Quinn—(Slowly.) Two years ago when you married that damned fiddler, I told ye never to come here again.
Molly—Father.
Quinn—(Sternly.) I meant it then, and I mean it now. Get out!
Molly—Won't you let me speak to you?
Quinn—There's nothin' you can say to me, I gave you yer choice of us long ago, and ye stuck to him. Stick to him now, I don't want ye.
Mrs. Quinn—(Enters door L with tea things.) Molly, my dear little Molly.
Molly—Mother!
Mrs. Quinn—(Ignoring Quinn.) Sit down now, and I'll give ye a dish of tea.
Quinn—She'll not sit down in this house.
Mrs. Quinn—(Easily, tho her heart is beating rapidly.) Will she not? Here, take off yer hat and coat, and drink this while it's hot. I'll bring another cup for yer father.
(Exit to kitchen. Molly remains standing, and faces her father. She makes no attempt to remove her wraps.)
Molly—Won't you let me come back to you andmother? Won't you forgive me?
Quinn—(Slowly.) Why are ye so eager to be back?
Molly—I need you and mother, now I'm alone.
Quinn—(Quickly.) Alone? He's left ye, has he?
(Molly unable to answer for her tears, nods head.)
Quinn—The things I told you about him were true then? He was no fit man to marry a decent girl!
Molly—Father, father, don't say that!
(Mrs. Quinn enters.)
Quinn—(Working himself into a rage.) The fine gentleman has left Molly. All his grand love makin' to end in two years, tho Gawd knows I didn't expect it to last that long. (To Molly.) Why hadn't ye sense enough not to be gulled by him? Didn't I tell ye, he was a rogue and a scoundrel? Chucked aside for another woman, I suppose ye were! Left ye, left ye—
Mrs. Quinn—Ye blunderin' idiot, last Tuesday the boy died.
Quinn—(Helplessly.) Died? I—I thought—(to Molly.) Sit down—drink the tea.... Is—is there an egg for her?
Mrs. Quinn—There's no eggs here. The hens went on strike with the trolley men. Let me help you off with yer coat, Molly. What have ye done to yer arm? What's that bandage on yer arm for?
Molly—You remember, I told you in my last letter, mother—
Quinn—(Sourly.) So ye've been writin', hev ye?
Mrs. Quinn—D'ye think a mother will let her only child slip easily out of her heart and life?
Molly—(Pleading.) Mother, father!
Quinn—(With poor grace.) Aw, well, let it go.
Molly—(Sitting at back of table, Quinn and Mrs. Quinn at either side.) When I settled up everything, after—after his death, I planned to go back to my old job. I went to the office and saw Mr. Bowen, and he said the place was still open for me.
Mrs. Quinn—(Admiringly.) I don't wonder he's glad to get ye back. There ain't many stenographers clever as you are Molly.
Quinn—Be quiet mother, and let the girl talk.
Molly—I knew if I could work, and bring good wages into the house, father could afford to stay out on strike until the men had won.
Quinn—Molly!
Molly—Ididplan for that father, I did plan for that, and now—
Mrs. Quinn—Well, go on, go on.
Molly—To-night at the Lester Hospital when they fixed my arm, the doctor said I couldn't use it before a month.
Mrs. Quinn—What happened to it? How did ye hurt it?
Molly—I did the wrong thing, and I guess I deserve what I got, but I was dog tired and the walk here is endless. I took a car at the ferry, everything went all right till we got to Fourth andMarion Streets—
Quinn—(Startled.) Fourth and Marion!
Molly—There was a crowd of strikers there, and one of them threw a brick into the car, and it struck my arm at the elbow. Crushed it pretty badly, I guess.
Quinn—My Gawd!
Molly—(Misunderstanding his emotion.) I'm not going to live on you, father. I know you and mother are hard enough pushed as it is.
Mrs. Quinn—What's ours is yours now. Ye'll stay here with us.
Quinn—(Dazed.) I wonder can I get a job at Newton's? They needed men last week.
Molly—Father, he ... left insurance, and we can use that until you start again, or until I'm able to go back to the office.
Quinn—The strike's a mistake, I'm thinkin'. I'll go to the barn to-morrow and take me car out, if the boys kill me for it.
Mrs. Quinn—(Quickly, and unconsciously imitating Mrs. Martin's imitation of the walking delegate.) Ye'll do no such thing. The strike's on till it's settled. Yer fightin' fer a principle, and ye'll not give in till ye win. This is not a war for us only, but for our children.They'llbe saved a fight fer their rights if we conquer now. We'll go at the company in the way that that walking delegate says. (As she becomes conscious she is quoting the quoted delegate.) The walking delegate? Well, he's alright, we'll do things his way, and we'll win.
