# Strange Interlude/Act 1

Layout 2
FIRST PART
ACT ONE
STRANGE INTERLUDE
ACT ONE
Scene: The library of Professor Leeds’ home in a small university town in New England. This room is at the front part of his house with windows opening on the strip of lawn between the house and the quiet residential street. It is a small room with a low ceiling. The furniture has been selected with a love for old New England pieces. The walls are lined almost to the ceiling with glassed-in bookshelves. These are packed with books, principally editions, many of them old and rare, of the ancient classics in the original Greek and Latin, of the later classics in French and German and Italian, of all the English authors who wrote while s was still like an f and a few since then, the most modern probably being Thackeray. The atmosphere of the room is that of a cosy, cultured retreat, sedulously built as a sanctuary where, secure with the culture of the past at his back, a fugitive from reality can view the present safely from a distance, as a superior with condescending disdain, pity, and even amusement.
There is a fair-sized table, a heavy armchair, a rocker, and an old bench made comfortable with cushions. The table, with the Professor’s armchair at its left, is arranged toward the left of the room, the rocker is at center, the bench at right.
​There is one entrance, a door in the right wall, rear.
It is late afternoon of a day in August. Sunshine, cooled and dimmed in the shade of trees, fills the room with a soothing light.
The sound of a Maid’s Voice—a middle-aged woman—explaining familiarly but respectfully from the right, and Marsden enters. He is a tall thin man of thirty-five, meticulously well-dressed in tweeds of distinctly English tailoring, his appearance that of an Anglicized New England gentleman. His face is too long for its width, his nose is high and narrow, his forehead broad, his mild blue eyes those of a dreamy self-analyst, his thin lips ironical and a bit sad. There is an indefinable feminine quality about him, but it is nothing apparent in either appearance or act. His manner is cool and poised. He speaks with a careful ease as one who listens to his own conversation. He has long fragile hands, and the stoop to his shoulders of a man weak muscularly, who has never liked athletics and has always been regarded as of delicate constitution. The main point about his personality is a quiet charm, a quality of appealing, inquisitive friendliness, always willing to listen, eager to sympathize, to like and to be liked.
Marsden
[Standing just inside the door, his tall, stooped figure leaning back against the books—nodding back at the maid and smiling kindly]
I’ll wait in here, Mary.
[His eyes follow her for a second, then return to gaze around the room slowly with an appreciative relish for ​the familiar significance of the books. He smiles affectionately and his amused voice recites the words with a rhetorical resonance]
Sanctum Sanctorum!
[His voice takes on a monotonous musing quality, his eyes stare idly at his drifting thoughts]
How perfectly the Professor’s unique haven! . . .
[He smiles]
Primly classical . . . when New Englander meets Greek! . . .
[Looking at the books now]
He hasn’t added one book in years . . . how old was I when I first came here? . . . six . . . with my father . . . father . . . how dim his face has grown! . . . he wanted to speak to me just before he died . . . the hospital . . . smell of iodoform in the cool halls . . . hot summer . . . I bent down . . . his voice had withdrawn so far away . . . I couldn’t understand him . . . what son can ever understand? . . . always too near, too soon, too distant or too late! . . .
[His face has become sad with a memory of the bewildered suffering of the adolescent boy he had been at the time of his father’s death. Then he shakes his head, flinging off his thoughts, and makes himself walk about the room]
What memories on such a smiling afternoon! . . . this pleasant old town after three months . . . I won’t go to Europe again . . . couldn’t write a line there . . . how answer the fierce question of all those dead and maimed? . . . too big a job for me! . . .
[He sighs—then self-mockingly]
But back here . . . it is the interlude that gently questions . . . in this town dozing . . . decorous bodies moving with circumspection through the afternoons . . . their habits affectionately chronicled . . . an excuse for weav​ing amusing words . . . my novels . . . not of cosmic importance, hardly . . .
[Then self -reassuringly]
but there is a public to cherish them, evidently . . . and I can write! . . . more than one can say of these modern sex-yahoos! . . . I must start work tomorrow . . . I’d like to use the Professor in a novel sometime . . . and his wife . . . seems impossible she’s been dead six years . . . so aggressively his wife! . . . poor Professor! now it’s Nina who bosses him . . . but that’s different . . . she has bossed me, too, ever since she was a baby . . . she’s a woman now . . . known love and death . . . Gordon brought down in flames . . . two days before the armistice . . . what fiendish irony! . . . his wonderful athlete’s body . . . her lover . . . charred bones in a cage of twisted steel . . . no wonder she broke down . . . Mother said she’s become quite queer lately . . . Mother seemed jealous of my concern . . . why have I never fallen in love with Nina? . . . could I? . . . that way . . . used to dance her on my knee . . . sit her on my lap . . . even now she’d never think anything about it . . . but sometimes the scent of her hair and skin . . . like a dreamy drug . . . dreamy! . . . there’s the rub! . . . all dreams with me! . . . my sex life among the phantoms! . . .
