CONFESSIONAL 
 
 And Other American Plays 
 
 BY 
 
 PERCIVAL WILDE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 
 1916 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1915 
 BY THE CENTURY COMPANY 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1915 
 BY MITCHELL KENNERLEY 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1915, 1916 
 BY PERCIVAL WILDE 
 
 All rights reserved, including that of translation into 
 foreign languages. 
 
 These plays in their printed form are designed for the 
 reading public only. All dramatic rights in them are fully 
 protected by copyright in the United States and Great Brit 
 ain, and no performance professional or amateur may be 
 given without the written permission of the author and the 
 payment of royalty. Communications may be addressed to 
 the author, care of Henry Holt and Company, 34 West 33rd 
 Street, New York City. 
 
 Published February, 1916 
 
 THE QUINN A BODEN CO. PRESS 
 RAHWAY, N. J. 
 
WALTER 
 
 MORE THAN BROTHER FRIEND 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TOGETHER WITH " THE SMILE OF RHADAMANTHOS," 
 AN EGYPTIAN MORALITY, Now FOR THE FIRST 
 (AND LAST) TIME ENGLISHED. 
 
 THE writer of one-act plays is in a peculiar 
 position. No other department of the drama 
 has been so long and so disastrously neglected. 
 The world s great one-act plays may be checked off 
 on the fingers of one hand. Schnitzler, Synge, per 
 haps Sudermann, and not more than one or two others 
 may claim that they have done work of more than 
 passing merit in this field ; but the list ends there, and 
 at that, it would be difficult to cite five titles with 
 out including plays whose right to figure in the illus 
 trious minority would be very seriously and very justly 
 questioned. 
 
 Where there are no standards, each must shift for 
 himself. The writer of one-act plays must venture 
 into uncharted seas. He must dare, as a man who 
 knows not on which side the dangers lie, with the full 
 knowledge that a mistake will be fatal. 
 
 Yet this is no unmitigated evil. He cannot profit 
 by the faults of the past ; but he can, nevertheless, com- 
 vii 
 
viii PREFACE 
 
 mit faults which others may avoid. It may be un 
 fortunate for the individual; it cannot be so for the 
 mass. In the last analysis bad writing is possibly as 
 useful as good writing. The sure pilot who first 
 steers a true course does not, perhaps, render so 
 great a service to his successors as the unlucky navi 
 gator who comes to grief on a hidden rock, and re 
 mains, for years afterwards, a warning of what not to 
 do. 
 
 To set a good example is excellent; but to set a 
 bad example for the future admonition of others is 
 an enduring benefit. Buoys mark dangers not safety. 
 The wake of him who has passed through unscathed 
 is but a ripple on the face of the waters, useless except 
 to his immediate followers. And the prudent voy 
 ager bears in mind that every passing gust also pro 
 duces a ripple, and locates the channel by guiding 
 between the wrecks on either side. 
 
 These premises, then, we take for granted: that the 
 one-act play is an independent art form; that it is 
 capable of producing effects totally foreign to the 
 longer drama; that the very special class of material 
 which naturally falls into the one-act play form can 
 in no other way be as potently dealt with. 
 
 With much of the same false reasoning that holds 
 that a story is the miniature of the novel, the one-act 
 play has been considered a condensation of a larger 
 work. Nothing could be more unjust. The one-act play 
 moves within bounds of which the writer of long plays -^. 
 knows nothing. It is not an abbreviated play; much 
 less, as a rule, is it the material out of which a longer 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 play can be made. Unity is its inspiration; unity is 
 its aim; unity is its soul. Unity is at once its main 
 spring and its escapement, its motive power and its 
 limitation. The swiftness of exposition, the brevity, 
 the homogeneity of effect which insists that every 
 word contribute towards that effect, these are neces 
 sities unknown to the more leisurely three- or four- 
 acter. The entire first act of a long play may be 
 given up to the narration of what has come before : the 
 one-act play must accomplish this in a few minutes. 
 If, in the course of the long play, the interest flag 
 momentarily, little is lost. Should this occur, even 
 for an instant, the one-act play is ruined. The long 
 play has dispensed with the Greek unities: the one- 
 act play is their slave. And not least important, the 
 long play is punctuated by intermissions, during which 
 the audience may reflect and digest: the one-act play 
 is denied their help. 
 
 A single effect, conveyed powerfully or delicately, 
 or poetically or rudely, or seriously or whimsically, 
 according to the character of the effect itself; an in 
 stantaneous arrest of attention, a continued grasp, and 
 relinquishment only after the curtain has fallen ; this 
 is the goal and the method of the true one-acter. 
 
