Index     I     II-1     II-2     III

ACT TWO
SCENE 2

SCENE: A lapse of two hours. It is now eleven o'clock.

AT RISE: MRS. FRAYNE is discovered at the piano. She is playing the waltz from Strauss' "Rosenkavalier." After a moment she stops and then plays a few bars of a popular sentimental song from music on the piano. The doorbell rings. She rises and goes to open the door. A splendid figure, "majestic" but graceful. She wears a black velvet evening dress cut very low. Fine arms, columnar throat, rather like Sargent's portrait of "Madame X." KENDALL goes out into the hallway and returns in a moment followed by AUSTIN. He is in evening-dress. His manner with KENDALL at first is embarrassed and hesitant. Gradually, however, she puts him at ease; she has that sort of manner.

KENDALL—Storey's dressing. I'm the first one here.

AUSTIN—Monica's not come yet?

KENDALL—No. Cigarette?

AUSTIN—Er—thanks. [She lights it for him.] Thanks.

KENDALL—You and I are the only prompt ones.

AUSTIN—Yes. . . .

KENDALL—Do you know what time it is?

AUSTIN—[Looking] Ten minutes past eleven.

KENDALL—I was here promptly at eleven. Storey hadn't even begun to dress.

AUSTIN—He hadn't!

KENDALL—I'm awfully glad you came. It was lonesome.

[She smiles at him.]

AUSTIN—I—I'm glad I found you.

KENDALL—Why do I never see you?

AUSTIN—Er—see me?

KENDALL—Storey talks about you all the time. You're one of the few people he respects. I always ask him to bring you to my house but you never come.

AUSTIN—I'm in the laboratory such a lot.

KENDALL—I know. Still I do wish you'd come some time—and bring Miss Grey. . . . [She notices him staring at Monica's coloured scarf which is lying across a chair.] What is it?

AUSTIN—That scarf.

KENDALL—You know it?

AUSTIN—It's—it's Monica's.

KENDALL—You dined here with her—didn't you?

AUSTIN—Yes. I did.

KENDALL—Well, then—

AUSTIN—She wore it when I left with her.

KENDALL—Didn't you take her home?

AUSTIN—She told me to go home alone—to save time.

KENDALL—Well, she probably ran back to tell Storey something.

AUSTIN—[Bitterly] She probably did. It must have taken a long time because—when you came, Storey hadn't even begun to dress.

KENDALL—[After a moment] I think you can trust Storey.

AUSTIN—Can I?

KENDALL—He told me over the phone—you and Miss Grey are engaged.

AUSTIN—There's something funny about it.

KENDALL—There's something funny about most things.

AUSTIN—[Warming to her] Mrs. Frayne—

KENDALL—Call me Kendall.

AUSTIN—Thank you. I wonder—I wonder if Storey tells me everything. I mean—about Monica and himself.

KENDALL—Perhaps he doesn't know everything.

AUSTIN—You mean—perhaps he's in love with her and doesn't know it?

KENDALL—Doesn't know it or won't admit it— ven to himself. Perhaps.

[There is a pause.]

AUSTIN—[Abruptly] Are you going to marry Storey?

KENDALL—I don't know.

AUSTIN—[Naively] I wish you would.

KENDALL—It would solve your problem, wouldn't it? It might complicate mine.

AUSTIN—I'm not even sure it would solve mine. I wish I hadn't got into this.

KENDALL—[She stops playing] It's comforting to know that even a scientific genius is not immune. It rather justifies a weak woman—like me.

AUSTIN—It's rotten to be this way. Wondering about everything, suspecting everybody. Why should I care if Monica came back here or not? And yet—I do.

KENDALL—[Slowly] I care too, Austin. Isn't it—stupid?

AUSTIN—Do you think Monica's in love with Storey?

KENDALL—You want me to tell you she isn't, don't you?

AUSTIN—Sometimes she tells me she loathes him. . . .

KENDALL—That's bad.

AUSTIN—Do you think so?

KENDALL—Wouldn't it be nice if people were like molecules or electrons or whatever you work with? It would be nice for you because you understand all about those things.

AUSTIN—Molecules are mysterious but they're more predictable than Monica. They obey some sort of law.

KENDALL—[Amused and touched by his sincerity] I think you're charming, Austin.

