
open handed man who would keep him in affluence for
the remainder of his days, and to that end he
was in the habit of introducing to her and notice
any such that came his way. There was no question
of coercing Ruth. He was too tender hearted for that. Besides,

(14:27):
he couldn't. Ruth was not the sort of girl who
has readily coerced. He contented himself with giving her the
opportunity to inspect his exhibits. Roville is a sociable place,
and it was not unusual for him to make friends
at the casino and to bring them home when made
for a cigar. Up to the present, he was bound
to admit his efforts had not been particularly successful. Ruth,

(14:50):
he reflected, sadly, was a curious girl. She did not
show her best side to these visitors. There was no
encouragement in her manner. She was apt to frighten the
unfortunate it exhibits. But of this young man, Vince had
brighter hopes. He was rich. That was proved by the
very handsome way in which he had behaved in the
manner of a small loan went looking in at the casino.

(15:10):
After parting from Ruth. He had found mister Warden in
sore straits for want of a little capital to back
a brand new system which he had conceived through closely
observing the run of the play. He was also obviously
attracted by Ruth, and as he was remarkably presentable, indeed
quite an unusually good looking young man, there seemed no
reason why Ruth should not be equally attracted by him.

(15:34):
The word looked good to mister Warden as he fell
asleep that night. Ruth, on the other hand, did not
fall asleep so easily. The episode had disturbed her. A
new element had entered her life, and one that gave
promise of producing strange by products. When on the following evening,
Ruth returned from the stroll on the promenade which she
always took after leaving the Monte Piete, with a feeling

(15:56):
of irritation towards things in general. This feeling was not
diminished by the sight of mister Vince, very much at
his ease, standing against the mantelpiece of the tiny parlor.
How do you do, he said, By an extraordinary coincidence,
I happen to be hanging about outside this house just
now when your father came along and invited me in
to dinner. Have you ever thought much about coincidences, miss Warden?

(16:19):
To my mind, they may be described as the zero
on the roulette board of life. He regarded her fondly.
For a shy man, conscious that the girl he loves
is inspecting him closely and making up her mind about him,
he proceeded, These unexpected meetings are very trying ordeals. You
must not form your judgment of me too hastily. You
see me now nervous, embarrassed, tongue tied. But I'm not

(16:42):
always like this. Beneath this crust of diffidence, there is
sterling stuff, miss Warden. People who know me have spoken
of me as a little ray of sun up ah.
But here is your father. Mister Warden was more than
usually disappointed with Ruth during dinner. It was the same
old story. So far from making herself pleasant to this
attractive stranger, she seemed positively to dislike him. She was

(17:05):
barely civil to him. With a sigh, mister Warden told
himself that he did not understand Ruth, and the rosy
dreams he had formed began to fade. Ruth's ideas on
the subject of mister Vince as the days went by
were chaotic. Though she told herself that she thoroughly objected
to him, he had nevertheless begun to have an undeniable
attraction for him. In what this attraction consisted of, she

(17:28):
could not say. When she tried to analyze it, she
came to the conclusion that it was due to the
fact that he was the only element in her life
that made for excitement. Since his advent, the days had
certainly passed more swiftly for him. The dead level of
monotony had been broken. There was a certain fascination in
exerting herself to suppress him, which increased daily as each

(17:49):
attempt failed. Mister Vince put his feelings into words. For him,
he had a maddening habit of discussing the progress of
his courtship in the manner of an impartial lecturer making headway.
He observed the fact that we cannot meet without your
endeavoring to plant a temperamental left jab on my spiritual
solar plexes encourages me to think that you are beginning

(18:10):
at last to understand that we are affinities to persons
of spirit like ourselves. The only happy marriage is that
which is based on a firm foundation of almost incessant quarreling.
The most beautiful line in English poetry, to my mind
is we fell out my wife and I. You'd be
wretched without a husband who didn't like you to quarrel
with him. The position of affairs now is that I

(18:32):
have become necessary to you. If I went out of
your life now, I should leave an aching void. You
would still have that beautiful punch of yours, and there
would be nobody to exercise it on. You would pine
away from now on matters. Should I think move rapidly
during the course of the next week, I shall endeavor
to propitiate you with gifts. Here is the first of them.

