# Strange Interlude/Act 7

Layout 2
ACT SEVEN
ACT SEVEN
Scene: Nearly eleven years later. The sitting room of the Evans’ apartment on Park Avenue, New York City —a room that is a tribute to Nina’s good taste. It is a large, sunny room, the furniture expensive but extremely simple. The arrangement of the furniture shown is as in previous scenes except there are more pieces. Two chairs are by the table at left. There is a smaller table at center, and a chaise longue. A large, magnificently comfortable sofa is at right.
It is about one in the afternoon of a day in early fall. Nina and Darrell and their son, Gordon, are in the room. Nina is reclining on the chaise longue watching Gordon who is sitting on the floor near her, turning over the pages of a book. Darrell is sitting by the table at left, watching Nina.
Nina is thirty-five, in the full bloom of her womanhood. She is slimmer than in the previous scene. Her skin still retains a trace of summer tan and she appears in the pink of physical condition. But as in the first act of the play, there is beneath this a sense of great mental strain. One notices the many lines in her face at second glance. Her eyes are tragically sad in repose and her expression is set and masklike.
Gordon is eleven—a fine boy with, even at this age, the figure of an athlete. He looks older than he is. There ​is a grave expression to his face. His eyes are full of a quick-tempered sensitiveness. He does not noticeably resemble his mother. He looks nothing at all like his father. He seems to have sprung from a line distinct from any of the people we have seen.
Darrell has aged greatly. His hair is streaked with gray. He has grown stout. His face is a bit jowly and puffy under the eyes. The features have become blurred. He has the look of a man with no definite aim or ambition to which he can relate his living. His eyes are embittered and they hide his inner self-resentment behind a pose of cynical indifference.
Gordon
[Thinking as he plays—resentfully]
I wish Darrell’d get out of here! . . . why couldn’t Mother let me run my own birthday? . . . I’d never had him here, you bet! . . . what’s he always hanging ’round for? . . . why don’t he go off on one of his old trips again . . . last time he was gone more’n a year . . . I was hoping he’d died! . . . what makes Mother like him so much? . . . she makes me sick! . . . I’d think she’d get sick of the old fool and tell him to get out and never come back! . . . I’d kick him out if I was big enough! . . . it’s good for him he didn’t bring me any birthday present or I’d smash it first chance I got! . . .
Nina
[Watching him—brooding with loving tenderness—sadly]
No longer my baby . . . my little man . . . eleven . . . I can’t believe it . . . I’m thirty-five . . . five years ​more . . . at forty a woman has finished living . . . life passes by her . . . she rots away in peace! . . .
[Intensely]
I want to rot away in peace! . . . I’m sick of the fight for happiness! . . .
[Smiling with a wry amusement at herself]
What ungrateful thoughts on my son’s birthday! . . . my love for him has been happiness . . . how handsome he is! . . . not at all like Ned . . . when I was carrying him I was fighting to forget Ned . . . hoping he might be like Gordon . . . and he is . . . poor Ned, I’ve made him suffer a great deal . . .!
[She looks over at Darrell—self-mockingly]
My lover! . . . so very rarely now, those interludes of passion . . . what has bound us together all these years?. . . love? . . . if he could only have been contented with what I was able to give him! . . . but he has always wanted more . . . yet never had the courage to insist on all or nothing . . . proud without being proud enough! . . . he has shared me for his comfort’s sake with a little gratitude and a big bitterness . . . and sharing me has corrupted him! . . .
[Then bitterly]
No, I can’t blame myself! . . . no woman can make a man happy who has no purpose in life! . . . why did he give up his career? . . . because I had made him weak? . . .
[With resentful scorn]
No, it was I who shamed him into taking up biology and starting the station at Antigua . . . if I hadn’t he’d simply have hung around me year after year, doing nothing . . .
[Irritatedly]
Why does he stay so long? . . . over six months . . . I can’t stand having him around me that long any more! ​. . . why doesn’t he go back to the West Indies? . . . I always get a terrible feeling after he’s been back a while that he’s waiting for Sam to die! . . . or go insane! . . .