[He grins torturedly]
Why? . . . oh, this digging in gets nowhere . . . to the devil with sex! . . . our impotent pose of today to beat the loud drum on fornication! . . . boasters . . . eunuchs parading with the phallus! . . . giving themselves away . . . whom do they fool? . . . not even themselves ! . . .
[His face suddenly full of an intense pain and disgust]
Ugh! . . . always that memory! . . . why can’t I ever forget? . . . as sickeningly clear as if it were yes​terday . . . prep school . . . Easter vacation . . . Fatty Boggs and Jack Frazer . . . that house of cheap vice . . . one dollar! . . . why did I go? . . . Jack, the dead game sport . . . how I admired him! . . . afraid of his taunts . . . he pointed to the Italian girl . . . “Take her!” . . . daring me . . . I went . . . miserably frightened . . . what a pig she was! . . . pretty vicious face under caked powder and rouge . . . surly and contemptuous . . . lumpy body . . . short legs and thick ankles . . . slums of Naples . . . “What you gawkin’ about? Git a move on, kid” . . . kid! . . . I was only a kid ! . . . sixteen . . . test of manhood . . . ashamed to face Jack again unless . . . fool! . . . I might have lied to him! . . . but I honestly thought that wench would feel humiliated if I . . . oh, stupid kid! . . . back at the hotel I waited till they were asleep . . . then sobbed . . . thinking of Mother . . . feeling I had denied her . . . and myself . . . forever! . . .
[Mocking bitterly]
“Nothing half so sweet in life as love’s young dream,” what? . . .
[He gets to his feet impatiently]
Why does my mind always have to dwell on that? . . . too silly . . . no importance really . . . an incident such as any boy of my age . . .
[He hears someone coming quickly from the right and turns expectantly. Professor Leeds enters, a pleased relieved expression fighting the flurried worry on his face. He is a small, slender man of fifty-five, his hair gray, the top of his head bald. His face, prepossessing in spite of its too-small, over-refined features, is that of a retiring, studious nature. He has intelligent eyes and a smile that can be ironical. Temperamentally timid, his defense is an assumption of his complacent, superior manner of the classroom toward the world at large. This defense is ​strengthened by a natural tendency toward a prim provincialism where practical present-day considerations are concerned (though he is most liberal—even radical—in his tolerant understanding of the manners and morals of Greece and Imperial Rome!). This classroom poise of his, however, he cannot quite carry off outside the classroom. There is an unconvincing quality about it that leaves his larger audience—and particularly the Professor himself—subtly embarrassed. As Marsden is one of his old students, whom, in addition, he has known from childhood, he is perfectly at ease with him]
Marsden
[Holding out his hand—with unmistakable liking]
Here I am again, Professor!
Professor Leeds
[Shaking his hand and patting him on the back—with genuine affection]
So glad to see you, Charlie! A surprise, too! We didn’t expect you back so soon!
[He sits in his chair an the left of the table while Marsden sits in the rocker]
[Looking away from Marsden a moment, his face now full of selfish relief as he thinks]
Fortunate, his coming back . . . always calming influence on Nina . . .
Marsden
And I never dreamed of returning so soon. But Europe, Professor, is the big casualty they were afraid to set down on the list.
Professor Leeds
[His face clouding]
Yes, I suppose you found everything completely changed since before the war.
[He thinks resentfully]
The war . . . Gordon! . . .
Marsden
Europe has “gone west”—
[He smiles whimsically]
to America, let’s hope!
[Then frowningly]
I couldn’t stand it. There were millions sitting up with the corpse already, who had a family right to be there—
[Then matter-of-factly]
I was wasting my time, too. I couldn’t write a line.
[Then gaily]
But where’s Nina? I must see Nina!
Professor Leeds
She’ll be right in. She said she wanted to finish thinking something out— You’ll find Nina changed, Charlie, greatly changed!
[He sighs—thinking with a trace of guilty alarm]
The first thing she said at breakfast . . . “I dreamed of Gordon” . . . as if she wanted to taunt me! . . . how absurd! . . . her eyes positively glared! . . .
[Suddenly blurting out resentfully]
She dreams about Gordon.
Marsden
[Looking at him with amused surprise]
Well, I’d hardly call that a change, would you?