(18:54):
He took a piece of paper from his pocket and
handed it to her. It was a pencil sketch, rough
and unfinished, but wonderfully clever. Even Ruth could appreciate that,
and she was a prejudiced observer, for the sketch was
a caricature of herself. It represented her drawn up to
her full height, with enormous scornful eyes and curling lips.
And the artist had managed to combine an excellent likeness

(19:16):
while accentuating everything that was marked in what she knew
had come to be her normal expression of scorn and disconnect.
I didn't know you were an artist, mister Vince, she said,
handing it back, A poor amateur. Nothing more. You may
keep it. I have not the slightest wish to keep it.
You haven't. It's not in the least clever, and it

(19:37):
is very impertinent of you to show it to me.
The drawing is not funny, it is simply rude. A
little more, said mister Vince, and I shall begin to
think you don't like it. Are you fond of chocolates?
Ruth did not answer. I am sending you some to morrow.
I shall return them. Then I shall send some more,
and some fruit gifts, soliloquized mister Vince. Gifts. That is

(20:01):
the secret, keep sending gifts. If men would only stick
to gifts and quarreling, there would be fewer bachelors on
the morrow. As promised, the chocolates arrived, many pounds of them,
in a lordly box. The bludgeoning of fate had not
wholly scotched and Ruth a human weakness for sweets, and
it was with a distinct effort that she wrapped the
box up again and returned it to the sender. She

(20:22):
went off to her work at the mont de Piete
with a glow of satisfaction which comes to those who
exhibit an iron will in trying circumstances. And at the
Monte Piete there occurred a surprising incident. Surprising incidents, as
mister Vince would have said, are the zero on the
roulette board of life. They pop up disturbingly when least expected,

(20:43):
confusing the mind and altering preconceived opinions. And this was
a very surprising incident. Indeed, Ruth, as has been stated,
sat during her hours of work behind a ground glass screen,
unseen and unseeing to her. The patrons of the establishment
were mere disembodied voices, wheedling voices, pathetic voices, voices that protested,

(21:06):
voices that hectored, voices that whined, moaned, broke, appealed to
the saints, and in various other ways endeavored to instill
into Monsieur Glendino more spacious and princely views on the
subject advancing money on property pledged. She was sitting behind
her screen this morning, scribbling idly on the blotting pad,

(21:26):
for there had been a lull in the business when
the door opened, and the polite bonjeur Monsieur of Monsieur
Grandino announced the arrival of another unfortunate and then, shaking
her like an electric shock, came a voice that she knew,
the pleasant voice of mister Vince. The dialogs that took
place on the other side of the screen were often
protracted and always sordid, but none had seemed to Ruth

(21:49):
so interminable, so hideously sordid as this one, round and
round its miserable center, a silver cigarette case, the dreary
argument circle, the young men plead, Monsieur Grandino, adamant in
his official role, was immovable. Ruth could bear it no longer.
She pressed her hands over her burning ears, and the
voices ceased to trouble her. And with the silence came

(22:12):
thought and a blaze of understanding that flashed upon her
and made all things clear. She understood now why she
had closed her ears. Poverty is an acid which reacts
differently on differing natures. It had reduced mister Eugene Warden's
self respect to a minimum. Ruth's it had reared up
to an abnormal growth. Her pride had become a weed

(22:33):
that ran riot in her soul, darkening it and choking
finer emotions. Perhaps it was her father's naive stratagems for
the enmeshing of a wealthy husband that had produced in
her at last a morbid antipathy to the idea of
playing beggar maid to any man's king. Koffithiua the state
of mind is intelligible. The koffithiu a legend, never has

(22:56):
been told from the beggar maid's point of view, and
therems to have been moments when, if a woman of spirit,
she resented that monarch's somewhat condescending attitude, and felt that,
secure in his wealth and magnificence, he had taken her
grateful acquiescence very much for granted. This, she saw now
was what had prejudiced her against George Vince. She had

(23:18):
assumed that he was rich, he had conveyed the impression
of being rich, and she had been on the defensive
against him. Accordingly, now for the first time she seemed
to know him. A barrier had been broken down, the
royal robes had proved tinsel, and no longer disguised the
man she loved. A touch on her arm aroused her

(23:38):
monsieur Grendenoux was standing by her side. Terms apparently had
been agreed upon, and the interview concluded, for in his
hand was a silver cigarette case. Dreaming, Mademoiselle, I could
not make you hear the murk. I called you. The
morhu did not answer. It is necessary to enter asi loan.
He recited the details, and Ruth entered them in her ledger.