AUSTIN—Don't say that. I know better.

KENDALL—But you are!

AUSTIN—I'm dull and thick-witted and I—I have no words. I can't talk.

KENDALL—I think you do very well.

AUSTIN—[Emboldened] Well, that's because it's you.

KENDALL—[She is still at piano. She plays Tchaikovsky's "Wer Nun die Schnsucht Kennt."] I?

AUSTIN—I find it easy to talk to you. Why is it?

KENDALL—Perhaps it's because—we're sympathetic.

AUSTIN—I feel I know where I am with you. With Monica I never know.

KENDALL—But you don't want to be anywhere with me. With me—you don't have to make an effort. That's why you find me easy to be with.

AUSTIN—I—I'd like you to be my friend.

KENDALL—Gladly.

AUSTIN—Won't you tell me—what to do?

KENDALL—Aren't you assuming—I'm wiser than I really am?

AUSTIN—But you are wise. You know all about the world and—you know—you're sophisticated, [KENDALL is amused.] You've had all sorts of—experiences.

KENDALL—I'm more experienced than you, I fancy. But no amount of experience can keep you from falling in love with the wrong man, or the wrong woman. . . .

AUSTIN—I know that Storey isn't the right man for Monica. I know that he won't make her—happy.

KENDALL—I think he's sufficiently honest to have told her that himself.

AUSTIN—But he should convince her. What's the good of all his talk if he can't convince her?

KENDALL—[Still amused] The more he talks the less convinced she probably is.

AUSTIN—[Fingering scarf] I don't see why she should have returned here.

KENDALL—[Shrugging her shoulders] Some trivial reason, most likely.

AUSTIN—She must have been here quite a time—if Storey wasn't dressed — when you came.

KENDALL—You know Storey. Never hurries. . . .

AUSTIN—It's funny. . . .

KENDALL—I've said—I think you can trust Storey.

AUSTIN—[Bitterly] Can I?

KENDALL—[Surprised at his tone] Why, Austin . . . !

[Enter STOREY, dressed, KENDALL moves to the piano. AUSTIN remains fixed, makes no move toward STOREY.]

STOREY—Awfully sorry to keep you waiting. But, then, Monica isn't here yet, either.

KENDALL—[From the piano] Two hours to dress. There's a fop for you, Austin. [She plays a sentimental song.]

STOREY—[To AUSTIN] Fact is I tried to write a little after you and Monica left.

AUSTIN—[Stiffly] Did you?

STOREY—A few lines. . . .

KENDALL—[Continuing to play] You're getting industrious, Storey. What's the matter?

STOREY—I've decided to marry, settle down, cultivate the virtues.

AUSTIN—Marry?

STOREY—Don't you know I propose to Mrs. Frayne every day? And if I'm to support her in the style to which she's been accustomed I've got to work much harder.

KENDALL—[Leaving the piano] Don't you believe him, Austin. I looked at your manuscript before Austin came and there was only one sentence added to what I read this afternoon. [She goes to the tabouret and picks up manuscript.]

STOREY—But that one sentence was born of a travail—lasting two hours.

KENDALL—[Picking up manuscript and reading] "She rose and left him . . ." Did it take you two hours to write that?

STOREY—I did brilliantly to write that in two hours. The exquisite simplicity of that sentence! The compactness of it! Think of the million things I might have written. Think of all the sentences in the world. And I picked that one. In two hours! The tremendous—celerity of the choice astonishes me now I think of it. How did I do it?

KENDALL—[To AUSTIN] Is he drunk?

STOREY—No, but it's a good idea. [He pours champagne.] Kendall . . . [He hands her a glass.] Austin . . .

AUSTIN—No, thanks.

STOREY—But you've got to. It's to celebrate your engagement to Monica.

AUSTIN—I don't feel like it.

STOREY—But I want us all to be gay tonight. I can't get comfortably drunk with a sober man in the party.

KENDALL—Don't make him drink if he doesn't want to, Storey.

STOREY—Austin, have you ever been drunk in your life?

AUSTIN—Not really drunk, no.

STOREY—[To KENDALL] Imagine that!

KENDALL—If you're gloomy when you begin, drink only intensifies your mood.

STOREY—Nonsense.