Darrell
[Thinking—with an apathetic bitterness]
What is she thinking? . . . we sit together in silence, thinking . . . thoughts that never know the other’s thoughts . . . our love has become the intimate thinking together of thoughts that are strangers . . . our love! . . . well, whatever it is that has bound us together, it’s strong! . . . I’ve broken with her, run away, tried to forget her . . . running away to come back each time more abject! . . . or, if she saw there was some chance I might break loose, she’d find some way to call me back . . . and I’d forget my longing for freedom, I’d come wagging my tail . . . no, guinea pigs have no tails . . . I hope my experiment has proved something! . . . Sam . . . happy and wealthy . . . and healthy! . . . I used to hope he’d break down . . . I’d watch him and read symptoms of insanity into every move he made . . . despicable? . . . certainly, but love makes one either noble or despicable! . . . he only grew healthier . . . now I’ve given up watching him . . . almost entirely . . . now I watch him grow fat and I laugh! . . . the huge joke has dawned on me! . . . Sam is the only normal one! . . . we lunatics! . . . Nina and I! . . . have made a sane life for him out of our madness! . . .
[Watching Nina—sadly]
Always thinking of her son . . . well, I gave him to her . . . Gordon . . . I hate that name . . . why do I continue hanging around here? . . . each time after a few months my love changes to bitterness . . . I blame Nina for the mess I’ve made of life . . .
Nina
[Suddenly turning on him]
When are you going back to the West Indies, Ned?
Darrell
[Determinedly]
Soon!
Gordon
[Stops playing to listen—thinking]
Gosh, I’m glad! . . . How soon, I wonder? . . .
Nina
[With a trace of a sneer]
I don’t see how you can afford to leave your work for such long periods. Don’t you grow rusty?
Darrell
[Looking at her meaningly]
My life work is to rust—nicely and unobtrusively!
[He smiles mockingly]
Nina
[Sadly—thinking]
To rot away in peace . . . that’s all he wants now, too! . . . and this is what love has done to us! . . .
Darrell
[Bitterly]
My work was finished twelve years ago. As I believe you know, I ended it with an experiment which resulted so successfully that any further meddling with human lives would have been superfluous!
Nina
[Pityingly]
Ned!
Darrell
[Indifferent and cynical]
But you meant my present dabbling about. You know better than to call that work. It’s merely my hobby. Our backing Sam has made Marsden and me so wealthy that we’re forced to take up hobbies. Marsden goes in for his old one of dashing off genteel novels, while I play at biology. Sam argued that golf would be healthier and less nonsensical for me, but you insisted on biology. And give it its due, it has kept me out in the open air and been conducive to travelling and broadening my mind!
[Then forcing a smile]
But I’m exaggerating. I really am interested, or I’d never keep financing the Station. And when I’m down there I do work hard, helping Preston. He’s doing remarkable work already, and he’s still in his twenties. He’ll be a big man—
[His bitterness cropping up again]
at least if he takes my advice and never carries his experiments as far as human lives!
Nina
[In a low voice]
How can you be so bitter, Ned—on Gordon’s birthday?
Darrell
[Thinking cynically]
She expects me to love the child she deliberately took from me and gave to another man! . . . no, thank you, ​Nina! . . . I’ve been hurt enough! . . . I’ll not leave myself open there! . . .
[Regarding his son bitterly]
Every day he gets more like Sam, doesn’t he?
Gordon
[Thinking]
He’s talking about me . . . he better look out! . . .
Nina
[Resentfully]
I don’t think Gordon resembles Sam at all. He reminds me a great deal of his namesake.
Darrell
[Touched on a sore spot—with a nasty laugh—cuttingly]
Gordon Shaw? Not the slightest bit in the world! And you ought to thank God he doesn’t! It’s the last thing I’d want wished on a boy of mine—to be like that rah-rah hero!
Gordon
[Thinking contemptuously]
Boy of his! . . . He hasn’t got a boy! . . .
Nina
[Amused and pleased by his jealousy]
Poor Ned! . . . isn’t he silly? . . . at his age, after all we’ve been through, to still feel jealous . . .
Darrell
I’d much rather have him
[Pointing to Gordon]
grow up to be an exact duplicate of the esteemed Samuel!
Gordon
[Thinking resentfully]
He’s always making fun of my father! . . . he better look out! . . .
Darrell
[More and more mockingly]
And what could be fairer? The good Samuel is an A one success. He has a charming wife and a darling boy, and a Park Avenue apartment and a membership in an expensive golf club. And, above all, he rests so complacently on the proud assurance that he is self-made!
Nina
[Sharply]
Ned! You ought to be ashamed! You know how grateful Sam has always been to you!
Darrell
[Bitingly]
Would he be grateful if he knew how much I’d really done for him?
Nina
[Sternly]
Ned!
Gordon
[Suddenly jumps up and confronts Darrell, his fists clenched, trembling with rage, stammers]
You—shut up—making fun of my father!
Nina
[In dismay]
Gordon!
Darrell
[Mockingly]
My dear boy, I wouldn’t make fun of your father for the world!
