Mrs Birling: Eric! Eric: (rather noisily) All the best! She's got a nasty temper sometimes – but she's not bad really. Good old Sheila! Sheila: I can't drink to this, can I? When do I drink? Gerald: You can to me. Sheila: (quite and serious now) All right then. I drink to you, Gerald. //for a moment they look at each other// Gerald: (quietly) Thank you. And I drink to you – and hope I can make you as happy as you deserve to be. Shelia: (trying to be light and easy) You be careful – or I’ll start weeping. Gerald: (smiling) Well, perhaps this will help to stop it. (he produces a ring case.) Sheila: (excited) Oh – Gerald – you’ve got it – is it the one you wanted me to have? Gerald: (giving the case to her) Yes – the very one. Sheila: (taking out the ring) Oh – it's wonderful! Look – mummy – isn't it a beauty? Oh – darling - (she kisses Gerald hastily.) Eric: steady the Sheila: (who has put the ring on, admiringly) I think it's perfect. Now I really feel engaged. Mrs Birling: So you darling. It's a lovely ring. Be careful with it. Sheila: careful! I'll never let it go out of my sight for an instant. Mrs Birling: (smiling) Well, it came just at the moment. That was clever of you, Gerald. Now, Arthur, if you've no more to say, I think Sheila and I had better go into the drawing room and leave you men- Birling: (rather heavily) I just want to say this.(noticing that Sheila is still admiring her ring.) are you listening, Sheila? This concerns you too. And after all I don't often make speeches at you -
Birling: No, no, I couldn't do that. And don't say anything yet. Gerald: Not even to my mother? I know she'd be delighted. Birling: Well, when she comes back, you might drop a hint to her. And you can promise her that we'll try to keep out of trouble during the next few months. //they both laugh. Eric enters// Eric: What's the joke? Started telling stories? Birling: No. want another glass of port? Eric: (sitting down) Yes, please. (takes decanter and helps himself.) mother says we mustn't stay too long. But I don't think it matters. I left'em talking about clothes again. You'd think a girl had never any clothes before she gets married. Women are potty about 'em. Birling: Yes, but you've got to remember, my boy, that clothes mean something different to a woman. Not just something to wear – and not only something to make 'em look prettier – but – well, a sort of sign or token of their self-respect. Gerald: That's true. Eric: (eagerly) Yes, I remember – (but he checks himself.) Birling: Well, what do you remember? Eric: (confused) Nothing. Birling: Nothing? Gerald: (amused) Sounds a bit fishy to me. Birling: (taking it in the same manner) Yes, you don't know what some of these boys get up to nowadays. More money to spend and time to spare than I had when I was Eric’s age. They worked us hard in those days and kept us short of cash. Thought even then – we broke out and had a bit of fun sometimes. Gerald: I’ll bet you did. Birling: (solemnly) But this is the point. I don't want to lecture you two young fellows again. But what so many of you don't seem to understand now, when things are so much easier, is that a man has to make his own way – has to look after himself – and his family too, of course, when he has one – and so long as he does that he won't come to much harm. But the way some of these cranks talk and write now, you'd think everybody has to look after everybody else, as if we
Inspector: No. // the four exchange bewildered and perturbed glances.// Birling: ( with marked change of tone) Well, of course, if I’d known that earlier, I wouldn't has called you officious and talked about reporting you. You understand that, don't you, inspector? I thought that – for some reason best known to yourself – you were making the most of this tiny bit of information I could give you. I'm sorry. This makes a difference. You sure of your facts? Inspector: Some of them – yes. Birling: I can't think they can be of any great consequence. Inspector: The girl's dead though. Sheila: What do you mean by saying that? You talk as if we were responsible-- Birling: (cutting in) Just a minute, Sheila. Now , inspector, perhaps you and I had better go and talk this over quietly in a corner-- Sheila: (cutting in) Why should you? He's finished with you. He says it's one of us now. Birling: Yes, and I’m trying to settle it sensibly for you. Gerald: Well, there's nothing to settle as far as I’m concerned. I've never known an Eva Smith. Eric: Neither have I. Sheila: Was that her name? Eva Smith? Gerald: Yes. Sheila: Never heard it before. Gerald: So were are you now inspector? Inspector: I was before, Mr croft. I told you – that like a lot of these young women, she'd used more than one name. She was still Eva Smith when Mr Birling sacked her – for wanting twenty-five shillings a week instead of twenty-two and six. But after that she stopped being Eva Smith. Perhaps she'd had enough of it. Eric: Can't blame her.