Professor Leeds
[Thinking, oblivious to this remark]
But I must constantly bear in mind that she’s not herself . . . that she’s a sick girl . . .
Marsden
[Thinking]
The morning news of Gordon’s death came . . . her face like gray putty . . . beauty gone . . . no face can afford intense grief . . . it’s only later when sorrow . . .
[With concern]
Just what do you mean by changed, Professor? Before I left she seemed to be coming out of that horrible numbed calm.
Professor Leeds
[’’Slowly and carefully’’]
Yes, she has played a lot of golf and tennis this summer, motored around with her friends, and even danced a good deal. And she eats with a ravenous appetite.
[Thinking frightenedly]
Breakfast . . . “dreamed of Gordon” . . . what a look of hate for me in her eyes! . . .
Marsden
But that sounds splendid! When I left she wouldn’t see anyone or go anywhere.
[Thinking pityingly]
Wandering from room to room . . . her thin body and pale lost face . . . gutted, love-abandoned eyes! . . .
Professor Leeds
Well, now she’s gone to the opposite extreme! Sees everyone—bores, fools—as if she’d lost all discrimination or wish ​to discriminate. And she talks interminably, Charlie—intentional nonsense, one would say! Refuses to be serious! Jeers at everything!
Marsden
[Consolingly]
Oh, that’s all undoubtedly part of the effort she’s making to forget.
Professor Leeds
[Absent-mindedly]
Yes.
[Arguing with himself]
Shall I tell him? . . . no . . . it might sound silly . . . but it’s terrible to be so alone in this . . . if Nina’s mother had lived . . . my wife . . . dead! . . . and for a time I actually felt released! . . . wife! . . . help-meet! . . . now I need help! . . . no use! . . . she’s gone! . . .
Marsden
[Watching him—thinking with a condescending affection]
Good little man . . . he looks worried . . . always fussing about something . . . he must get on Nina’s nerves. . . .
[Reassuringly]
No girl could forget Gordon in a hurry, especially after the shock of his tragic death.
Professor Leeds
[Irritably]
I realize that.
[Thinking resentfully]
Gordon . . . always Gordon with everyone! . . .
Marsden
By the way, I located the spot near Sedan where Gordon’s machine fell. Nina asked me to, you know.
Professor Leeds
[Irritated—expostulatingly]
For heaven’s sake, don’t remind her! Give her a chance to forget if you want to see her well again. After all, Charlie, life must be lived and Nina can’t live with a corpse forever!
[Trying to control his irritation and talk in an objective tone]
You see, I’m trying to see things through clearly and unsentimentally. If you’ll remember, I was as broken up as anyone over Gordon’s death. I’d become so reconciled to Nina’s love for him—although, as you know, I was opposed at first, and for fair reasons, I think, for the boy, for all his good looks and prowess in sport and his courses, really came of common people and had no money of his own except as he made a career for himself.
Marsden
[A trifle defensively]
I’m sure he would have had a brilliant career.
Professor Leeds
[Impatiently]
No doubt. Although you must acknowledge, Charlie, that college heroes rarely shine brilliantly in after life. Unfortunately, the tendency to spoil them in the university is a poor training—
Marsden
But Gordon was absolutely unspoiled, I should say.
Professor Leeds
[Heatedly]
Don’t misunderstand me, Charlie! I’d be the first to ac- knowledge—
[A bit pathetically]
It isn’t Gordon, Charlie. It’s his memory, his ghost, you might call it, haunting Nina, whose influence I have come to dread because of the terrible change in her attitude toward me.
[His face twitches as if he were on the verge of tears—he thinks desperately]
I’ve got to tell him . . . he will see that I acted for the best . . . that I was justified. . . .
[He hesitates—then blurts out]
It may sound incredible, but Nina has begun to act as if she hated me!
Marsden
[Startled]
Oh, come now!
Professor Leeds
[Insistently]
Absolutely! I haven’t wanted to admit it. I’ve refused to believe it, until it’s become too appallingly obvious in her whole attitude toward me!
[His voice trembles]
Marsden
[Moved—expostulating]
Oh, now you’re becoming morbid! Why, Nina has always idolized you! What possible reason—?
Professor Leeds
[Quickly]
I can answer that, I think. She has a reason. But why she should blame me when she must know I acted for the best— You probably don’t know, but just before he sailed for the front Gordon wanted their marriage to take place, and Nina consented. In fact, from the insinuations she lets drop now, she must have been most eager, but at the time— However, I felt it was ill-advised and I took Gordon aside and pointed out to him that such a precipitate marriage would be unfair to Nina, and scarcely honorable on his part.