Gordon
[Baffledly—his lips trembling]
You—you did, too!
[Then intensely]
I hate you!
Nina
[Shocked and indignant]
Gordon! How dare you talk like that to your Uncle Ned!
Gordon
[Rebelliously]
He’s not my uncle! He’s not my anything!
Nina
Not another word or you’ll be punished, whether it’s your birthday or not! If you can’t behave better than that, I’ll have to phone to all your friends they mustn’t come here this afternoon, that you’ve been so bad you can’t have a party!
[Thinking remorsefully]
Is this my fault? . . . I’ve done my best to get him to love Ned! . . . but it only makes him worse! . . . it makes him turn against me! . . . turn from me to Sam! . . .
Gordon
[Sullenly]
I don’t care! I’ll tell Dad!
Nina
[Peremptorily]
Leave the room! And don’t come near me again, do you hear, until you’ve apologized to Uncle Ned!
[Thinking angrily]
Dad! . . . It’s always Dad with him now! . . .
Darrell
[Boredly]
Oh, never mind, Nina!
Gordon
[Going out—mutters]
I won’t ’pologize—never!
[Thinking vindictively]
I hate her too when she sides with him! . . . I don’t care if she is my mother! . . . she has no right! . . .
[He goes out, rear]
Darrell
[Irritably]
What if he does hate me? I don’t blame him! He suspects what I know—that I’ve acted like a coward and a weakling toward him! I should have claimed him no matter what happened to other people! Whose fault is it if he hates me, and I dislike him because he loves another father? Ours! You gave him to Sam and I consented! All right! Then don’t blame him for acting like Sam’s son!
Nina
But he shouldn’t say he hates you.
[Thinking bitterly]
​Sam’s! . . . he’s becoming all Sam’s! . . . I’m getting to mean nothing! . . .
Darrell
[Sardonically]
Perhaps he realizes subconsciously that I am his father, his rival in your love; but I’m not his father ostensibly, there are no taboos, so he can come right out and hate me to his heart’s content!
[Bitterly]
If he realized how little you love me any more, he wouldn’t bother!
Nina
[Exasperatedly]
Oh, Ned, do shut up! I can’t stand hearing those same old reproaches I’ve heard a thousand times before! I can’t bear to hear myself making the same old bitter counter-accusations. And then there’ll be the same old terrible scene of hate and you’ll run away—it used to be to drink and women, now it’s to the Station. Or I’ll send you away, and then after a time I’ll call you back, because I’ll have gotten so lonely again living this lonely lie of my life, with no one to speak to except Sam’s business friends and their deadly wives.
[She laughs helplessly]
Or else you’ll get lonely in your lie a little before I do and come back again of your own desire! And then we’ll kiss and cry and love each other again!
Darrell
[With an ironical grimace]
Or I might cheat myself into believing I’d fallen in love with ​some nice girl and get myself engaged to be married again as I did once before! And then you’d be jealous again and have to find some way of getting me to break it off!
Nina
[Forlornly amused]
Yes—I suppose the thought of a wife taking you away from me would be too much—again!
[Then helplessly]
Oh, Ned, when are we ever going to learn something about each other? We act like such brainless fools—with our love. It’s always so wonderful when you first come back, but you always stay too long—or I always keep you too long! You never leave before we’ve come to the ugly bitter stage when we blame each other!
[Then suddenly forlornly tender]
Is it possible you can still love me, Ned?
Darrell
[Mournfully smiling]
I must, or I’d never act this fool way, would I?
Nina
[Smiling back]
And I must love you.
[Then seriously]
After all, I can never forget that Gordon is the child of your love, Ned.
Darrell
[Sadly]
You’d better forget that, for his sake and your own. Chil​dren have sure intuitions. He feels cheated of your love—by me. So he’s concentrating his affections on Sam whose love he knows is secure, and withdrawing from you.
Nina
[Frightened—angrily]
Don’t be stupid, Ned! That isn’t so at all! I hate you when you talk that way!
Darrell
[Cynically]
Hate me, exactly. As he does! That’s what I’m advising you to do if you want to keep his love!
[He smiles grimly]
Nina
[Sharply]
If Gordon doesn’t love you it’s because you’ve never made the slightest attempt to be lovable to him! There’s no earthly reason why he should like you, when you come right down to it, Ned! Take today, for instance. It’s his birthday but you’d forgotten, or didn’t care! You never even brought him a present.
Darrell
[With bitter sadness]
I did bring him a present. It’s out in the hall. I bought him a costly delicate one so he could get full satisfaction and yet not strain himself when he smashed it, as he’s smashed every present of mine in the past! And I left it out in the hall, to be given to him after I’ve gone because, after all, he is my son and I’d prefer he didn’t smash it before my eyes!