Molly—Of course we'll win. Public sympathy is with the men this time.
Quinn—Well, it won't be fer long, if the men see red, and go about bustin' up perfectly good arms of innocent bystanders. Me mind's made up, violence must stop.
Mrs. Quinn—And mine's made up too, the strike must be won.
(Quinn goes to wail rack, and takes down hat and coat.)
What are ye doin' with yer coat?
Quinn—I'll go and have a talk with the boys. I've some power with them. Violence must stop. I'll try to make them listen to reason, and if they won't, I guess I'm good for a job at Newton's.
(As he leaves room he is heard muttering.) Violence must stop!
Molly—I never knew father so set against a fight. What's he want to work in a coal yard for?
Mrs. Quinn—Never fear, he won't work in a coal yard. Ye see Molly he's awful mad at the man who smashed yer arm. It makes him wild to think a fellow is free to go about harmin' innocent people, just because he thinks he sees red.
Molly—I hope he never finds the man.
Mrs. Quinn—D'ye know, I think he has a hunch who did it. Oh, he won't hurt him! Father's been gettin' close to some hard home facts this day, and a good walk in the fresh night air will help him to digest them.
(As curtain descends.) I'm so sorry about yer poor arm. Tell me, does it hurt you much?—etc.
CURTAIN
MURDERING SELINA
Cast
Time—The Present.
Place—A Little Café in the Park, Managed by Miss Brown.
Murdering Selina
Scene—Interior of a frame restaurant in the park. At the left side, running almost the entire width of the room, is the counter at which one may buy soft-drinks, peanuts, pop-corn, newspapers, etc. A talking machine and telephone are on counter. Against the wall, at centre back, is a screen, behind it is a door to another room. At the right side, back, a table and couple of chairs. Small table and two chairs near front of stage, left. When curtain rises, Miss Brown and The Boy are discovered. Miss Brown is a red haired, good-hearted, sharp tongued old maid of uncertain years; positive in her opinions, quick in bodily action—giving one the impression of great nervous energy. The Boy is the typical roguish, rather fresh, "newsy" of fifteen, or thereabout.
A fox trot is being played on the victrola, and The Boy is teaching the steps to Miss Brown, whom he is pulling around with spirited good-nature.
Boy—(In time with music.)Slow, slow, slow, slow, now fast, fast, fast, fast, fast, fastie, fastie, fast.
Miss Brown—Oh, wait until I get me breath.
Boy—You gotta dance without it, see?
Miss Brown—How can I dance with me wind all gone? Let go of me while I rest.
Boy—Aw, come on, and be a sport. All the girls is doin' the fox trot.
Miss Brown—(Pathetically.) My heavens, Iain't no girl.
Boy—Yer learnin' it fine. I bet if ye had a couple lessons ye'd put it all over that bunch at the pavilion.
Miss Brown—(Trying to stop.) Let go of me, will you?
Boy—Slow, slow, slow,—
Miss Brown—Ye young snipe, can't ye see I'm ready to drop?
Boy—Aw, stop coddlin' yerself! Yer good for a mile yet.
Miss Brown—(Pulling herself free.) You run and get the papers. It's almost dark, and there ain't one here yet.
Boy—(At victrola.) Well, I'm goin,' ain't I?
Miss Brown—(Out of breath.) Quit foolin' with that machine, and go get yer papers.
Boy—I won't be three minutes, and then we can try it again.
Miss Brown—I think I've had enough. It ain't no game for an old hen.
(Boy puts on sweater and cap.)
Miss Brown—Is it four slow, and four fast?
Boy—No, that ain't right. Four slow, eight fast, then two turnin' steps. See? (Shows steps, then exits.)
Miss Brown—(Meditatively.) If I get goin' I suppose I'll be dotty, like the rest. This dance craze is certainly worse than hittin' up the booze. They say that Lizzie Smith, the hussy, roped that poor misguided Jones boy into marrying her with her dancing, though heaven knows I never saw nothin' in her grace or beauty. Oh, for ten years of mymisspent youth. If I'd only learned the blamed thing before I lost my figure! (Puts record on machine, and dances hesitatingly, counting "one, two, three, four," etc. Bart, much dishevelled rushes into room. He is well dressed, but mussy looking, as if he had slept on a park bench for a night or two, and had not had recent acquaintance with hair or clothes brush. He bumps against the peanuts on the edge of the counter, and scatters them all over the floor.)