Marsden
[Staring at him wonderingly]
You said that to Gordon?
[Thinking cynically]
A shrewd move! . . . Gordon’s proud spot, fairness and honor! . . . but was it honorable of you? . . .
Professor Leeds
[With a touch of asperity]
Yes, I said it, and I gave him my reason. There was the possibility he might be killed, in the flying service rather more than a possibility, which needless to say, I did not point out, but which Gordon undoubtedly realized, poor boy! If he were killed, he would be leaving Nina a widow, perhaps with a baby, with no resources, since he was penniless, except what pension she might get from the government; and all this while she was still at an age when a girl, especially one of Nina’s charm and beauty, should have all of life before her. Decidedly, I told him, in justice to Nina, they must ​wait until he had come back and begun to establish his position in the world. That was the square thing. And Gordon was quick to agree with me!
Marsden
[Thinking]
The square thing! . . . but we must all be crooks where happiness is concerned! . . . steal or starve! . . .
[Then rather ironically]
And so Gordon told Nina he’d suddenly realized it wouldn’t be fair to her. But I gather he didn’t tell her it was your scruple originally?
Professor Leeds
No, I asked him to keep what I said strictly confidential.
Marsden
[Thinking ironically]
Trusted to his honor again! . . . old fox! . . . poor Gordon! . . .
But Nina suspects now that you—?
Professor Leeds
[Startled]
Yes. That’s exactly it. She knows in some queer way. And she acts toward me exactly as if she thought I had deliberately destroyed her happiness, that I had hoped for Gordon’s death and been secretly overjoyed when the news came!
[His voice is shaking with emotion]
And there you have it, Charlie—the whole absurd mess!
[Thinking with a strident accusation]
And it’s true, you contemptible . . . !
[Then miserably defending himself]
No! . . . I acted unselfishly . . . for her sake! . . .
Marsden
[Wonderingly]
You don’t mean to tell me she has accused you of all this?
Professor Leeds
Oh, no, Charlie! Only by hints—looks—innuendos. She knows she has no real grounds, but in the present state of her mind the real and the unreal become confused—
Marsden
[Thinking cynically]
As always in all minds . . . or how could men live? . . .
[Soothingly]
That’s just what you ought to bear in your mind—the state of hers—and not get so worked up over what I should say is a combination of imagination on both your parts.
[He gets to his feet as he hears voices from the right]
Buck up! This must be Nina coming.
[The Professor gets to his feet, hastily composing his features into his bland, cultured expression]
Marsden
[Thinking self-mockingly but a bit worried about himself]
My heart pounding! . . . seeing Nina again! . . . how sentimental . . . how she’d laugh if she knew! . . . and quite rightly . . . absurd for me to react as if I loved . . . that way . . . her dear old Charlie . . . ha! . . .
[He smiles with bitter self-mockery]
Professor Leeds
[Thinking worriedly]
I hope she won’t make a scene . . . she’s seemed on the ​verge all day . . . thank God, Charlie’s like one of the family . . . but what a life for me! . . . with the opening of the new term only a few weeks off! . . . I can’t do it . . . I’ll have to call in a nerve specialist . . . but the last one did her no good . . . his outrageous fee . . . he can take it to court . . . I absolutely refuse . . . but if he should bring suit? . . . what a scandal . . . no, I’ll have to pay . . . somehow . . . borrow . . . he has me in a corner, the robber! . . .
Nina
[Enters and stands just inside the doorway looking directly at her father with defiant eyes, her face set in an expression of stubborn resolve. She is twenty, tall with broad square shoulders, slim strong hips and long beautifully developed legs—a fine athletic girl of the swimmer, tennis player, golfer type. Her straw-blond hair, framing her sunburned face, is bobbed. Her face is striking, handsome rather than pretty, the bone structure prominent, the forehead high, the lips of her rather large mouth clearly modelled above the firm jaw. Her eyes are beautiful and bewildering, extraordinarily large and a deep greenish blue. Since Gordon’s death they have a quality of continually shuddering before some terrible enigma, of being wounded to their depths and made defiant and resentful by their pain. Her whole manner, the charged atmosphere she gives off, is totally at variance with her healthy outdoor physique. It is strained, nerve-racked, hectic, a terrible tension of will alone maintaining self-possession. She is dressed in smart sport clothes. Too preoccupied with her resolve to remember or see Marsden, she speaks directly to her father in a voice tensely cold and calm]
I have made up my mind, Father.
Professor Leeds
[Thinking distractedly]
What does she mean? . . . oh, God help me!
