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This portrait of the banker, who accumulated riches both on earth and in heaven, may possibly be overdrawn, however, because Frances and I were "artistic temperaments" that viewed the type with a dislike and distrust amounting to contempt. The majority considered Samuel Franklyn a worthy man and a good citizen. The majority, doubtless, held the saner view.
What we have to consider first, I take it, is what prospect there is of our finding you beside us in the House after the next election. FRANKLYN. When I speak of politics, Mr Lubin, I am not thinking of elections, or available seats, or party funds, or the registers, or even, I am sorry to have to add, of parliament as it exists at present.
He has to shew them how to provide for their daughters after their deaths. Has it occurred to you, Lubin, that if you live three hundred years, your daughters will have to wait a devilish long time for their money? FRANKLYN. The money may not wait for them. Few investments flourish for three hundred years. SAVVY. And what about before your death? Suppose they didn't get married!
FRANKLYN. Well, you remember, don't you, that in the Garden of Eden Adam and Eve were not created mortal, and that natural death, as we call it, was not a part of life, but a later and quite separate invention? SURGE. Now you mention it, thats true. Death came afterwards. LUBIN. What about accidental death? That was always possible. FRANKLYN. Precisely.
* See this matter discussed in Bacon's Letters published by Dr Birch, p. 181. See note BBB, at the end of the volume. * Franklyn, p. 32. He asserted, in the most solemn manner, that he had nowise contributed to Essex's death: but the last letter in Murden's Collection contains the strongest proof of the contrary.
THE PARLOR MAID. But do you think it would ever be thought respectable, sir? CONRAD. My good girl, all biological necessities have to be made respectable whether we like it or not; so you neednt worry yourself about that. Franklyn returns and crosses the room to his chair, but does not sit down. The parlor maid goes out. CONRAD. Well, what does Joyce Burge want?
His brooding, congested eye fell upon me as we entered, and an expression of alarm became visible in its depths. He pushed his chair back and retreated to a corner of the room. "Dr. Harden!" he exclaimed fearfully, "you oughtn't to come here like that, you really oughtn't." "Don't be an ass, Franklyn," I said firmly. "You are bound to catch the germ sooner or later. It will impress you immensely."
SAVVY. Hear, hear! LUBIN. That often happens. Which woman do you mean? FRANKLYN. Queen Victoria, to whom your Prime Ministers stood in the relation of naughty children whose heads she knocked together when their tempers and quarrels became intolerable. Within thirteen years of her death Europe became a hell. SURGE. Quite true.
Her tone was lighter, though nothing could convince me that the matter itself was light just then. "And in any case," tightening her grip on my arm as we passed into the bright enormous corridor and caught sight of Mrs. Franklyn waiting in the cheerless hall below, "I'm very glad you're here, Bill, and Mabel, I know, is too."
Youre before your time. CONRAD. Behave yourself. Theres a visitor. She turns quickly and sees the rector. She instinctively switches at her Gozzoli fringe with her fingers, but gives it up as hopeless. CONRAD. Usually called Savvy, short for Savage. FRANKLYN. You know him? SAVVY. Rather. Sit down, Bill. FRANKLYN. Mr Haslam is going, Savvy. He has an engagement. SAVVY. I know. I'm the engagement.
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