KENDALL—Well, so I've heard.

STOREY—Here, Austin. It's glorious stuff. Drink it and in ten minutes you'll feel imperial, omniscient. You'll know more about physics than Einstein—the Universe'll stretch out below you like a plaid.

AUSTIN—What's the use of a sensation like that?

STOREY—What's the use of love?

AUSTIN—Well, I'll drink it anyway. [They lift their glasses.]

KENDALL—Happy days. . . .

STOREY—Happy days. . . . [They drink. Quoting:] "The true, the blushful Hippocrene."

KENDALL—Nothing blushful about Roget. You're colour-blind, Storey.

STOREY—Just an excuse to quote Keats. "With beaded bubbles winking at the brim . . ."

AUSTIN—[Truculently] Let's have another!

STOREY—That's the spirit. . . .

[The doorbell rings.]

KENDALL—Miss Grey. . . .

STOREY—I'll let her in. Pour the drinks, Austin. . . . [He goes out. AUSTIN looks uncomfortable. He pours the champagne. Watches the door, KENDALL watches him. MONICA comes in. She looks charming in a simple evening frock, a picture of youthful loveliness, storey follows her.] May I present Miss Grey . . . ?

MONICA—[A bit self-conscious] Hello, Mrs. Frayne.

STOREY—I believe you've met Mr. Lowe. . . .

MONICA—Hello, Austin.

STOREY—Austin's on the loose tonight, Monica. Just guzzling champagne. . . .

KENDALL—Where would you like to go, Miss Grey? I haven't made a reservation anywhere. I wanted to know which dance-place you preferred.

MONICA—I am crazy about the music at the Trocadero.

KENDALL—Storey, will you telephone?

MONICA—Although you can't dance there. It's too crowded.

KENDALL—They're all crowded.

STOREY—I've heard of a marvelous coloured place—

MONICA—Oh, where?

STOREY—In the heart of Harlem.

MONICA—[Excited] Oh, let's go!

STOREY—I'm told you have to be a good shot . . .

KENDALL—Is that the place where the man was killed?

STOREY—Yes.

MONICA—How exciting!

STOREY—Austin, you're marrying a savage.

AUSTIN—Am I?

MONICA—Are you jilting me, Austin?

KENDALL—If we're going anywhere—we'd better start.

AUSTIN—[A trifle desperately] One more drink. . . .

STOREY—Good! I always felt, Austin, if you ever got started—

[He pours.]

MONICA—A little one for me.

STOREY—This is Roget '15.

MONICA—Is it? Well, then, a big one.

KENDALL—None for me, Storey.

STOREY—Oh, please—we'll drink a toast. [He pours for himself.] To our married life . . . !

MONICA—But I haven't got one.

STOREY—But you will.

MONICA—Proposing to me, Storey?

STOREY—Don't flirt, Monica. Austin's jealous enough already. . . .

KENDALL—What a prosaic toast!

STOREY—Exactly. [Lifting glass.] To our married life—may it be like the good prose of the English masters, solid, clear, sometimes hovering close to poetry—but in the main sensible and intelligent and—well-behaved.

[They drink.]

KENDALL—Nice toast, Storey.

MONICA—I don't think it's nice at all. I certainly don't want that sort of marriage.

STOREY—Let's drink to your sort.

MONICA—I'd like my marriage to be always like fine poetry—thrilling and exciting—and occasionally sensible and well-behaved—like prose.

STOREY—A large order, Austin!

AUSTIN—[Bitterly] I suppose you mean that only you could fill it.

MONICA—[Amazed] Why, Austin. . . . !

[There is an embarrassed pause.]

KENDALL—We'd better be starting.

STOREY—No, wait a minute. [To AUSTIN.] Are you angry with me?

KENDALL—It's the wine . . .

AUSTIN—[Sullenly] No, it's not the wine.

STOREY—What is it then? Come on—out with it. In vino Veritas!

MONICA—What does that mean?

STOREY—It means that when you're tight you tell your right name.

MONICA—Oh, that's exciting! Everybody tell the truth—the absolute truth.

STOREY—We're not drunk enough for that.

AUSTIN—[To MONICA] You might begin by telling me why you lied to me tonight.

KENDALL—Now, you see, Storey . . . !