[Flustered—hastily]
Don’t you see Charlie, Nina?
Marsden
[Troubled—thinking]
She has changed . . . what has happened? . . .
[He comes forward toward her—a bit embarrassed but affectionately using his pet name for her]
Hello, Nina Cara Nina! Are you trying to cut me dead, young lady?
Nina
[Turning her eyes to Marsden, holding out her hand for him to shake, in her cool, preoccupied voice]
Hello, Charlie.
[Her eyes immediately return to her father]
Listen, Father!
Marsden
[Standing near her, concealing his chagrin]
That hurts! . . . I mean nothing! . . . but she’s a sick girl . . . I must make allowance . . .
Professor Leeds
[Thinking distractedly]
That look in her eyes! . . . hate! . . .
[With a silly giggle]
Really, Nina, you’re absolutely rude! What has Charlie done?
Nina
[In her cool tone]
Why, nothing. Nothing at all.
[She goes to him with a detached, friendly manner]
Did I seem rude, Charlie? I didn’t mean to be.
[She kisses him with a cool, friendly smile]
Welcome home.
[Thinking wearily]
What has Charlie done? . . . nothing . . . and never will . . . Charlie sits beside the fierce river, immaculately timid, cool and clothed, watching the burning, frozen naked swimmers drown at last. . . .
Marsden
[Thinking torturedly]
Cold lips . . . the kiss of contempt! . . . for dear old Charlie! . . .
[Forcing a good-natured laugh]
Rude? Not a bit!
[Banteringly]
As I’ve often reminded you, what can I expect when the first word you ever spoke in this world was an insult to me. “Dog” you said, looking right at me—at the age of one!
[He laughs. The Professor laughs nervously. Nina smiles perfunctorily]
Nina
[Thinking wearily]
The fathers laugh at little daughter Nina . . . I must get away! . . . nice Charlie doggy . . . faithful . . . fetch and carry . . . bark softly in books at the deep night. . . .
Professor Leeds
[Thinking]
What is she thinking? . . . I can’t stand living like this! . . .
[Giggle gone to a twitching grin]
You are a cool one, Nina! You’d think you’d just seen Charlie yesterday!
Nina
[Slowly—coolly and reflectively]
Well, the war is over. Coming back safe from Europe isn’t such an unusual feat now, is it?
Marsden
[Thinking bitterly]
A taunt . . . I didn’t fight . . . physically unfit . . . not like Gordon . . . Gordon in flames . . . how she must resent my living! . . . thinking of me, scribbling in press bureau . . . louder and louder lies . . . drown the guns and the screams . . . deafen the world with lies . . . hired choir of liars! . . .
[Forcing a joking tone]
Little you know the deadly risks I ran, Nina ! If you’d eaten some of the food they gave me on my renovated transport, you’d shower me with congratulations!
[The Professor forces a snicker]
Nina
[Coolly]
Well, you’re here, and that’s that.
[Then suddenly expanding in a sweet, genuinely affectionate smile]
And I am glad, Charlie, always glad you’re here! You know that.
Marsden
[Delighted and embarrassed]
I hope so, Nina!
Nina
[Turning on her father—determinedly]
I must finish what I started to say, Father. I’ve thought it all out and decided that I simply must get away from here at once—or go crazy! And I’m going on the nine-forty tonight.
[She turns to Marsden with a quick smile]
You’ll have to help me pack, Charlie!
[Thinking with weary relief]
Now that’s said . . . I’m going . . . never come back . . . oh, how I loathe this room! . . .
Marsden
[Thinking with alarm]
What’s this? . . . going? . . . going to whom? . . .
Professor Leeds
[Thinking—terrified]
Going? . . . never come back to me? . . . no! . . .
[Desperately putting on his prim severe manner toward an unruly pupil]
This is rather a sudden decision, isn’t it? You haven’t mentioned before that you were considering—in fact, you’ve led me to believe that you were quite contented here—that is, of course I mean for the time being, and I really think—
Marsden
[Looking at Nina—thinking with alarm]
Going away to whom? . . .
​[Then watching the Professor with a pitying shudder]
He’s on the wrong tack with his professor’s manner . . . her eyes seeing cruelly through him . . . with what terrible recognition! . . . God, never bless me with children! . . .
Nina
[Thinking with weary scorn]
The Professor of Dead Languages is talking again . . . a dead man lectures on the past of living . . . since I was born I have been in his class, loving-attentive, pupil-daughter Nina . . . my ears numb with spiritless messages from the dead . . . dead words droning on . . . listening because he is my cultured father . . . a little more inclined to deafness than the rest (let me be just) because he is my father . . . father? . . . what is father? . . .