 That it achieves its greatest effect on the stage, 
 rather than in print, goes without saying. " A play," 
 to quote Clayton Hamilton s comprehensive definition, 
 " is a story devised to be presented by actors on a stage 
 before an audience." Add to this its corollaries: that a 
 play is essentially based upon crisis, and that it is 
 very generally expressed in terms of emotion. Deduct 
 
x PREFACE 
 
 crisis, do away with emotion, and the play, as a 
 play, has ceased to exist. The two are the founda 
 tion of all drama: the mathematics of Euclid or the 
 philosophy of Kant, dramatized, would show both. 
 
 Crisis interpreted by emotion our realization of 
 the first, our feeling of the second, are increased when 
 we share them with others. Points which escape us 
 in the reading are obvious in the production ; and these 
 points, almost without exception, are those to which we 
 apply the adjective " dramatic." When the Puritani 
 cal mother, in " Fanny s First Play," turns to the 
 " daughter of joy " at the end of a violent scene with 
 the extremely human question, " Where did you buy 
 that white lace? " the audience chortles with delight at 
 the fidelity of the characterization: it is an exquisitely 
 true touch. In the printed play the line passes with 
 scant attention. At the best it may evoke a smile from 
 one of the unusual readers who can picture a situation 
 in his mind s eye. But that is all. 
 
 Yet there are some who argue loudly for the so- 
 called "closet drama"; that anomalous hybrid which 
 written in the form of a play is not meant for produc 
 tion. There are literary cuckoos who decline to de 
 posit their offspring on the properly labeled shelf, epic, 
 narrative, or what not; who brand their productions 
 " drama," and shun the only test of drama: the foot 
 lights; who, like our restaurants, serve us with shells 
 of familiar animals filled with a meat, which however 
 excellent in itself, belongs elsewhere. Wherefore the 
 discreet author, sensible of his own unworthiness to 
 hold forth on a subject which perplexes abler minds 
 
PREFACE xi 
 
 than his, terminates his preface with a morality re 
 cently deciphered from the hieratic by a learned Egyp 
 tologist, and here, for the first time, offered for the 
 delectation of a modern audience. 
 
 THE SMILE OF RHADAMANTHOS 
 
 So they came into the great hall, where sate the 
 three mighty judges of the dead, even Rhadamanthos, 
 and Minos, and Aeacos. 
 
 Then spake Rhadamanthos unto the first shade, and 
 he answered him in fear and trembling: 
 
 I, my lord, was an artist. 
 
 An artist? challenged Aeacos, and his deep voice 
 rumbled and echoed from the vaulted ceiling. 
 
 A maker of pictures, added the shade, and his 
 limbs quivered beneath him, aye, so that he scarce 
 could stand upright. 
 
 Then why dost thou tremble? demanded Minos. 
 
 And in that place where the truth must be spoken 
 the voice of the maker of pictures made answer: 
 
 I made pictures beautiful pictures but- 
 
 But? 
 
 But? 
 
 But? 
 
 They were not intended to be seen. 
 
 Then sighed the three judges, and Minos made a 
 mark in the great book which lay open before him. 
 
 And Rhadamanthos waved the first shade aside, and 
 turned unto the second: 
 
xii PREFACE 
 
 And what, in life, wast thou? 
 
 And the second made answer: 
 
 I, my lord, was an artist. 
 
 An artist? challenged Aeacos, and his terrible 
 voice echoed and rumbled from the vaulted ceiling. 
 
 A maker of music, added the shade, and his mus 
 cles were as wax when the fire burneth, aye, so that 
 he barely could stand upright. 
 
 Then why dost thou tremble? demanded Minos. 
 
 And in that place where the truth must be spoken 
 the voice of the maker of music made answer: 
 
 I made symphonies beautiful symphonies 
 but 
 
 But? 
 
 But? 
 
 But? 
 
 They were not intended to be heard. 
 
 Then sighed the three judges, and Minos made a 
 second mark in the great book which lay open before 
 him. 
 
 And Rhadamanthos waved the second shade aside, 
 and turned unto the third: 
 
 And what, in life, wast thou? 
 
 And the third shade made answer: 
 
 I, my lord, was an artist. 
 
 An artist ? challenged Aeacos, and the voice of him 
 echoed and re-echoed even as a voice of thunder from 
 the vaulted ceiling. 
 
 A maker of plays, added the shade, and his knees 
 were as a jelly, aye, his spine was as a slender reed when 
 the raging waters overwhelm it. 
 
PREFACE xiii 
 
 Then why dost thou tremble? demanded Minos. 
 