Miss Brown—Can't ye see where yer goin'?
Bart—(Fumbling in pocket.) Here. Sorry.
Miss Brown—A dollar! Ye never can tell a millionaire by looks these days.
Bart—(Sinking into chair.) Am I doomed to blight everything I touch?
Miss Brown—Are ye sick, mister? Can I help ye?
Bart—Get out, get out, let me alone, and stop that machine!
Miss Brown—(Commiseratingly.) Poor fellow! (Stops machine.) He's got the Willies.
Bart—Don't talk to me, for Heaven's sake; I can't stand it!
Miss Brown—(Sarcastically.) Oh, I was just communin' with me other nuts.
(She stoops to gather up the peanuts, but catches a glimpse of Bart's side face, and sits on floor, looking at him intently.)
To think of that profile bein' wasted on a man! It's terrible the way good looks is chucked around where they ain't needed!
(Boy enters with an armful of newspapers. Kingis close behind him. Bart rushes to King, knocking against the Boy as he does so, and sending the papers flying.)
Boy—Ye big stiff, what ye doin'?
Bart—King, I thought you'd never come!
Boy—Look at me papers, will ye?
Bart—(Impatiently.) Oh, shut up!
(Boy, grumbling and muttering to himself, helps Miss Brown pick up the peanuts and papers.)
King—(With great displeasure.) This is a nice out of the way place to bring a man to. What's wrong with you anyway? Drunk?
Bart—(Grimly.) I haven't been sober for three days.
King—Don't boast about it.
Bart—Boast, good heavens!
King—What do you think a newspaper is, a day nursery? Here's Billy Sunday in town, the war, the Mexican situation, everything at boiling point; the Gazette short of men, and you off on a three days' jag! I've a good mind to fire you.
Bart—(Miserably.) I'm up against it, King, don't rub it in. I don't know which way to turn.
Boy—(To Miss Brown, as they seat themselves behind counter.) I wish those ginks would clear out, so we could trot again.
Miss Brown—They'll beat it to a free lunch counter soon.
(She gets the Boy to hold a skein of worsted, which she unwinds and rolls into a ball. During the conversation between Bart and King, Miss Brown and the Boy now and then glance at them with a show of irritation, Miss Brown because theyare not buying any of her wares, and also because she cannot hear enough of their talk to make sense of it.)
King—What have you done, a second story job?
Bart—(With much humility, and some pride.) I've broken a girl's heart.
King—(Utterly disgusted.) Oh, hell!
Bart—I tell you, I've broken a girl's heart, and ruined her life.
King—Rubbish! Sober up, and go back to work.
Bart—I can't. She has threatened to do something desperate. There will be a scandal.
King—Forget it!
Bart—I wish I could, but suppose she shoots herself, or takes poison?
King—That sounds pleasant.
Bart—I didn't know she loved me, I protest I didn't.
King—Cut out the heroics.
Bart—She's mad about me, and I didn't understand till too late.
King—(Firmly.) Too late! You scuttle back to town, get a license, and marry her.
Bart—I came to the city to earn money to marry a girl back home, and I'll marry her, or no one.
King—Winning a girl's love, and throwing her over, is cheap sport. I'm disappointed in you, Bart. I didn't know you were that kind of a chap.
Bart—I'm not that kind. It's all a horrible mistake. She misunderstood my—my attentions. I was just nice and friendly to her, and she, well she—
King—That's right, put the blame on her.
Bart—(Hotly.) Well, I'm not going to blame myself. If women see fit to fall in love with me, it's not my fault.
King—You conceited pup!
Bart—I don't care. I've suffered enough these last three days, and I've just about gone to pieces. It's not my fault, I don't care what you say, it's not my fault.
King—Every cad says it's not his fault.
Miss Brown—(To Boy.) What in the name of common sense are they gassin' about?
Boy—Aw, they're holdin' hands, I guess.
Bart—(To King.) I asked you here for advice, not abuse.
King—(Shortly.) You have my advice, marry her.
Bart—And I tell you I won't. I don't love her, and I do love Lucy.
King—Lucy. The girl up home, I suppose?
Bart—Yes.
King—What will she think of this mess?
Bart—She need never know that Selina existed.
King—(Starting.) Selina!
Bart—That's her name.
King—Selina, what a coincidence!
Bart—I thought you'd understand, and help me out.