Professor Leeds
[Thinking—terrified]
I must talk her out of it! . . . find the right words! . . . oh, I know she won’t hear me! . . . oh, wife, why did you die, you would have talked to her, she would have listened to you! . . .
[Continuing in his professor’s superior manner]
—and I really think, in justice to yourself above all, you ought to consider this step with great care before you definitely commit yourself. First and foremost, there is your health to be taken into consideration. You’ve been very ill, Nina, how perilously so perhaps you’re not completely aware, but I assure you, and Charlie can corroborate my statement, that six months ago the doctors thought it might be years before—and yet, by staying home and resting and finding healthy outdoor recreation among your old friends, and ​keeping your mind occupied with the routine of managing the household—
[He forces a prim playful smile]
and managing me, I might add!—you have wonderfully improved and I think it most ill-advised in the hottest part of August, while you’re really still a convalescent—
Nina
[Thinking]
Talking! . . . his voice like a fatiguing dying tune droned on a beggar’s organ . . . his words arising from the tomb of a soul in puffs of ashes . . .
[Torturedly]
Ashes! . . . oh, Gordon, my dear one! . . . oh, lips on my lips, oh, strong arms around me, oh, spirit so brave and generous and gay! . . . ashes dissolving into mud! . . . mud and ashes! . . . that’s all! . . . gone! . . . gone forever from me! . . .
Professor Leeds
[Thinking angrily]
Her eyes . . . I know that look . . . tender, loving . . . not for me . . . damn Gordon! . . . I’m glad he’s dead! . . .
[A touch of asperity in his voice]
And at a couple of hours’ notice to leave everything in the air, as it were—
[Then judicially]
No, Nina, frankly, I can’t see it. You know I’d gladly consent to anything in the world to benefit you, but—surely, you can’t have reflected!
Nina
[Thinking torturedly]
Gordon darling, I must go away where I can think of you in silence! . . .
[She turns on her father, her voice trembling with the effort to keep it in control—icily]
It’s no use talking, Father. I have reflected and I am going!
Professor Leeds
[With asperity]
But I tell you it’s quite impossible! I don’t like to bring up the money consideration but I couldn’t possibly afford—And how will you support yourself, if I may ask? Two years in the University, I am sorry to say, won’t be much use to you when applying for a job. And even if you had completely recovered from your nervous breakdown, which it’s obvious to anyone you haven’t, then I most decidedly think you should finish out your science course and take your degree before you attempt—
[Thinking desperately]
No use ! . . . she doesn’t hear . . . thinking of Gordon . . . she’ll defy me . . .
Nina
[Thinking desperately]
I must keep calm . . . I mustn’t let go or I’ll tell him everything . . . and I mustn’t tell him . . . he’s my father . . .
[With the same cold calculating finality]
I’ve already had six months’ training for a nurse. I will finish my training. There’s a doctor I know at a sanitarium ​for crippled soldiers—a friend of Gordon’s. I wrote to him and he answered that he’ll gladly arrange it.
Professor Leeds
[Thinking furiously]
Gordon’s friend . . . Gordon again! . . .
[Severely]
You seriously mean to tell me you, in your condition, want to nurse in a soldiers’ hospital! Absurd!
Marsden
[Thinking with indignant revulsion]
Quite right, Professor! . . . her beauty . . . all those men . . . in their beds . . . it’s too revolting! . . .
[With a persuasive quizzing tone]
Yes, I must say I can’t see you as a peace-time Florence Nightingale, Nina!
Nina
[Coolly, struggling to keep control, ignoring these remarks]
So you see, Father, I’ve thought of everything and there’s not the slightest reason to worry about me. And I’ve been teaching Mary how to take care of you. So you won’t need me at all. You can go along as if nothing had happened—and really, nothing will have happened that hasn’t already happened.
Professor Leeds
Why, even the manner in which you address me—the tone you take—proves conclusively that you’re not yourself!
Nina
[Her voice becoming a bit uncanny, her thoughts breaking through]
No, I’m not myself yet. That’s just it. Not all myself. But I’ve been becoming myself. And I must finish!
Professor Leeds
[With angry significance—to Marsden]
You hear her, Charlie? She’s a sick girl!
Nina
[Slowly and strangely]
I’m not sick. I’m too well. But they are sick and I must give my health to help them to live on, and to live on myself.
[With a sudden intensity in her tone]
I must pay for my cowardly treachery to Gordon! You should understand this, Father, you who—
[She swallows hard, catching her breath]
[Thinking desperately]
I’m beginning to tell him! . . . I mustn’t! . . . he’s my father! . . .