[Trying to mock his own emotion back—with savage bitterness]
I’m selfish, you see! I don’t want my son to be too happy at my expense, even on his birthday!
Nina
[Tormented by love and pity and remorse]
Ned! For God’s sake! How can you torture us like that! Oh, it’s too dreadful—what I have done to you! Forgive me, Ned!
Darrell
[His expression changing to one of pity for her—goes to her and puts his hand on her head—tenderly]
I’m sorry.
[With remorseful tenderness]
Dreadful, what you’ve done, Nina? Why, you’ve given me the only happiness I’ve ever known! And no matter what I may say or do in bitterness, I’m proud—and grateful, Nina!
Nina
[Looks up at him with deep tenderness and admiration]
Dearest, it’s wonderful of you to say that!
[She gets up and puts her hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes—tenderly in a sort of pleading]
Can’t we be brave enough—for you to go away—now, on this note—sure of our love—with no ugly bitterness for once?
Darrell
[Joyfully]
Yes! I’ll go—this minute if you wish!
Nina
[Playfully]
Oh, you needn’t go this minute! Wait and say good-bye to Sam. He’d be terribly hurt if you didn’t.
[Then seriously]
And will you promise to stay away two years—even if I call you back before then—and work this time, really work?
Darrell
I’ll try, Nina!
Nina
And then—surely come back to me!
Darrell
[Smiling]
Surely—again!
Nina
Then good-bye, dear!
[She kisses him]
Darrell
Again!
[He smiles and she smiles and they hiss again. Gordon appears in the doorway at rear and stands for a moment in a passion of jealousy and rage and grief, watching them]
Gordon
[Thinking with a strange tortured shame]
I mustn’t see her! . . . pretend I didn’t see her! . . . mustn’t never let her know I saw her! . . .
[He vanishes as silently as he had come]
Nina
[Suddenly moving away from Darrell, looking around her uneasily]
Ned, did you see—? I had the queerest feeling just then that someone—
Gordon
[His voice sounds from the hall with a strained casualness]
Mother! Uncle Charlie’s downstairs. Shall he come right up?
Nina
[Startled, her own voice straining to be casual]
Yes, dear—of course!
[Then worriedly]
His voice sounded funny. Did it to you? Do you suppose he—?
Darrell
[With a wry smile]
It’s possible. To be on the safe side, you’d better tell him you kissed me good-bye to get rid of me!
[Then angrily]
So Marsden’s here again! The damned old woman! I simply can’t go him any more, Nina ! Why Gordon should take such a fancy to that old sissy is beyond me!
Nina
[Suddenly struck—thinking]
Why, he’s jealous of Gordon liking Charlie! . . .
[Immediately all affectionate pity]
Then he must love Gordon a little! . . .
[Letting her pity escape her]
Poor Ned!
[She makes a movement toward him]
Darrell
[Startled and afraid she may have guessed something he doesn’t acknowledge to himself]
What? Why do you say that?
[Then rudely defensive]
Don’t be silly!
[Resentfully]
You know well enough what I’ve always held against him! I wanted to put up all the money to back Sam when he started. I wanted to do it for Sam’s sake—but especially for my child’s sake. Why did Marsden absolutely insist on Sam letting him in equally? It isn’t that I begrudge him the money he’s made, but I know there was something queer in his mind and that he did it intentionally to spite me!
[From the hallway comes the sound of Marsden’s voice and Gordon’s greeting him vociferously as he lets him into the apartment. As Darrell listens his expression becomes furious again. He bursts out angrily]
You’re letting that old ass spoil Gordon, you fool, you!
[Marsden comes in from the rear, smiling, immaculately dressed as usual. He looks hardly any older except that his hair is grayer and his tall figure more stooped. His expression and the general atmosphere he gives out are more nearly like those of Act One. If not happy, he is at least living in comparative peace with himself and his environment]
Marsden
[Comes straight to Nina]
Hello, Nina Cara Nina! Congratulations on your son’s birthday!
[He kisses her]
​He’s grown so much bigger and stronger in the two months since I’ve seen him.
[He turns and shakes hands with Darrell coldly—with a trace of a patronizing air]
Hello, Darrell. Last time I was here you were leaving for the West Indies in a week but I see you’re still around.
Darrell
[Furious—with a mocking air]
And here you are around again yourself! You’re looking comfortable these days, Marsden. I hope your sister is well. It must be a great comfort, having her to take your mother’s place!