King—Tell me, I'll try to understand.
Miss Brown—(To Boy.) My Gawd, ain't they never goin'?
Boy—Talk about yer cheap skates!
Bart—(To King.) I've been kind of lonely down here in the city, and she was a regular oasis inthe desert. I took her to a good many first nights, and the opera pretty nearly every week, and she—
King—(Gently ironical.) Gazette passes, I presume?
Bart—You don't think I could pay for them out of my salary, do you? I've not had a cent from father since I left home.... She always gets herself up well, and wears good-looking clothes, and I felt proud to take her around. Besides, she's older than I am, and I thought I was safe.
King—I had no idea you were so irresistible.
Miss Brown—(To Boy.) It's time to give them the acid test. (She turns a sign advertising Coca Cola, with its face to the wall. On the back is printed in large letters, "This ain't no free rest room. Buy something, or get out." King turns around, glances at the sign casually, then gives his attention to Bart.)
Boy—Hully gee! The big boob can't read!
Miss Brown—What's a poor girl to do now?
Bart—(To King.) Why, I never even kissed her, although once or twice, I think she wanted me to.
King—With such a platonic background, how did you manage to break her heart?
Bart—That's the queer part. Tuesday night after Tosca, we had a little supper at her apartments. We were talking about friendship, and I told her what a bully little pal she had been, and how I'd miss our good times when I went home and married Lucy.
King—You mentioned Lucy?
Bart—Why shouldn't I?
King—Ishould call it a strategic error.
Bart—I suppose it was a mistake.
King—It's rank idiocy, my boy, to tell one woman you love another.
Bart—It seemed to break her all up. She declared I'd led her to believe I was going to marryher, that she had given her heart unreservedly to me—
King—(Quickly.) She had "given her heart unreservedly to you?" Did she use those words?
Bart—I'm not apt to forget them, especially as she repeated everything half a dozen times. She made me feel as if I'd deserted her at the altar. I tell you, I never went through such an awful hour in my life.
King—Didn't you explain to her?
Bart—Explain to a weeping woman? She was lost in an ocean of tears, I'd have had to use a foghorn. I got so rattled I began to cry myself. Then she flung herself in my arms, and said if I jilted her (jilted her, mind you!) she'd blow her brains out. And she'll do it, too, she'll do it. That's what I'm afraid of. If Selina kills herself for love of me, it's all up with Lucy; she'll never marry me.
King—Does anyone know of this scene?
Bart—Her maid came in while she was sobbing in my arms. I tried to shake her off, but she clung like a leech.
King—Her maid, that's bad.
Bart—(Moodily.) I know it's bad.
King—Are you sure you never made her think you loved her?
Bart—I protest on my word of honor, I nevereven hinted at love.
Boy—(To Miss Brown, as he yawns over newspaper.) There's nothin' worth readin' except this blame suicide.
Miss Brown—(Looking up from her newspaper.) It certainly gets my goat the way some fool women go dippy over men.
(King glances at Miss Brown suddenly, as she raises her voice during her last remark, then turns to Bart.)
King—Have you seen the papers?
Bart—I've been afraid to look at them for fear of reading something about her.
King—(Turning to counter.) Bring me a Gazette, boy. (Hands coin.) No change. Go along.
Boy—(Impudently.) The woods is full of 'em.
King—(Looking at paper.) I guess you're in for it, Bart.
Bart—(In a stifled voice.) What—what is it?
King—This suicide. I never connected it with you. The body of an unknown woman was found at the Riverton dam this afternoon. She was about thirty-eight years old, five feet five, had light brown hair—does that fit your Selina?
Bart—I don't think Selina was more than five feet three or four, and she can't be thirty. She told me herself she was only twenty-six. (Puts out a shaking hand for the paper.) Let me see.
King—(Holding paper.) The newspaper description may not be accurate Bart, but all her underclothing was marked with initials. That is the clue the police are working on.
(Hands paper to Bart, pointing out the place.)
Miss Brown—(Reading her newspaper.) Poor soft soul, it's certainly awful.
Bart—(Clutching his head.) Great heavens! She left a note. "I did it for love,hewill understand. S. W." She's dead, she's dead, there's blood on my hands.
King—Pull yourself together. Don't make a scene here.
Bart—I've killed her just as surely as if I'd thrown her into the water myself. I'm a murderer, that's what I am. I've murdered Selina!
King—Sit down, and listen to me.
Bart—Murderer, Selina's murderer!
King—Sit down! We must work this out together quietly.