Professor Leeds
[In a panic of guilty fear, but defiantly]
What do you mean? I am afraid you’re not responsible for what you’re saying.
Nina
[Again with the strange intensity]
I must pay! It’s my plain duty! Gordon is dead! What ​use is my life to me or anyone? But I must make it of use—by giving it!
[Fiercely]
I must learn to give myself, do you hear—give and give until I can make that gift of myself for a man’s happiness without scruple, without fear, without joy except in his joy! When I’ve accomplished this I’ll have found myself, I’ll know how to start in living my own life again!
[Appealing to them with a desperate impatience]
Don’t you see? In the name of the commonest decency and honor, I owe it to Gordon!
Professor Leeds
[Sharply]
No, I can’t see—nor anyone else!
[Thinking savagely]
I hope Gordon is in hell! . . .
Marsden
[Thinking]
Give herself? . . . can she mean her body? . . . beautiful body . . . to cripples? . . . for Gordon’s sake? . . . damn Gordon! . . .
[Coldly]
What do you mean, you owe it to Gordon, Nina?
Professor Leeds
[Bitterly]
Yes, how ridiculous! It seems to me when you gave him your love, he got more than he could ever have hoped—
Nina
[With fierce self-contempt]
I gave him? What did I give him? It’s what I didn’t give! That last night before he sailed—in his arms until my body ached—kisses until my lips were numb—knowing all that night—something in me knowing he would die, that he would never kiss me again—knowing this so surely yet with my cowardly brain lying, no, he’ll come back and marry you, you’ll be happy ever after and feel his children at your breasts looking up with eyes so much like his, possessing eyes so happy in possessing you!
[Then violently]
But Gordon never possessed me! I’m still Gordon’s silly virgin! And Gordon is muddy ashes! And I’ve lost my happiness forever! All that last night I knew he wanted me. I knew it was only the honorable code-bound Gordon, who kept commanding from his brain, no, you mustn’t, you must respect her, you must wait till you have a marriage license!
[She gives a mocking laugh]
Professor Leeds
[Shocked]
Nina! This is really going too far!
Marsden
[Repelled]
[With a superior sneer]
Oh, come now, Nina! You’ve been reading books. Those don’t sound like your thoughts.
Nina
[Without looking at him, her eyes on her father’s—intensely]
Gordon wanted me! I wanted Gordon! I should have made him take me! I knew he would die and I would have no children, that there would be no big Gordon or little Gordon left to me, that happiness was calling me, never to call again if I refused! And yet I did refuse! I didn’t make him take me! I lost him forever! And now I am lonely and not pregnant with anything at all, but—but loathing!
[She hurls this last at her father—fiercely]
Why did I refuse? What was that cowardly something in me that cried, no, you mustn’t, what would your father say?
Professor Leeds
[Thinking—furiously]
What an animal! . . . and my daughter! . . . she doesn’t get it from me! . . . was her mother like that? . . .
[Distractedly]
Nina! I really can’t listen!
Nina
[Savagely]
And that’s exactly what my father did say! Wait, he told Gordon! Wait for Nina till the war’s over, and you’ve got a good job and can afford a marriage license!
Professor Leeds
[Crumbling pitifully]
Nina! I—!
Marsden
[Flurriedly—going to him]
Don’t take her seriously, Professor!
[Thinking with nervous repulsion]
Nina has changed .. . . all flesh now . . . lust . . . who would dream she was so sensual? . . . I wish I were out of this! . . . I wish I hadn’t come here today! . . .
Nina
[Coldly and deliberately]
Don’t lie any more, Father! Today I’ve made up my mind to face things. I know now why Gordon suddenly dropped all idea of marriage before he left, how unfair to me he suddenly decided it would be! Unfair to me! Oh, that’s humorous! To think I might have had happiness, Gordon, and now Gordon’s child—
[Then directly accusing him]
You told him it’d be unfair, you put him on his honor, didn’t you?
Professor Leeds
[Collecting himself—woodenly]
Yes. I did it for your sake, Nina.
Nina
[In the same voice as before]
It’s too late for lies!
Professor Leeds
[Woodenly]
Let us say then that I persuaded myself it was for your sake. That may be true. You are young. You think one can live with truth. Very well. It is also true I was jealous ​of Gordon. I was alone and I wanted to keep your love. I hated him as one hates a thief one may not accuse nor punish. I did my best to prevent your marriage. I was glad when he died. There. Is that what you wish me to say?
Nina
Yes. Now I begin to forget I’ve hated you. You were braver than I, at least.