[Then with a harsh laugh]
Yes, we’re two bad pennies, eh, Marsden?—counterfeits—fakes—Sam’s silent partners!
Nina
[Thinking irritably]
Ned’s getting hateful again! . . . Poor Charlie! . . . I won’t have him insulted! . . . he’s become such a comfort . . . he understands so much . . . without my having to tell him . . .
[Looking rebukingly at Darrell]
Ned is sailing this week, Charlie.
Marsden
[Thinking triumphantly]
He’s trying to insult me . . . I know all he means . . . but what do I care what he says . . . she’s sending him away! . . . intentionally before me! . . . it means he’s finished! . . .
Darrell
[Thinking resentfully]
Is she trying to humiliate me before him? . . . I’ll teach her! . . .
[Then struggling with himself—remorsefully]
No . . . not this time . . . I promised . . . no quarrel . . . remember . . .
[Acquiescing—with a pleasant nod to Marsden]
Yes, I’m going this week and I expect to be gone at least two years this time—two years of hard work.
Marsden
[Thinking with scornful pity]
His work! . . . what a pretense! . . . a scientific dilettante! . . . could anything be more pitiable? . . . poor chap! . . .
[Perfunctorily]
Biology must be an interesting study. I wish I knew more about it.
Darrell
[Stung yet amused by the other’s tone—ironically]
Yes, so do I wish you did, Marsden! Then you might write more about life and less about dear old ladies and devilish bachelors! Why don’t you write a novel about life sometime, Marsden?
[He turns his back on Marsden with a glance of repulsion and walks to the window and stares out]
Marsden
[Confusedly]
Yes—decidedly—but hardly in my line—
[Thinking in anguish—picking up a magazine and turning over the pages aimlessly]
​That . . . is . . . true! . . . he’s full of poison! . . . I’ve never married the word to life! . . . I’ve been a timid bachelor of Arts, not an artist! . . . my poor pleasant books! . . . all is well! . . . is this well, the three of us? . . . Darrell has become less and less her lover . . . Nina has turned more and more to me . . . we have built up a secret life of subtle sympathies and confidences . . . she has known I have understood about her mere physical passion for Darrell . . . what woman could be expected to love Sam passionately? . . . some day she’ll confide all about Darrell to me . . . now that he’s finished . . . she knows that I love her without my telling . . . she even knows the sort of love it is. . . .
[Passionately—thinking]
My love is finer than any she has known! . . . I do not lust for her! . . . I would be content if our marriage should be purely the placing of our ashes in the same tomb . . . our urns side by side and touching one another . . . could the others say as much, could they love so deeply? . . .
[Then suddenly miserably self-contemptuous]
What! . . . platonic heroics at my age! . . . do I believe a word of that? . . . look at her beautiful eyes! . . . wouldn’t I give anything in life to see them desire me? . . . and the intimacy I’m boasting about, what more does it mean than that I’ve been playing the dear old Charlie of her girlhood again? . . .
[Thinking in anguish]
Damned coward and weakling! . . .
Nina
[Looking at him—pityingly—thinking]
What does he always want of me? . . . me? . . . I am the only one who senses his deep hurt . . . I feel how life has wounded him . . . is that partly my fault, too? ​. . . I have wounded everyone . . . poor Charlie, what can I do for you? . . . if giving myself to you would bring you a moment’s happiness, could I? . . . the idea used to be revolting . . . now, nothing about love seems important enough to be revolting . . . poor Charlie, he only thinks he ought to desire me! dear Charlie, what a perfect lover he would make for one’s old age! . . . what a perfect lover when one was past passion! . . .
[Then with sudden scornful revulsion]
These men make me sick! . . . I hate all three of them! . . . they disgust me! . . . the wife and mistress in me has been killed by them! . . . thank God, I am only a mother now! . . . Gordon is my little man, my only man! . . .
[Suddenly]
I’ve got a job for you, Charlie—make the salad dressing for lunch. You know, the one I’m so crazy about.
Marsden
[Springs to his feet]
Righto!
[He puts his arm about her waist and they go out together laughingly, without a glance at Darrell]
Darrell
[Thinking dully]
I mustn’t stay to lunch . . . ghost at my son’s feast! . . . I better go now . . . why wait for Sam? . . . what is there to say to him I can say? . . . and there’s nothing about him I want to see . . . he’s as healthy as a pig . . . and as sane . . . I was afraid once his mother had lied to Nina . . . I went upstate and investigated . . . true, every word of it . . . his great-grandfather, his ​grandmother, his father, were all insane . . .