Bart—(Bitterly.) Be quiet with a murder on my conscience.
Miss Brown—(To Boy, folding up her newspaper.) Well I ain't seen the man, I'd kill myself for.
King—(To Bart.) I'm going to tell you something no one in all the world knows except me, and a poor heart broken old woman in New Hampshire.
Bart—Don't talk to me. I'm a murderer.
King—(Whispering.) So am I!
Bart—(Jumping.) What!
King—That's what I want to tell you about.
Bart—You too!
King—Eight years ago, I trifled with a woman, just as you have done. I was more to blame than you, for I made her think I loved her. She lovedme, there was no doubt about that, but I thought she was after my money, and that of course, endedeverything. I quarrelled with her, and went about my business. She left the city. A month later I received a letter from her mother. She told me her daughter had died in her arms of a broken heart. Her last words were, "I have given my heart unreservedly to him." My name was the last she ever breathed. And the poor old lady was left alone and penniless. I would have gone to her at once, but she could not bear the shock of seeing her daughter's murderer.
Bart—What a coincidence!
King—It does not end there, for she was called Selina!
Bart—(Amazed.) Selina!
King—A tragic coincidence.
Bart—Both of us murderers!
King—Murderers, yes, we have murdered our Selinas.
Miss Brown—(To Boy.) Merciful heavens, they've killed someone! (Takes down telephone, and calls.) Main 674 ... 674 I said. Say operator, you get me Main 674 will ye? Oh, stop polishing yer nails, you ain't no society dame.... Is this 674? Send a cop quick to Miss Brown's restaurant. Someone's been murdered, and the men who done it ... here in my restaurant. I ain't stringin' ye ... right away. I don't like bein' alone with them. (Hangs receiver up, and watches Bart and King closely.)
Bart—(To King.) What did you do?
King—What could I do? From the day of her death until now, I've kept her mother. It's the only reparation I can make, and I have done it for eightyears.
Bart—(Tragically.) My Selina was alone in the world. With her death I have blotted out an entire family.
King—(Humbly.) We possibly can't help being handsome and fascinating, Bart.
Bart—But we must learn to be careful with women, and not lead them on.
Miss Brown—(To Boy.) Now you sit tight, and if they come over here, brain them with a soda water bottle.... (Looks out of doorway.)
Boy—(Dancing with excitement and pleasure.) Ain't this some picnic!
King—(To Bart.) I have never dared look at a woman since then.
Bart—I can't imagine Lucy killing herself for me. She will never love me as Selina did.
King—(Sighing.) Selina.
Bart—Mine?
King—Mine.
(Enter a plain clothes Officer, and a Policeman, breathlessly.)
Officer—(To Miss Brown.) Now, which one of them done it?
Miss Brown—It's that young one, I think. You could spot his ugly mug for a crook anywhere.
(Officer goes up to King, and turns him around suddenly, while the Policeman does the same to Bart.)
King—What do you want?
Officer—(Slipping handcuffs on.) Come along peaceful.
(Policeman handcuffs Bart.)
Bart—Stop that! What are you doing?
Officer—Keepin' you safe. The lady just phoned to headquarters what you've been doin'.
Bart—(Angrily, to Miss Brown.) I gave you a dollar, what more do you want?
Officer—Hush money won't go, boss.
King—Take these things off, or I'll brain you.
(The Boy dances around the stage in glee, getting into everyone's way.)
Boy—Keep the nippers on 'em, Casey, or they'll muss up the shop!
Officer—I'm running no risks with murderers.
Bart and King—Murderers! (they collapse. King drops his cane, and Miss Brown makes a dive for it, and shakes it at him.)
Miss Brown—I heard ye, ye bloodthirsty thug.
King—(To Officer.) Now see here, don't be a fool. I'm George King, editor of the Gazette—
Officer—Can it, boss, everything you say will be used against you at the trial.
Bart—(Despairingly.) It only needed this!
King—Is Lieut. Mason in the guard house?
Officer—Maybe he is, maybe he ain't. I ain't sayin'.
King—Take us to him at once. He'll identify us. You can't run men in like this, on a pink headed old maid's say so. Where's your warrant?
Officer—The warrant's comin'. We hadn't time to wait for it, while you skinned out.
King—Take us to Lieut. Mason at once.
Officer—Well, come along, and none of your funny tricks, or I'll wing you.
(Takes out revolver.) You too, Miss Brown,the chief'll want your testimony.