 And in that place where the truth must be spoken 
 the voice of the maker of plays made answer: 
 
 I made plays beautiful plays but 
 
 But? 
 
 -But? 
 
 But? 
 
 They were not intended to be acted. 
 
 Then sighed the three mighty judges, aye, sighed as 
 when the wind of autumn sweeps through a forest of 
 cedars. And Minos made so great a mark in the book 
 which lay open before him that his graphite was severed 
 asunder. 
 
 And then Rhadamanthos, chief of all the judges, 
 waved the unhappy three before him. 
 
 Thou, he spake, thou, the maker of things whose 
 essence was in being seen, and yet were not to be seen, 
 and thou, the maker of things whose essence was in 
 being heard, and yet were not to be heard, proceed to 
 the little room at the end of the hall. 
 
 And the miserable shades made obeisance. 
 
 There, spake Rhadamanthos, will you find the 
 shade of the great W. S. Gilbert, who, with the as 
 sistance of his Mikado, will determine the punishment 
 to fit your crime. I have spoken. 
 
 And treading mightily on the tail of a sleeping 
 thunderbolt, he sent for a messenger of ferocious as 
 pect to conduct the culprits to their doom. 
 
 Then turned Rhadamanthos unto the shade of the 
 maker of plays, whose teeth now chattered as if he 
 were about to make a curtain speech. 
 
xiv PREFACE 
 
 As for thee, spake Rhadamanthos, the maker of 
 things whose essence was to be acted, and yet were 
 not to be acted, who had the gift of creating life itself, 
 but who created only a sham and a mockery of life, 
 thy case will we judge ourselves. 
 
 So consulted Rhadamanthos with the other judges, 
 aye, even with Minos, who in life ruled over Crete, 
 and with Aeacos, son of Jupiter and Aegina. 
 
 And at length spake Rhadamanthos: 
 
 Thou, maker of plays (and the attentive Minos 
 wrote down each word of the inviolable decree), thou 
 wilt prepare for publication by the Hades Press a com 
 plete edition of thy writings. They will be issued for 
 subscribers only, on Japanese vellum, in twenty royal 
 octavo volumes, richly bound in genuine crushed levant, 
 top and side edges gilt, with blind tooling and inlaid 
 doublures by the shade of Clovis Eve. There will be 
 notes by twenty distinguished commentators, and there 
 will be an engraved portrait of the author as frontis 
 piece in each volume. I have spoken. 
 
 Then the shade of the amazed maker of plays, un 
 able to believe his ears, turned unto the mighty Rha 
 damanthos : 
 
 This, he asked, only this is to be my punishment? 
 
 Only this, spake Rhadamanthos. 
 
 I thank your excellencies, said the shade of the 
 maker of plays, and bowing low, he was led away. 
 
 Then smiled Rhadamanthos, aye, and Minos, the 
 just judge, and Aeacos, who in life erected the temple 
 of Zeus Panhellenius, also smi ******* 
 
PREFACE xv 
 
 Here, in the middle of a word, the palimpsest breaks 
 off. But learned Egyptologists who are familiar with 
 the publications of the Hades Press inform us that 
 the richly bound volumes are invariably printed in 
 invisible ink. 
 
 NEW YORK, 
 December, 1915. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CONFESSIONAL 9 i 
 
 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE .... 45 
 
 ACCORDING TO DARWIN . , . . . 77 
 
 A QUESTION OF MORALITY . . . . 117 v^ 
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 147 
 
CONFESSIONAL 
 A PLAY 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 ROBERT BALDWIN. 
 MARTHA, his wife. 
 JOHN, his son. 
 EVIE, his daughter. 
 MARSHALL. 
 A MAID. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 
 
 /T is a rather hot and sultry Sunday afternoon, 
 and the sun overhead and the baked clay under 
 foot are merciless. In the distance, lowering 
 clouds give promise of coming relief. And at the par 
 lor window of a trim little cottage the Baldwin family 
 is anxiously awaiting the return of its head. 
 
 JOHN, the son, an average young man of twenty- 
 seven, is smoking a pipe as philosophically as if this day 
 were in no whit more momentous than any other. But 
 his mother, trying to compose herself with her knitting, 
 has made little progress in the last half hour; and EVIE, 
 his sister, takes no pains to conceal her nervousness. 
 
 There is a tense pause. It seems as if none of them 
 likes to break the silence. For the tenth time in ten 
 minutes, EVIE goes to the window and looks out along 
 the sultry road. 
 