[Moving uneasily]
Stop it! . . . time to go when those thoughts come . . . sail on Saturday . . . not come here again . . . Nina will soon be fighting Sam for my son’s love! . . . I’m better out of that! . . . O Christ, what a mess it all is! . . .
Gordon
[Appears in the doorway in rear. He carries a small, expensive yacht’s model of a sloop with the sails set. He is in a terrific state of conflicting emotions, on the verge of tears yet stubbornly determined]
I got to do it! . . . Gosh, it’s awful . . . this boat is so pretty . . . why did it have to come from him? . . . I can get Dad to buy me another boat . . . but now I love this one . . . but he kissed Mother . . . she kissed him . . .
[He walks up defiantly and confronts Darrell who turns to him in surprise]
Hey—Darrell—did you—?
[He stops chokingly]
Darrell
[Immediately realizing what is coming—thinking with somber anguish]
So this has to happen! . . . what I dreaded! . . . my fate is merciless, it seems! . . .
[With strained kindliness]
Did what?
Gordon
[Growing hard—stammers angrily]
I found this—out in the hall. It can’t be from anybody else. Is this—your present?
Darrell
[Hard and defiant himself]
Yes.
Gordon
[In a rage—tremblingly]
Then—here’s what—I think of you!
[Beginning to cry, he breaks off the mast, bowsprit, breaks the mast in two, tears the rigging off and throws the dismantled hull at Darrell’s feet]
There! You can keep it!
Darrell
[His anger overcoming him for an instant]
You—you mean little devil, you! You don’t get that from me—
[He has taken a threatening step forward. Gordon stands white-faced, defying him. Darrell pulls himself up short—then in a trembling voice of deeply wounded affection]
You shouldn’t have done that, son. What difference do I make? It was never my boat. But it was your boat. You should consider the boat, not me. Don’t you like boats for themselves? It was a beautiful little boat, I thought. That’s why I—
Gordon
[Sobbing miserably]
It was awful pretty! I didn’t want to do it!
[He kneels down and gathers up the boat into his arms again]
Honest I didn’t. I love boats! But I hate you!
[This last with passionate intensity]
Darrell
[Dryly]
So I’ve observed.
[Thinking with angry anguish]
He hurts, damn him! . . .
Gordon
No, you don’t know! More’n ever now! More’n ever!
[The secret escaping him]
I saw you kissing Mother! I saw Mother, too!
Darrell
[Startled, but immediately forcing a smile]
But I was saying good-bye. We’re old friends. You know that.
Gordon
You can’t fool me! This was different!
[Explosively]
It would serve you good and right—and Mother, too—if I was to tell Dad on you!
Darrell
Why, I’m Sam’s oldest friend. Don’t make a little fool of yourself!
Gordon
You are not his friend. You’ve always been hanging around cheating him—hanging around Mother!
Darrell
Keep still! What do you mean cheating him?
Gordon
I don’t know. But I know you aren’t his friend. And sometime I’m going to tell him I saw you—
Darrell
[With great seriousness now—deeply moved]
Listen! There are things a man of honor doesn’t tell anyone—not even his mother or father. You want to be a man of honor, don’t you?
[Intensely]
There are things we don’t tell, you and I!
[He has put his hand around Gordon’s shoulder impulsively]
This is my son! . . . I love him! . . .
Gordon
[Thinking—terribly torn]
Why do I like him now? . . . I like him awful! . . .
[Crying]
We?—who d’you mean?—I’ve got honor!—more’n you!—you don’t have to tell me!—I wasn’t going to tell Dad anyway, honest I wasn’t! We?—what d’you mean, we?—I’m not like you! I don’t want to be ever like you!
[There is the sound of a door being flung open and shut and Evans’ hearty voice]
Evans
[From the entrance hall]
Hello, everybody!
Darrell
[Slapping Gordon on the back]
Buck up, son! Here he is! Hide that boat or he’ll ask questions.
[Gordon runs and hides the boat under the sofa. When Evans enters, Gordon is entirely composed and runs to him joyfully. Evans has grown stouter, his face is heavy now, he has grown executive and used to command, he automatically takes charge wherever he is. He does not look his age except that his hair has grown scanty and there is a perceptible bald spot on top. He is expensively tailored]
Evans
[Hugging Gordon to him—lovingly]
How’s the old son? How’s the birthday coming along?
Gordon
Fine, Dad!
Evans
Hello, Ned! Isn’t this kid of mine a whopper for his age, though!
Darrell
[Smiling strainedly]
Yes.