Professor Leeds
I wanted to live comforted by your love until the end. In short, I am a man who happens to be your father.
[He hides his face in his hands and weeps softly]
Forgive that man!
Marsden
[Thinking timidly]
In short, forgive us our possessing as we forgive those who possessed before us . . . Mother must be wondering what keeps me so long . . . it’s time for tea . . . I must go home . . .
Nina
[Sadly]
Oh, I forgive you. But do you understand now that I must somehow find a way to give myself to Gordon still, that I must pay my debt and learn to forgive myself?
Professor Leeds
Yes.
Nina
Mary will look after you.
Professor Leeds
Mary will do very well, I’m sure.
Marsden
[Thinking]
Nina has changed . . . this is no place for me . . . Mother is waiting tea. . . .
[Then venturing on an uncertain tone of pleasantry]
Quite so, you two. But isn’t this all nonsense? Nina will be back with us in a month, Professor, what with the depressing heat and humidity, and the more depressing halt and the lame!
Professor Leeds
[Sharply]
She must stay away until she gets well. This time I do speak for her sake.
Nina
I’ll take the nine-forty.
[Turning to Marsden—with a sudden girlishness]
Come on upstairs, Charlie, and help me pack!
[She grabs him by the hand and starts to pull him away]
Marsden
[Shrugging his shoulders—confusedly]
Well—I don’t understand this!
Nina
[With a strange smile]
But some day I’ll read it all in one of your books, Charlie, ​and it’ll be so simple and easy to understand that I won’t be able to recognize it, Charlie, let alone understand it!
[She laughs teasingly]
Dear old Charlie!
Marsden
[Thinking in agony]
God damn in hell . . . dear old Charlie! . . .
[Then with a genial grin]
I’ll have to propose, Nina, if you continue to be my severest critic! I’m a stickler for these little literary conventions, you know!
Nina
All right. Propose while we pack.
[She leads him off, right]
Professor Leeds
[Blows his nose, wipes his eyes, sighs, clears his throat, squares his shoulders, pulls his coat down in front, sets his tie straight, and starts to take a brisk turn about the room. His face is washed blandly clean of all emotion]
Three weeks now . . . new term . . . I will have to be looking over my notes. . . .
[He looks out of window, front]
Grass parched in the middle . . . Tom forgotten the sprinkler . . . careless . . . ah, there goes Mr. Davis of the bank . . . bank . . . my salary will go farther now . . . books I really need . . . all bosh two can live as cheaply as one . . . there are worse things than being a trained nurse . . . good background of discipline . . . she needs it . . . she may meet rich fellow there . . . mature . . . only students here for her . . . and their fathers never approve if they have anything. . . .
[He sits down with a forced sigh of peace]
​I am glad we had it out . . . his ghost will be gone now . . . no more Gordon, Gordon, Gordon, love and praise and tears, all for Gordon! . . . Mary will do very well by me . . . I will have more leisure and peace of mind . . . and Nina will come back home . . . when she is well again . . . the old Nina! . . . my little Nina! . . . she knows and she forgave me . . . she said so . . . said! . . . but could she really? . . . don’t you imagine? . . . deep in her heart? . . . she still must hate? . . . oh, God! . . . I feel cold! . . . alone! . . . this home is abandoned! . . . the house is empty and full of death! . . . there is a pain about my heart! . . .
[’’He calls hoarsely, getting to his feet’’]
Nina!
Nina’s Voice
[Her voice, fresh and girlish, calls from upstairs]
Yes, Father. Do you want me?
Professor Leeds
[Struggling with himself—goes to door and calls with affectionate blandness]
No. Never mind. Just wanted to remind you to call for a taxi in good time.
Nina’s Voice
I won’t forget.
Professor Leeds
[’’Looks at his watch’’]
Five-thirty just . . . nine-forty, the train . . . then . . . Nina no more! . . . four hours more . . . she’ll be packing . . . then good-bye . . . a kiss . . . nothing more ever to say to each other . . . and I’ll die in here some day . . . alone . . . gasp, cry out for help . . . the president will speak at the funeral . . . Nina will be ​here again . . . Nina in black . . . too late! . . .
[He calls hoarsely]
Nina!
[There is no answer]
In other room . . . doesn’t hear . . . just as well . . .
[He turns to the bookcase and pulls out the first volume his hands come on and opens it at random and begins to read aloud sonorously like a child whistling to keep up his courage in the dark]
“Stetit unus in arcem Erectus capitis victorque ad sidera mittit Sidereos oculos propiusque adspectat Olympum Inquiritque Iovem;” . . .
CURTAIN