 MARTHA 
 It s time he was home. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 Yes, mother. 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 I do hope he hasn t forgotten his umbrella: he has 
 
 such a habit of leaving it behind him 
 
 3 
 
CONFESSIONAL 
 EVIE 
 
 Yes, mother. 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 It might rain. Don t you think so, Evie? (With 
 out waiting for an answer she goes to the window and 
 looks out anxiously.) The sky is so dark. (She 
 starts.) There was a flash of lightning! (JOHN 
 rises slowly, moves to a center table, and knocks the 
 ashes out of his pipe. His mother turns to him.) 
 John, run into your father s room and see that the win 
 dows are closed. There s a good boy. 
 
 JOHN 
 Right-o. (He goes.) 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (After a pause) 
 
 Mother. (There is no answer.) Mother! (MRS. 
 BALDWIN turns slowly.) What does Mr. Gresham 
 want with him? Has he done anything wrong? 
 
 MARTHA 
 (Proudly) 
 Your father? No, Evie. 
 
 EVIE 
 Then why did Mr. Gresham send for him? 
 
 MARTHA 
 He wanted to talk to him. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 5 
 
 EVIE 
 
 What about? Mr. Gresham has been arrested: 
 they re going to try him to-morrow. What c?.n he 
 want with father? 
 
 MARTHA 
 Your father will have to testify. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 But he s going to testify against Mr. Gresham. Why 
 should Mr. Gresham want to see him? 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 I don t know, Evie. You know, your father doesn t 
 say much about his business affairs. (She pauses.) I 
 didn t know there was anything wrong with the bank 
 until I saw it in the papers. Your father wouldn t 
 tell me to draw my money out he thought it wasn t 
 loyal to Mr. Gresham. (EviE nods.) I did it of my 
 own accord against his wishes when I suspected 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (After a pause) 
 
 Do you think that father had anything to do with 
 with (67*6- does not like to say it.) 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 With the wrecking of the bank? You know him 
 better than that, Evie. 
 
6 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 EVIE 
 
 But did he know what was going on? You know 
 what the papers are saying 
 
 MARTHA 
 They haven t been fair to him, Evie. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 Perhaps not. But they said he must have been a 
 fopl not to know. They said that only he could have 
 known he and Mr. Gresham. Why didn t he stop 
 it? 
 
 MARTHA 
 He was acting under Mr. Gresham s orders. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 ( Contemptuously ) 
 Mr. Gresham s orders ! Did he have to follow them ? 
 
 MARTHA 
 (After a pause) 
 
 Evie, I don t believe your father ever did a wrong 
 thing in his life not if he knew it was wrong. He 
 found out by accident found out what Mr. Gresham 
 was doing. 
 
 EVIE 
 How do you know that? 
 

 w 
 
 CONFESSIONAL 7 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 I don t know it: I suspect it something he said. 
 (Eagerly.) You see, Evie, he cant have done any 
 thing wrong. They haven t indicted him. 
 
 EVIE 
 (Slowly) 
 
 No. They didn t indict him because they want 
 him to testify against Mr. Gresham. That s little con 
 solation, mother. 
 
 (JOHN re-enters.) 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Seizing the relief) 
 Were the windows open, John? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Shortly) 
 
 I ve closed them. (He crosses to the table, takes up 
 his pipe, and refills it.) Look here, mater: what does 
 Gresham want with the governor? 
 
 EVIE 
 
 ( Nodding ) 
 I ve just been asking that. 
 
 MARTHA 
 I don t know, John. 
 
8 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Didn t you ask him? (As she does not answer.) 
 Well? 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 Yes, I asked him. He didn t say, John. (Anx 
 iously.) I don t think he knew himself. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (After an instant s thought) 
 I was talking to the assistant cashier yesterday. 
 
 EVIE 
 Donovan? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Yes, Donovan. I saw him up at the Athletic Club. 
 He said that nobody had any idea that there was any 
 thing wrong until the crash came. Donovan had been 
 there eight years. He thought he was taken care of 
 for the rest of his life. He had gotten married on the 
 strength of it. And then, one morning, there was a 
 sign up on the door. It was like a bolt out of a clear 
 sky. 
 
 EVIE 
 And father? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 He says the governor must have known. He ll swear 
 nobody else did. You see, father was closer to Gresham 
 
CONFESSIONAL 9 
 
 than anyone else. That puts him in a nice position, 
 doesn t it? 
 
 MARTHA 
 What do you mean, John? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 The governor the only witness against John Gresham 
 and me named after him! John Gresham Baldwin, 
 at your service ! 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 Your father will do his duty, John, no matter what 
 comes of it. 
 