(24:01):
This done, Monsieur Greandeno, dffing his official self side. Ah,
it is a place of much sorrow, Mademoiselle's office. How
he would not take no for an answer. That young
man recently departed a fellow countryman of yours. Mademoiselle, you
would say, what does this young man so well dressed
in a Monte de Piete? But I know better, I Gandeno,

(24:23):
You have an expression you English. I held it in
Paris in a cafe and inquired of its meeting. When
you say of a man that he swanks, how many
young men have I seen here admirably dressed, wretch? You
would say, no, no, no, The Montepiete permits no secrets
to swank. Mademoiselle lud what is it to deceive the world? Yes,

(24:44):
but not the Montpiete yesterday also when you had departed.
Was he here, that young man? Yet here he is
once marked to day he spends his money quickly, alas
that poor young swanker. When Ruth returned home that evening,
she found her father in the city ingram smoking a cigarette.
He greeted her with effusion, but with some uneasiness, for

(25:05):
the old gentleman had nerved himself to a delicate task.
He had made up his mind to night to speak
seriously to Ruth on the subject of her unsatisfactory behavior
to mister Vince. The more he saw that young man,
the more positive was he that this was the human
gold mine for which he had been searching all these
weary years. Accordingly, he threw away his cigarette, kissed Ruth

(25:26):
on the forehead, and began to speak. It had long
been mister Warden's opinion that if his daughter had a fault,
it was a tendency toward her, quite unnecessary, and a
highly inconvenient frankness. She would not evade, ignore, agree, not
to see, she was at times painfully blunt. This happened now.
He was warming to his subject when she interrupted him

(25:48):
with a question, what makes you think mister Vince is rich. Father,
Mister Warden was embarrassed the subject of mister Vince's opulence
had not entered into his discourse. Carefully avoided it. The
fact that he was thinking of it, and that Ruth
knew that he was thinking of it, and that he
knew that Ruth knew had nothing to do with the case.

(26:08):
The question was not in order, and it embarrassed him.
I why I don't I never said he was rich, madame.
I've no doubt that he has amper. He is quite poor.
Mister Warden's jaw fell slightly poor. But my dear, that's absurd,
he cried one only this evening. He broke off abruptly,
But it was too late. Father, You've been borrowing money

(26:30):
from him. Mister Warden drew in his breath, preparatory to
an indignant denial, but he altered his mind and remained silent.
As a borrower of money, he had every quality but one.
He had come to look on her perspicacity in this
matter as a sort of second sight. It had frequently
gone far to spoiling for him the triumph of success,

(26:52):
and he has to pawn things to live. Her voice
was trembling. He was at the Monte Piete to day,
and yesterday too. I heard him. He was arguing with
Monsieur Ganden or haggling. Her voice broke. She was sobbing helplessly.
The memory of it was too raw and vivid. Mister
Warden stood motionless. Many emotions raced through his mind, but

(27:14):
chief among them the thought that this revelation had come
at a very fortunate time, an exceedingly lucky escape. He felt.
He was aware also of a certain measure of indignation
against this deceitful young man who had fraudulently imitated a
gold mine with what might have been disastrous results. The
door opened and Jean, the maid of all work, announced

(27:37):
mister Vince. He entered the room briskly. Good evening, he said,
I have brought you some more chocolates, Miss Warden, and
some fruit grapes. Scott, what's the matter? He stopped, but
only for an instant. The next he had darted across
the room, and before the horrified eyes of mister Warden
was holding Ruth in his arms. She clung to him.