Miss Brown—(To Boy.) Watch the Café, while I'm gone, and don't you give nobody nothin'.
(Exeunt Bart, King, Miss Brown, Officer and Policeman. Boy puts record on machine, and before starting it, says, "Gee, life's great!" then dances to the music, stopping when Selina and Gentleman, in evening attire, appear at the door.)
Gentleman—It's too bad the tire's punctured.
Selina—(Graciously.) I really don't mind it in the least.
Gentleman—Really?
Selina—Really.
Gentleman—A car's such a rotten nuisance. Always something wrong with it; much rather ride in a hack.
Selina—(Coquettishly.) Even a hack would have no terrors with you, though I confess, I prefer the machine.
Gentleman—We'll be late for dinner, too. It will take Thompson half an hour to put on that tire.
Selina—Then let's sit here, look at the moon, and talk.
Gentleman—About the moon?
Selina—Oh dear no,—about you and me.
Gentleman—About you, you're such a ripping sort. Maybe I can get something to drink while we wait.
Selina—Do, I'm chilled to the bone.
Gentleman—Boy, let us have two cups of fresh hot coffee.
Boy—You gotta wait.
Gentleman—Wait, why?
Boy—The lady's out. I can't make cawfee. I'm just mindin' the shop.
Gentleman—You get us something to drink.
Boy—Aw, this is a temperance joint.
(Grins impudently at the Gentleman, who stares at him with great disdain for an instant, then turns to Selina.)
Gentleman—Botheration! I suppose we might as well stay out of the cold until Thompson is ready.
Selina—There's a draft along there. Don't sit too near the wall.
Gentleman—I'll fix the draft with this screen. (Places screen across one corner of room.) That will keep that fresh kid from seeing us, too.
Selina—Why don't you want the boy to see? What are you going to do?
Gentleman—Well, for one thing, kiss you, if I get the chance.
Selina—(Severely.) I think you are forgetting yourself.
Gentleman—(Confusedly.) I beg your pardon. My tongue slipped. I wanted to ask you to, to—I'll take a look at Thompson.
(Exit Gentleman. Boy makes a smacking noise with his lips.)
Boy—Um, honey!
Selina—(Behind screen, exultingly.) It'll be easy enough to work him. He's ready to drop into my hand now, like a ripe plum. Lord, what fools men are!
(Boy puts on record, and starts machine. Selina listens a moment, then picks up her skirt, and does afew steps behind screen. Bart and King enter.)
King—Stop that infernal racket.
Boy—Big stiff. (Does not stop machine.)
King—Where's my cane?
Boy—You gotta wait till Miss Brown comes back.
King—You get my cane.
Boy—(Picking cane up from counter, and hiding it behind him.) I don't know where she put it. You gotta wait, see?
King—(To Bart.) I'd like to jump that cop. Nice fix for us if Mason hadn't been there.
Boy—(Stopping machine.) Say, didn't you do it? What did they let you come back for?
King—Of course we didn't do it.
Bart—(To King.) And yet weareguilty of murder.
King—Luckily for us, the law won't see it that way.... I'll double my allowance to her mother.
Bart—And I'll put flowers every week on my Selina's grave.
King—We are bound together by ties of death. We must be brave, and face the world serenely.
Bart—(Clasping King's hand.) And no one must know.
Selina—(Peeping around screen.) George King and Bart! My gosh, what a pickle! (She hurriedly enters the little room back of the screen. Bart and King just catch a glimpse of her as she disappears.)
King—Sh!
Bart—Great heavens, an apparition!
King—She has come to haunt me.
Bart—I shall throw myself at her ghostly feet, and crave pardon.
Bart and King—(With outstretched hands.) Selina!
King—(Tragically.) That was the spirit of the Selina whom my coldness killed.
Bart—It was the spirit of my Selina, who drowned herself for love of me.
King—How terrible is the vengeance of heaven! It makes the one woman haunt us both.
Bart—I shall go mad now.
King—Bart, I feel my reason tottering.
(They sit at little table, heads on hands, backs to the entrance door. Gentleman enters, and goes behind screen.)
Gentleman—It will take about ten minutes more—hello, where have you gone?
Selina—(Peeping from room off stage.) Sh!
Gentleman—Why, what's the mystery?
Selina—Did you see two men in there, as you came in?
Gentleman—Didn't notice, but I'll take a look.
(Bart and King hide behind counter when Gentleman appears.)
Gentleman—Not a soul but the boy. (Returns to Selina, who comes into the room, but remains behind screen. Bart and King stay behind counter, but listen intently to Selina and Gentleman.)