STOREY—You have had too much, Austin.

AUSTIN—[Defiant] I'll have as much as I like [He pours himself another glassful and gulps it. He still addresses MONICA.] You told me you were going downtown. You came back here.

MONICA—Yes, I did!

AUSTIN—I found your scarf.

STOREY—[Pouring himself a drink] What if she did?

AUSTIN—I suspected something. When she told me to go on alone—I came back and saw her go in. I hung around in the street—

KENDALL—Do let's get started.

STOREY—[Drinking] Let's talk it out. You hung around in the street. You, Austin!

AUSTIN—Yes, I did. It was all I could do to keep from bursting in on you and—shouting. I hated you, Storey. I hate you now.

STOREY—Why?

AUSTIN—I resent you. I resent your fluency, your gift of words, your superficial ... I resent you.

STOREY—[Pours] Have another.

KENDALL—Please, Storey . . . !

STOREY—Why not? All of us. It's a rare moment. I feel we'll talk. We'll really talk—all of us. This sort of thing doesn't happen. It'll be—revealing. [Lifting his glass.] I swear to tell the truth—and nothing but the truth—so help me—Horace!

[They all stand, glass in hand.]

KENDALL—Something tells me we'll all be sorry for this. You, Storey, more than the rest.

STOREY—[Recklessly] I'll risk it. [Lifting his glass.] To the Truth. [He drinks and AUSTIN, MONICA and KENDALL just sip their wine.] Think of it—here is Austin Lowe—standing in the street, eating his heart out, hating me. Why? Because Monica ran upstairs to prattle some nonsense that seemed to her important. The most promising young scientist in America—reduced to the level of an Apache. Did you hate me bitterly, Austin?

AUSTIN—I wanted you to die.

STOREY—What did you think was happening in here?

KENDALL—This is silly.

STOREY—[To AUSTIN] I'll reward your frankness. I'll be frank too.

AUSTIN—I pictured her coming in here—going to you—I pictured her looking up to you with love in her eyes—love that should have been meant for me. I pictured—I wanted you to die!

STOREY—Sex reduces everybody to a common denominator. Here's Austin . . . always telling me that all creation is the result of an accident . . .

AUSTIN—What's that got to do with it?

STOREY—You told me once that a slight change in the temperature a few thousand years ago would have put us all at the mercy of the ants. . . . You're more conscious than any of us of the insignificance of man, of the feebleness of his cry amid the vast solitudes of time and space. Your knowledge makes you one man in ten million. And yet you stand in the streets looking up at that window and wanting to kill me because I'm kissing a girl! Savage, Austin!

AUSTIN—I suppose you're so damn civilized.

STOREY—I? Not at all. When I came into this room before and you told me Monica was going to marry you I felt a pang of resentment too.

MONICA—[Delighted] It was true, then!

STOREY—Oh, it didn't spring from love for you. I felt: Why does he deserve her? I felt an impulse to take her away from you.

KENDALL—This is interesting, Storey.

STOREY—[To her] It's not that I'm in love with Monica.

MONICA—[Sipping her wine] Fib!

STOREY—[Ignoring her] It's that I resent Austin. I'm jealous of him. I envy him his scientific eminence, I envy him his money. . . .

KENDALL—You might envy his sincerity, his character.

STOREY—I wouldn't have his character for worlds. It would destroy my amusements.  [Interested in his own reaction.] I said to myself: "Why should this mole-like creature"— meaning Austin—"possess this radiant girl?"

AUSTIN—I know that's what you think—I'm a mole, a scientific mole.

STOREY—Did I say that?

KENDALL—You're a third-rate writer and Austin is a first-rate scientist.

MONICA—Storey's not third-rate.

STOREY—My dear child, it's true. Artistically I'm third-rate. My mind is not as superficial as my work. . . .

KENDALL—Or as your life.

STOREY—I can't take myself seriously—that's my tragedy.

MONICA—Well, I don't care what you are. ... I love you, Storey!

STOREY—Really, Monica, you'll embarrass me.

KENDALL—We mustn't give Miss Grey more champagne.

AUSTIN—I don't think I'll have a very good time at this party. I'm going home.

STOREY—You won't. I won't let you.