[Writhing—thinking]
It hurts now! . . . to see my son his son! . . . I’ve had enough! . . . get out! . . . any excuse! . . . I can phone afterwards! . . . I’ll yell out the whole business if I stay! . . .
I was just going, Sam. I’ve got to step around and see a fellow who lives near—biologist.
[He has gone to the door]
Evans
[Disappointedly]
Then you won’t be here for lunch?
Darrell
[Thinking]
I’ll yell the truth into your ears if I stay a second longer . . . you damned lunatic! . . .
Can’t stay. Sorry. This is important. I’m sailing in a few days—lots to do—see you later, Sam. So long—Gordon.
Gordon
[As he goes out with awkward haste]
Good-bye—Uncle Ned.
[Thinking confusedly]
Why did I call him that when I said I never would? . . . I know . . . must be because he said he’s sailing and I’m, glad . . .
Evans
So long, Ned.
[Thinking—good-naturedly superior]
Ned and his biology! . . . He takes his hobby pretty seriously! . . .
[With satisfaction]
Well, he can afford to have hobbies now! . . . his investment with me has made him a pile. . . .
Where’s Mother, son?
Gordon
Out in the kitchen with Uncle Charlie.
[Thinking]
I hope he never comes back! . . . why did I like him then? . . . it was only for a second . . . I didn’t really . . . I never could! . . . why does he always call me Gordon as if he hated to? . . .
Evans
[Sitting down at left]
I hope lunch is ready soon. I’m hungry as the devil, aren’t you?
Gordon
[Absent-mindedly]
Yes, Dad.
Evans
Come over here and tell me about your birthday.
[Gordon comes over. Evans pulls him up on his lap]
How’d you like your presents? What’d you get from Uncle Ned?
Gordon
[Evasively]
They were all dandy.
[Suddenly]
Why was I named Gordon?
Evans
Oh, you know all about that—all about Gordon Shaw. I’ve told you time and again.
Gordon
You told me once he was Mother’s beau—when she was a girl.
Evans
[Teasingly]
What do you know about beaus? You’re growing up!
Gordon
Did Mother love him a lot?
Evans
[Embarrassedly]
I guess so.
Gordon
[Thinking keenly]
That’s why Darrell hates me being called Gordon . . . he knows Mother loved Gordon better’n she does him . . . now I know how to get back at him . . . I’ll be just like Gordon was and Mother’ll love me better’n him! . . .
And then that Gordon was killed, wasn’t he? Am I anything like him?
Evans
I hope you are. If when you go to college you can play football or row like Gordon did, I’ll—I’ll give you anything you ask for! I mean that!
Gordon
[Dreamily]
Tell me about him again, will you, Dad—about the time he was stroking the crew and the fellow who was Number Seven began to crack, and he couldn’t see him but he felt him cracking somehow, and he began talking back to him all the time and sort of gave him his strength so that when the race was over and they’d won Gordon fainted and the other fellow didn’t.
Evans
[With a fond laugh]
Why, you know it all by heart! What’s the use of my telling you?
Nina
[Comes in from the rear while they are talking. She comes forward slowly]
​[Thinking resentfully]
Does he love Sam more than he does me? . . . oh, no, he can’t! . . . but he trusts him more! . . . he confides in him more! . . .
Gordon
Did you ever used to fight fellows, Dad?
Evans
[Emharrassedly]
Oh, a little—when I had to.
Gordon
Could you lick Darrell?
Nina
[Thinking frightenedly]
Why does he ask that? . . .
Evans
[Surprised]
Your Uncle Ned? What for? We’ve always been friends.
Gordon
I mean, if you weren’t friends, could you?
Evans
[Boastfully]
Oh, yes, I guess so. Ned was never as strong as I was.
Nina
[Thinking contemptuously]
Ned is weak. . . .
[Then apprehensively]
But you’re getting too strong, Sam. . . .
Gordon
But Gordon could have licked you, couldn’t he?
Evans
You bet he could!
Gordon
[Thinking]
She must have loved Gordon better’n Dad even! . . .
Nina
[She comes forward to the chair at center, forcing a smile]
What’s all this talk about fighting? That’s not nice. For heaven’s sake, Sam, don’t encourage him—
Evans
[Grinning]
Never mind the women, Gordon. You’ve got to know how to fight to get on in this world.
Nina
[Thinking pityingly]
You poor booby! . . . how brave you are now! . . .
[Softly]
Perhaps you’re right, dear.
[Looking around]
Has Ned gone?
Gordon
[Defiantly]
Yes—and he’s not coming back—and he’s sailing soon!