(27:57):
Bill the fox terrier over whom mister Vince had happened
to see tumble was the first to speak. Almost simultaneously,
mister Warden joined in, and there was a striking similarity
between the two voices, for mister Warden's searching for words
emitted as a preliminary to them, a sort of passionate yelp.
Mister Vince removed the hand that was patting Ruth's shoulder

(28:18):
and waved it reassuringly at him. It's all right, he said,
all right, all right. Affinities, explained mister Vince over his shoulder.
Two hearts that beat us one were going to be married.
What's the matter, dear, don't you worry? You're all right?
I refuse, shouted mister Warden. I absolutely a refuse. Mister

(28:39):
Vince lowered Ruth gently into a chair, and holding her hand,
inspected the fermenting, old gentleman, gravely, you refuse, he said,
why I thought you liked me. Mister Warden's frenzy had cooled.
It had been something foreign to his nature. He regretted it.
These things had to be managed with restraint. My personal likes,
and he said, have nothing to do with the matter,

(29:02):
mister Vince. They are beside the point. I have my
daughter to consider. I cannot allow her to marry a
man without a penny. Oh quite right, said mister Vince, approvingly.
Don't have anything to do with the fellow if he
tries to put in send for the police. Mister Warden hesitated.
He had always been a little ashamed of Ruth's occupation,
but necessity compelled mister Vince. My daughter is employed at

(29:24):
the Mont de Piete and was a witness to all
that took place this afternoon. Mister Vince was genuinely agitated.
He looked at Ruth, his face full of concern. You
don't mean to say that you've been slaving away in
that stuffy great Scott, I'll have you out of that quick.
You mustn't go there again. He stooped and kissed her.

(29:46):
Perhaps you'd better let me explain, he said. Explanations I
always think are the zero on the roulette board of life.
They are always somewhere about, waiting to pop up. Have
you ever heard of Vince's stores, mister Warden, Perhaps they
are since your time. Well, my father is the proprietor
one of our specialties, his children's toys. But we haven't
picked a real winner for years, and my father when

(30:08):
I last saw him. Seemed so distressed about it that
I said I'd see if I couldn't whack out an idea. Something, well,
something on the lines of the Billiken only better was
what he felt he needed. I'm not used to brain work,
and after a spell of it, I felt I wanted
to rest. I came here to recuperate. In the very
first morning, I got an inspiration. You may have noticed

(30:28):
that the manager of the Monte Pierte here isn't strong,
unconventional good looks. I saw him at the casino and
the thing flashed on me. He thinks it his name's Gendino,
but it isn't. It's Uncle Zip, the hump Curer, the
man who makes you smile. He pressed Ruth's hand affectionately.
I lost track of him, and it was only the

(30:50):
day before yesterday that I discovered who he was and
where he was to be found. Well, you can't go
up to a man and ask him to pose as
a model for Uncle Zip the hump Curer. The only
way to get sittings was to approach him in the
way of business. So I collected what property I had
and waded in. Now that's the whole story. Do I pass.

(31:10):
Mister Warden's frosty demeanor had gradually thought during this recital,
and now the son of his smile shone out warmly.
He gripped mister Vince's hand with every evidence of esteem,
and after that he did what was certainly the best thing,
by passing gently from the room. On his face as
he went was a look such as Moses might have
worn on the summit of Mount Piscott. It was some

(31:34):
twenty minutes later that Ruth made a remark. I want
you to promise me something, She said, Promise that you
won't go on with that uncle's zip drawing. I know
it means ever so much money, but it might hurt
poor mister Gandino's feelings, and he's been very kind to me.
That settles it, said mister Vince. It's hard on the
children of Great Britain, but say no more, no uncle

(31:55):
zip for them. Ruth looked at him almost with all
you really won't go on with it in spite of
all the money you'd make. Are you always going to
do just what I ask you, no matter what it
cost you? He nodded silently. You have sketched out in
a few words the whole policy of my married life.
I feel an awful fraud, and I had encouraged you

(32:17):
to look forward to years of incessant quarreling. Do you
think you can manage without it? I'm afraid it's going
to be shockingly dull for you, said mister Vince regretfully.
End of story number eight. Ruth in Exile recording by
Mike Harriss