Inspector: After about a couple of months, just when she felt she was settling down nicely, they told her she'd have to go. Birling: Not doing her work properly? Inspector: there was nothing wrong with the way she was doing her work. They admitted that. Birling: There must have been something wrong. Inspector: All she knew was – that a customer complained about her – and so she had to go. Sheila: (staring at him, agitated) When was this? Inspector: (impressively) At the end of January – last year. Sheila: What – what did this girl look like? Inspector: If you'll come over here, I'll show you. // He moves nearer a light – perhaps standard lamp – and she crosses to him. He produces the photograph. She looks at it closely, recognizes it with a little cry, gives a half-stifled sob, and then runs out. The inspector puts the photograph back in his pocket and stares speculatively after her. The other three stare in amazement for a moment.// Birling: What's the matter with her? Eric: She recognized her from the photograph, didn't she? Inspector: Yes. Birling: (angrily) Why the devil do you want to go upsetting the child like that? Inspector: I didn't do it. She's upsetting herself. Birling: Well – why – why? Inspector: I don't know – yet. That's something I have to find out. Birling: (still angrily) Well – if you don't mind – I'll find out first. Gerald: Shall I go after her. Birling: (moving) No, leave this to me. I must also have a word with my wife – tell her what's happening. (turns at the door, staring at the inspector angrily.) We were having a nice
Sheila: we all started like that – so confident, so pleased with ourselves until he began asking us questions. // Mrs Birling looks from sheila to the inspector.// Mrs Birling: you seem to have made a great impression on this child, inspector. Inspector: (coolly) we often do on the young ones. They're more impressionable. //He and Mrs Birling look at each other for a moment. Then Mrs Birling turns to sheila again// Mrs Birling: you're looking tired, dear. I think you ought to go to bed – and forget about this absurd business. You'll feel better in the morning. Sheila: mother, I couldn't possibly go. Nothing could be worse for me. We've settled all that. I'm staying here until I know why that girl killed herself. Mrs Birling: nothing but morbid curiosity. Sheila: no it isn't. Mrs Birling: please don't contradict me like that. And in any case I don't suppose for a moment that we can understand why the girl committed suicide. Girls of that class-- Sheila:(urgently, cutting in) mother, don't – please don't. For your own sake, as well as ours, you Mrs Birling: (annoyed) mustn't – what? Really, sheila! Sheila: (slowly, carefully now) you mustn't try to build up a kind of wall between us and that girl. If you do, then the inspector will just break it down. And it'll be all the worse when he does. Mrs Birling: I don't understand you. ( to inspector.) Do you? Inspector: yes. And she'd right. Mrs Birling: (haughtily) I beg your pardon! Inspector: (very plainly) I said yes – I do understand her. And she's right. Mrs Birling: that – I consider – is a trifle impertinent, inspector. // sheila short hysterical laugh// now, what is it, sheila?
changed so much. Mrs Birling: I don't understand you, Inspector. Inspector: you mean you don't choose to do, Mrs Birling. Mrs Birling: (angrily) I meant what I said. Inspector: you're not telling me the truth. Mrs Birling: I beg your pardon! Birling: (angrily, to Inspector) Look here, I'm not to have this, Inspector. You'll apologize at once. Inspector: Apologize for what – doing my duty? Birling: No, for being so offensive about it. I'm a public man- Inspector: (massively) Public men, Mr Birling, have responsibilities as well as privileges. Birling: Possibly. But you weren't asked to come here to talk to me about my reponsibilities. Sheila: Let's hope not. Though I'm beginning to wonder. Mrs Birling: Does that mean anything, sheila? Sheila: it that we've no excuse now for putting on airs and that if we've any sense we won't try. Father threw this girl out because she asked for decent wages. I went and pushed her farther out, right into the street, just because I was angry and she was pretty. Gerald set her up as his mistress and then dropped her when it suited him. And now you're pretending you don't recognize her from that photograph. I admit I don't know why you should, but I know jolly well you did in fact recognize her, from the way you looked. And if you're not telling the truth, why should the Inspector apologize? And can't you see, both of you, you're making it worse? // she turns away. We hear the front door slam again.// Birling: that was the door again. Mrs Birling: gerald must have come back. Inspector: unless your son has just gone out. Birling: I'll see.