King—Something queer about this.
Selina—(To Gentleman.) Flatterer!
Gentleman—I remember the first time I sawyou at the opera. By the way, who's that chap you always go with?
Selina—(Lightly.) Oh, that!
Bart—Her voice!
Gentleman—He interests me. Seems very sweet on you.
Selina—Think so?
Gentleman—I have eyes.
Selina—He's just a boy.
Gentleman—It's these young cubs who always run off with the prizes. Are you in love with him?
Selina—I do not think you have any right to question me.
Gentleman—I beg your pardon for seeming impertinent. I merely ask, so I may know where I stand.
Selina—Do you thinkheis the type of man I could love? Frankly, he bores me to death.
Bart—Great fish!
Gentleman—I don't think you bore him.
Selina—(Sadly.) Poor boy!
Gentleman—He's gone on you, isn't he?
Selina—(Pleadingly.) Please don't think me a heartless coquette. He's alone here in the city. I was just nice and friendly to him, and the poor fellow's fallen desperately in love with me.
Gentleman—(Gallantly.) I don't blame him.
Selina—That's quite sweet of you, but it's made me very unhappy. He was engaged to a girl up the state, and I'm afraid she will blame me. Women are so cruel in their judgments.
Gentleman—(Soothingly.) Well if you don't love him—
Selina—How can I? Yet I'm worried sick, for he has threatened to kill himself if I don't marry him.
Bart—(Springing up hysterically.) Liar!
King—(With deep conviction.) She's no ghost.
Selina—(To Gentleman.) Do you wonder I am unhappy?
Gentleman—You certainly couldn't throw yourself away on a young puppy like him.
Bart—(Clenching fists.) Oh!
King—Sit down!
Selina—He hasn't been at his office since I refused him. I'm afraid he's done something desperate.
Gentleman—Don't worry about him. What you want is a man with position and wealth. Now, ifIshould say I loved you, and wanted to marry you?
Selina—(Quietly.) But you have not.
Gentleman—(With an embarrassed laugh.) I'm trying to hard enough.
Selina—Shall I say, "this is so sudden?"
Gentleman—Heavens, no, not that stuff! Say "yes."
Selina—But I'm not used to this sort of proposal.
Gentleman—I don't mind being romantic, I'll get down on my knees, if you like.
Selina—Don't don't, the floor's dirty.
Gentleman—Well then, say "yes."
Selina—But you've known me scarcely two weeks.
Gentleman—And loved you the first time Isaw you.
Selina—I wish I'd known it.
Bart—(Heartily.) So do I.
Gentleman—I'm telling you now, isn't that enough?
Selina—I've no family, no money save a small allowance from my mother's estate. I'm really a very poor girl.
Gentleman—Don't worry about that, I've money enough for two.
Selina—The little income I get barely keeps me, but I've managed to live on it for eight years.
King—(Grimly.) You've got your last check from me, mother dear!
Gentleman—Poor little woman, what a struggle you must have had to keep up appearances. (Horn blows outside.) Come, there's Thompson. We can announce our engagement at the dinner.
(The Gentleman helps Selina into her wraps, while Bart and King again hide behind counter. Miss Brown enters. She is in a fine rage.)
Miss Brown—The way law's handed out in this town's a crime, a howlin' crime!
Boy—What's eatin' ye now?
Miss Brown—Lieut. Mason let them murderers off. He's a fool, that's what he is, a soft pie-eyed fool!
Boy—Aw, forget it!
Miss Brown—Don't tell me to forget it, or I'll slap your face for ye, ye rat.
(Chases Boy behind counter, and bumps into King.) Holy cats!
King—(In a whisper of suppressed rage.)Woman, give me my cane.
Miss Brown—(Goes to door and shrieks.) Police, police!
(Selina and Gentleman are about to leave, but Selina pulls Gentleman behind screen again.)
Selina—(To Gentleman.) Come back!
Bart—What's she going to do now?
Boy—Better leave her be, she's got her dander up.
(Enter Officer.)
Officer—What do ye want now, Miss Brown?
Miss Brown—Call 'em innocent, if you like, but I got a hunch they're crooks, and I want you to clear them out of my café, see?
Officer—You got me in wrong once. I ain't huntin' trouble.
Selina—(To Gentleman, who urges her forward.) No, no, stay here till they go.
King—I came back for my cane, and I'm not going to leave without it.
(Horn blows again.)
Gentleman—Hang it all, we'll be dreadfully late.