Nina
[With a shudder]
Why does he challenge me that way? . . . and cling to Sam? . . . he must have seen Ned and me . . . he doesn’t offer to come to my lap . . . he used to . . . Ned was right . . . I’ve got to lie to him . . . get him back . . . here . . . on my lap! . . .
[With a sneer—to Evans]
I’m glad Ned’s gone. I was afraid he was going to be on our hands all day.
Gordon
[Eagerly, half-getting down from his father’s lap]
You’re glad—?
[Then cautiously thinking]
She’s cheating . . . I saw her kiss him. . . .
Nina
Ned’s getting to be an awful bore. He’s so weak. He can’t get started on anything unless he’s pushed.
Gordon
[Moving a little nearer—searching her face—thinking]
She doesn’t seem to like him so much . . . but I saw her kiss him! . . .
Evans
[Surprised]
Oh, come now, Nina, aren’t you being a little hard on Ned? It’s true he’s sort of lost his grip in a way but he’s our best friend.
Gordon
[Moving away from his father again—resentfully—thinking]
What’s Dad standing up for him to her for? . . .
Nina
[Thinking triumphantly]
That’s right, Sam . . . just what I wanted you to say!
[Boredly]
Oh, I know he is but he gets on my nerves hanging around all the time. Without being too rude, I urged him to get back to his work, and made him promise me he wouldn’t return for two years. Finally he promised—and then he became silly and sentimental and asked me to kiss him good-bye for good luck! So I kissed him to get rid of him! The silly fool!
Gordon
[Thinking—overjoyed]
Then! . . . that’s why! . . . that’s why! . . . and he’ll be gone two years! . . . oh, I’m so glad! . . .
[He goes to her and looks up into her face with shining eyes]
Mother!
Nina
Dear!
[She takes him up on her lap and hugs him in her arms]
Gordon
[Kisses her]
There!
[Triumphantly thinking]
That makes up for his kiss! . . . That takes it off her mouth. . . .
Evans
[Grinning]
Ned must be falling for you—in his old age!
[Then sentimentally]
Poor guy! He’s never married, that’s the trouble. He’s lonely. I know how he feels. A fellow needs a little feminine encouragement to help him keep his head up.
Nina
[Snuggling Gordon’s head against hers—laughing teasingly]
I think your hard-headed Dad is getting mushy and silly! What do you think, Gordon?
Gordon
[Laughing with her]
Yes, he’s mushy, Mother! He’s silly!
[He kisses her and whispers]
I’m going to be like Gordon Shaw, Mother!
[She hugs him fiercely to her, triumphantly happy]
Evans
[Grinning]
You two are getting too hard-boiled for me.
[He laughs. They all laugh happily together]
Nina
[Suddenly overcome by a wave of conscience-stricken remorse and pity]
Oh, I am hard on Ned! . . . poor dear generous Ned! ​. . . you told me to lie to your son against you . . . for my sake . . . I’m not worthy of your love! . . . I’m low and selfish! . . . but I do love you! . . . this is the son of our love in my arms! . . . oh, Mother God, grant my prayer that some day we may tell our son the truth and he may love his father! . . .
Gordon
[Sensing her thoughts, sits up in her lap and stares into her face, while she guiltily avoids his eyes—in fear and resentment]
[Thinking]
She’s thinking about that Darrell now! . . . I know! . . . she likes him too! . . . she can’t fool me! . . . I saw her kissing! . . . she didn’t think he was a silly fool then! . . . she was lying to Dad and me! . . .
[He pushes off her lap and backs away from her]
Nina
[Thinking frightenedly]
He read my thoughts! . . . I mustn’t even think of Ned when he’s around! . . . poor Ned! . . . no, don’t think of him! . . .
[Leaning forward toward Gordon with her arms stretched out entreatingly but adopting a playful tone]
Why, Gordon, what’s come over you? You jumped off my lap as though you’d sat on a tack!
[She forces a laugh]
Gordon
[His eyes on the floor—evasively]
I’m hungry. I want to see if lunch is nearly ready.
[He turns abruptly and runs out]
Evans
[In a tone of superior manly understanding, kindly but laying down the law to womanly weakness]
He’s sick of being babied, Nina. You forget he’s getting to be a big boy. And we want him to grow up a real he-man and not an old lady like Charlie.
[Sagaciously]
That’s what’s made Charlie like he is, I’ll bet. His mother never stopped babying him.
Nina
[Submissively—but with a look of bitter scorn at him]
Perhaps you’re right, Sam.
Evans
[Confidently]
I know I am!
Nina
[Thinking with a look of intense hatred]
Oh, Mother God, grant that I may some day tell this fool the truth! . . .
CURTAIN