AUSTIN—[Like a child who feels he's not wanted by anybody] I don't see why / should stay.

KENDALL—Nor I. It appears we ought to leave Monica and Storey alone.

STOREY—That would be a calamity.

KENDALL—[Feline] For Miss Grey?

STOREY—For both of us. It would tie us to each other for ever.

MONICA—I don't see where the calamity comes in . . .

STOREY—You're too young to see. You're too much in love to see. But I see—for both of us.

KENDALL—If Austin and I had any sense we'd leave you together.

MONICA—Why don't you?

KENDALL—Why don't I?

MONICA—[Challengingly] Why don't you?

KENDALL—[Slowly] Because—

MONICA—Because?

KENDALL—I'm afraid I should have a sleepless night.

STOREY—If I were a cad I should have an affair with Monica. But regrettably I am a Puritan. Can't help it. It's in my blood.

MONICA—Liar!

STOREY—You are right, Monica. It is not Puritanism. It's prudence. I'd have to marry you. That would be fatal.

MONICA—Why?

STOREY—You would be happy for a year and unhappy the rest of your life. If you marry Austin you'll be unhappy for a year and happy the rest of your life.

KENDALL—And if I marry you?

STOREY—[Pouring champagne for her] Your life will have the excitement of a perilous risk.

KENDALL—But I don't want excitement. I want—tranquility, I want to be secure.

STOREY—Then you should marry Austin. Matrimonially he is a gilt-edged bond. I am a highly speculative stock.

KENDALL—What do you say, Austin?

AUSTIN—[Who is befuddled now] What do I say to what?

KENDALL—Shall we be sensible? Shall we get married—you and I?

MONICA—Say yes, Austin.

AUSTIN—But I'm not in love with her. I'm in love with you.

KENDALL—[To STOREY] I'm out of luck, Storey.

STOREY—Don't weep over him. I'll take you on.

KENDALL—You're the only resource left me. I accept you—not because you're worthy— but because I can't help it.

STOREY—You hear, everybody—she accepts me.

KENDALL—I'll take a—flyer in you.

STOREY—[Touching his glass to hers] And I'll try not to fluctuate too much. [After he drinks.] Now then, Austin. Your way is clear.

KENDALL—And now I really think we've talked enough nonsense. We'd better start.

STOREY—I'm just in the mood for a good jazz-band.

KENDALL—Who'll carry the champagne?

STOREY—Austin.

AUSTIN—[In better spirits] I'll take it. [He lifts hamper.] Monica, I don't dance. Will you teach me?

MONICA—[Tensely] Before we go—there's something I want to say.

STOREY—You'll tell us in the taxi.

MONICA—No. Here.

KENDALL—Another revelation?

MONICA—Yes.

[Her voice and manner are very strained, like one keyed up to accomplish an impossible feat.]

STOREY—What's the matter, Monica? Aren't you well?

KENDALL—You would start this.

AUSTIN—[Very concerned] Monica . . . !

MONICA—Since everybody's telling the truth—why shouldn't I?

STOREY—Don't say anything you'll be sorry for.

MONICA—Even if I am sorry—I'm going to say it.

KENDALL—I really think we ought to go out.

AUSTIN—The fresh air'll do her good.

MONICA—I'll say it if it—kills me.

AUSTIN—[Anxious] What is it, Monica?

STOREY—[Suspicious] Watch your step, child.

MONICA—I think you ought to know it, Mrs. Frayne. Austin, I think you ought to know it.

AUSTIN—I know more than I want to now. [Picking up her wraps.] There's been too much confession. Let's start.

MONICA—No, stop. All of you. I want you to know—that Storey—Storey is the father of my child—my unborn child.

STOREY—[Amazed] Monica!

MONICA—There now, I've said it. I feel better.

[She takes a quick gulp of champagne, KENDALL and AUSTIN stare accusingly at STOREY. They are speechless.]

STOREY—She's ill. She's had too much champagne.

MONICA—I haven't. I've had less than any of you.

STOREY—Monica—you're—[Turning to the others.] Surely, you don't believe—

MONICA—If I had the courage to tell it. . . .

[She turns away. She cannot finish. The strain has really made her faint.]

KENDALL—I did think, Storey, that you observed some code.

