Loyalties | Page 2

parlour tricks. That
young Jew gets himself disliked.
LADY A. Aren't you rather prejudiced?
WINSOR. Not a bit. I like Jews. That's not against him--rather the
contrary these days. But he pushes himself. The General tells me he's
deathly keen to get into the Jockey Club. [Taking off his tie] It's
amusing to see him trying to get round old St Erth.
LADY A. If Lord St Erth and General Canynge backed him he'd get in
if he did sell carpets!
WINSOR. He's got some pretty good horses. [Taking off his waistcoat]
Ronny Dancy's on his bones again, I'm afraid. He had a bad day. When
a chap takes to doing parlour stunts for a bet--it's a sure sign. What
made him chuck the Army?
LADY A. He says it's too dull, now there's no fighting.
WINSOR. Well, he can't exist on backing losers.
LADY A. Isn't it just like him to get married now? He really is the most
reckless person.
WINSOR. Yes. He's a queer chap. I've always liked him, but I've never
quite made him out. What do you think of his wife?
LADY A. Nice child; awfully gone on him.
WINSOR. Is he?
LADY A. Quite indecently--both of them. [Nodding towards the wall,
Left] They're next door.
WINSOR. Who's beyond them?
LADY A. De Levis; and Margaret Orme at the end. Charlie, do you
realise that the bathroom out there has to wash those four?
WINSOR. I know.
LADY A. Your grandfather was crazy when he built this wing; six

rooms in a row with balconies like an hotel, and only one bath--if we
hadn't put ours in.
WINSOR. [Looking at his watch] Half-past eleven. [Yawns]
Newmarket always makes me sleepy. You're keeping Morison up.
LADY ADELA goes to the door, blowing a kiss. CHARLES goes up to
his dressing-table and begins to brush his hair, sprinkling on essence.
There is a knock on the corridor door.
Come in.
DE LEVIS enters, clad in pyjamas and flowered dressing-gown. He is a
dark, good-looking, rather Eastern young man. His face is long and
disturbed.
Hallo! De Levis! Anything I can do for you?
DE LEVIS. [In a voice whose faint exoticism is broken by a vexed
excitement] I say, I'm awfully sorry, Winsor, but I thought I'd better tell
you at once. I've just had--er--rather a lot of money stolen.
WINSOR. What! [There is something of outrage in his tone and glance,
as who should say: "In my house?"] How do you mean stolen?
DE LEVIS. I put it under my pillow and went to have a bath; when I
came back it was gone.
WINSOR. Good Lord! How much?
DE LEVIS. Nearly a thousand-nine hundred and seventy, I think.
WINSOR. Phew! [Again the faint tone of outrage, that a man should
have so much money about him].
DE LEVIS. I sold my Rosemary filly to-day on the course to Bentman
the bookie, and he paid me in notes.
WINSOR. What? That weed Dancy gave you in the Spring?
DE LEVIS. Yes. But I tried her pretty high the other day; and she's in
the Cambridgeshire. I was only out of my room a quarter of an hour,
and I locked my door.
WINSOR. [Again outraged] You locked--
DE LEVIS. [Not seeing the fine shade] Yes, and had the key here. [He
taps his pocket] Look here! [He holds out a pocket-book] It's been
stuffed with my shaving papers.
WINSOR. [Between feeling that such things don't happen, and a sense
that he will have to clear it up] This is damned awkward, De Levis.
DE LEVIS. [With steel in his voice] Yes. I should like it back.
WINSOR. Have you got the numbers of the notes?

DE LEVIS. No.
WINSOR. What were they?
DE LEVIS. One hundred, three fifties, and the rest tens and fives.
WINSOR. What d'you want me to do?
DE LEVIS. Unless there's anybody you think--
WINSOR. [Eyeing him] Is it likely?
DE Levis. Then I think the police ought to see my room. It's a lot of
money.
WINSOR. Good Lord! We're not in Town; there'll be nobody nearer
than Newmarket at this time of night--four miles.
The door from the bedroom is suddenly opened and LADY ADELA
appears. She has on a lace cap over her finished hair, and the wrapper.
LADY A. [Closing the door] What is it? Are you ill, Mr De Levis?
WINSOR. Worse; he's had a lot of money stolen. Nearly a thousand
pounds.
LADY A. Gracious! Where?
DE LEVIS. From under my pillow, Lady Adela--my door was
locked--I was in the bath-room.
LADY A. But how fearfully thrilling!
WINSOR. Thrilling! What's to be done? He wants it back.
LADY A. Of course! [With sudden realisation] Oh! But Oh! it's quite
too unpleasant!
WINSOR. Yes! What am I to do?