Selina—(In an ecstasy of fear.) No, no, stay here till they go. (Leans against screen, which shakes, and almost falls over.)
Miss Brown—What's back of that screen? I saw it move!
(Goes toward screen. Bart and King make a bolt for the door, and Officer stops them.)
Miss Brown—(Discovering Selina and Gentleman.) Pipe these two dolls, will ye?
(Selina draws scarf over face, and hurries towarddoor.)
Officer—(Detaining her.) Not so fast please, I want to see you first.
Gentleman—We're all right officer, just waiting here out of the cold, while my car was being—
Officer—(With easy familiarity to Selina.) Hello kid, where did you hook the gown?
Gentleman—Officer!
Officer—Easy, boy, easy.
Selina—Let me pass, you have no right to detain me.
Gentleman—This is an outrage. I'll report you.
Officer—(To Selina.) Some style to you now, kid. Who you workin'? Must have money to rig you out like that!
Selina—Let me pass, I tell you, let me pass!
Officer—You're a wonder, Lena. Your own mother wouldn't know you.
Bart—My gosh!
Gentleman—How dare you insult this lady?
Officer—Say, what are you buttin' in for? Who are you anyway? What's it matter to you?
Gentleman—Everything. I'll not let you bulldoze a lady who's going to be my wife.
Officer—She's not going to be your wife while I'm alive, Clarence.
Gentleman—What do you mean?
Officer—I don't believe in divorce, and—
Selina—(In suppressed rage.) Keep quiet, will you!
Officer—(Coolly.) And she happens to bemywife.
(General consternation.)
Gentleman—Good heavens!
Bart—Great fish!
King—I'll be darned!
Miss Brown—They're all dotty. The whole fool ranch is dotty.
Gentleman—(Tensely, to Selina.) Is this true, tell me, is this true?
Selina—(Shrugging shoulders.) Oh, what's the use!
Officer—Sure, it ain't any use, Lena, but if you're havin' a good time, go to it. Gawd knows I don't want any more of ye.
(Horn blows again.)
Gentleman—I must be going.
Selina—Would you mind dropping me at my apartments?
Gentleman—(Coldly.) Certainly not, if you wish.
(Exeunt Selina and Gentleman. Bart, King and Officer bow to her with mock courtesy as she passes them.)
Officer—She's got her nerve, all right. Knew I picked a pippin' when I married her. She'll cook up some story to hoodwink him before they get to her apartments. (Stands in doorway, meditatively.)
King—Died in her mother's arms! And I've been keeping the fictitious old lady eight years.
Bart—I'll put no flowers on her grave, the siren.
King—She worked us all very nicely, didn't she?
Bart—(Suddenly.) King, our hands are bloodless. We have not murdered Selina!
(King and Bart fall into one another's arms, overcome with emotion. Miss Brown watches them a moment in supreme disgust.)
Miss Brown—(To Boy.) Put on a fox trot, Jimmie, maybe it'll bring them to, the poor prunes!
(Boy puts on record.)
(CURTAIN)
NOTES
The Hand of the Prophetwas written February, 1913. It was first performed March 8, 1913, at Artsman's Hall, Rose Valley, Pennsylvania.
The three songs used are from "A Lover in Damascus," words by Charles Hanson Towne, music by Amy Woodforde-Finden. In the order of their singing in the play, they are "Far Across the Desert Sands," "How Many a Lonely Caravan," and "If in the Great Bazaars." The songs are published by Boosey & Co.
The first dance is from Saint Saens' "Samson and Delilah." Melody is included in this volume. The second dance is the "Dance Arabe" from Tchaikovski's Casse-Noisette (Nut-cracker) Suite. The melody of the third dance is included in this volume.
Children of Granadawas written March, 1914. It was first performed May 2, 1914, at Artsman's Hall, Rose Valley, Pennsylvania.
Music of Muezzin's Call to Prayer included in this volume.
The Turtle Dovewas written February, 1915. It was first performed April 6, 1915, at theMasque of Primitive Peoples, Horticultural Hall, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Music of the Chinese Song is included in this volume.
This Youth—Gentlemen!was written February, 1909. It was published inThe Butterfly Quarterly, Winter 1908-1909.
The Strikerwas written January, 1915. It was first performed March 5, 1915, at Artsman'sHall, Rose Valley, Pennsylvania.
Murdering Selinawas written January, 1915. It was first performed March 5, 1915, at Artsman's Hall, Rose Valley, Pennsylvania.