STOREY—But I tell you, the child is—she's irresponsible. She's doing this—

AUSTIN—[Almost screaming] You cad! You damn, dirty cad!

KENDALL—We'd better go. Austin, will you take me home?

STOREY—She doesn't know what she's saying, I tell you.

MONICA—I do, too.

STOREY—Kendall, for pity's sake, listen.

KENDALL—I never want to see you again. Are you coming, Austin?

[She is at the door.]

AUSTIN—[Broken] Monica, is it — true?

MONICA—Yes, Austin.

[KENDALL goes out.]

AUSTIN—True. . . .

STOREY—Austin, I swear to you it's not true. She's crazy.

AUSTIN—[Laughing a bit wildly] Well—of course. Why not?

[He picks up MONICA'S scarf lying on the chair, drops it and goes out. Between STOREY and MONICA there is a long silence. He simply stares at her.]

MONICA—[At last] Gee, what've I done? [STOREY still stares at her.] I had no idea they'd raise such a fuss. . . . But once I got started I couldn't back out, could I? [As he does not speak.] You're angry? After all it was harder for me than it was for you. [He still says nothing.] Please say something, Storey. If you don't—I'll cry.

STOREY—You think you're smart, don't you?

MONICA—I think I'm brave. Storey, it's for you I did it too.

STOREY—Oh, for me.

MONICA—Storey—don't you want me?

STOREY—No.

MONICA—Tonight—when I came back here—you made me feel you did. I was sure you did.

STOREY—That will pass and what will be left?

MONICA—Isn't there more to it than that, Storey?

STOREY—No.

MONICA—I won't let you go, Storey. I'm going to fight for you—I'm going to bring you back—to what you were—to that youth you've let go. . . . It's your one chance now, Storey—your last desperate chance—don't you see, Storey?

STOREY—But I don't want to go back. I can't go back.

MONICA—It's such a little distance, Storey.

STOREY—Is it?

MONICA—These things you're selling yourself for—what good are they? Is this [She includes the room in a gesture.] what you really want? I can't believe it. Storey, dearest, I can see such a fine way we might live. . . .

STOREY—I tell you it wouldn't work, Monica—even if I did try to be what you think I could be—it would be no use.

MONICA—I can't think of arguments the way you can—I can't put things the way you can—I just know that if you had any bravery—if you had any courage ... all these things you say are lies you've made up—lies to justify yourself, to prop you up—you're a pampered, weak thing dawdling away your life on a sofa when you might be standing up straight on your own feet. . . .

STOREY—Perhaps. Only I can see us now—five years from now—in a cheap flat—you looking blowsy—with little wrinkles under your eyes—and I in cheap shirts and cracked
shoes—brooding in a room over the corpse of my genius. . . . [He gets up and goes to the piano and fills her glass.] Well, I'll marry you—but the joke's on you. . . . You can't have, life on your own terms, Monica. I can't. Nobody can.

*MONICA—Compromise. . . . I suppose I'll come to that, too.

STOREY—[He drinks and goes to her] What's the use of thinking? Let's finish the champagne. Oh, you are lovely—kiss me.

MONICA—No, Storey.

STOREY—Now that you have lost your illusions you can begin to live.

[She looks at him—falters to the chair. A little laugh breaks from her. . . . She sinks into the chair weeping piteously. STOREY watches her—he gulps another drink—but her misery touches him. Compassionate he runs to her—kneels beside her, strokes her hair.]

STOREY—[Desperate—to stanch her grief] Monica, darling, don't. I'll try. I'll try. Maybe I can do it. Maybe with you—I can do it—dear Monica. Dear child, I'll try. I'll try. I'll try.

CURTAIN

**MONICA—[Watching him, trembling—she is seeing him as if for the first time] I see I can't. . . . !

STOREY—I'll marry you, Monica—but the joke's on you. . . . [He sits at the piano and plays, singing rather savagely the improvised catch.] "With me by your side to help you."

[She falters to the chair, weeping piteously.]

MONICA—Storey—stop—

[But he plays on, cruelly, in an ecstasy of self-revealment—she huddles in the chair to escape the flagellation of sound, as the curtain falls.]

CURTAIN

*Ending of Act II in original 1927 Doubleday, Page & Company edition.
**Ending of Act II in subsequent editions.

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