 JOHN 
 (Shortly) 
 
 I know it. And I m not sure but what it s right. 
 (They look at him inquiringly.} There s John 
 Gresham, grow r n rich in twenty years, and the gover 
 nor pegging along as his secretary at sixty dollars a 
 week! 
 
 MARTHA 
 Your father never complained. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 No; that s just the pity of it. He didn t complain. 
 Well, he ll have his chance to-morrow. He ll go on 
 the stand, and when he s through, they ll put John 
 
io CONFESSIONAL 
 
 Gresham where he won t be able to hurt anybody for 
 a while. Wasn t satisfied with underpaying his em 
 ployes: had to rob his depositors! Serves him jolly 
 well right! 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Rather timidly) 
 
 I don t think your father would like you to talk that 
 way, John. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Shrugs his shoulders with a contemptuous: 
 "Humph!") 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 Your father has nothing against Mr. Gresham. He 
 will tell the truth nothing but the truth. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Did you think I expected him to lie? Not father! 
 He ll tell the truth : just the truth. It ll be plenty ! 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (At the window) 
 There s father now! 
 
 (There is the dick of a latchkey outside. 
 EVIE makes for the door.) 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 Evie! You stay here: let me talk to him first. 
 (MARTHA hurries out. JOHN and EVIE 
 look at each other.) 
 
CONFESSIONAL n 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Wonder what Gresham had to say to him? (EviE 
 shrugs her shoulders. He turns away to the window.) 
 It s started to rain. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 Yes. 
 
 (There is a pause. Suddenly JOHN crosses 
 to the door, and flings it open.) 
 
 JOHN 
 Hullo, dad! 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Coming in, followed by MARTHA) 
 How are you, my boy? (He shakes hands with 
 JOHN.) Evie! (He kisses her.) 
 
 MARTHA 
 You are sure your shoes aren t wet, Robert? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Shaking his head) 
 I took the car. Not a drop on me. See? 
 
 (He passes his hands over his sleeves. He 
 goes to a chair: 9&s. There is an awkward 
 pause.) 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Well, dad? Don t you think it s about time you 
 told us something? 
 
12 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Told you something? I don t understand, John. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 People have been talking about you saying 
 things 
 
 BALDWIN 
 What kind of things, John? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 You can imagine: rotten things. And I couldn t 
 contradict them. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 V7K m>- Jc :. / ; 
 
 JOHN 
 Because I didn t know. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Did you hdve to know ? Wasn t it enough that you 
 knew your father? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (After a pause) 
 I beg your pardon, sir. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 It was two days before the smash-up that I found out 
 what Gresham was doing. (He pauses. They are 
 
CONFESSIONAL 13 
 
 listening intently.) I told him he would have to make 
 good. He said he couldn t 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (As he does not continue) 
 And what happened? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 I told him he would have to do the best he could 
 and the first step would be to close the bank. He 
 didn t want to do that. 
 
 M VRTHA 
 But he did it. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 I made him do it. He was angry very angry, but 
 I had the whip hand. 
 
 EVIE 
 The papers didn t mention that. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 I didn t think it was necessary to tell them. 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 But you let your name rest under a cloud mean 
 while. 
 
H CONFESSIONAL 
 
 y 
 BALDWIN 
 
 It will be cleared to-morrow, won t it? (He 
 pauses. ) To-day Gresham sent for me. The trial be 
 gins in twenty-four hours. I m the only witness against 
 him. He asked you can guess what 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Indignantly) 
 
 He wanted you to lie to save his skin, eh ? Wanted 
 you to perjure yourself? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 That wouldn t be necessary, John. He just wanted 
 me to have an attack of poor memory. If I tell all I 
 know, John Gresham will go to jail no power on 
 earth can save him from it. But he wants me to for 
 get a little just the essential things. When they ques 
 tion me I can answer " I don t remember." They can t 
 prove I do remember. And there you are. 
 
 JOHN 
 It would be a lie, dad! 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Smiling) 
 
 Of course. But it s done every day. And they 
 couldn t touch me any more than they could convict 
 him. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 15 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Quivering with indignation) 
 How dared he how dared he ask such a thing ! 
 
 EVIE 
 
 ^.*...*k. .ha yoa fay, father? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Smiling, and raising his eyes to JOHN S) 
 Well, son, what would you have said ? 
 
 JOHN 
 I d have told him to go to the devil! 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Nodding) 
 I did. 
 
 JOHN 
 Bully for you, governor! 
 
 M.- .RT IA 
 
 ,**djf) 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 I didn t use your words, John. He s too old a friend 
 of mine for that. But I didn t mince matters any. He 
 understood what I meant. 
 
16 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 EVIE 
 And what did he say then ? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 There wasn t much to say. You see, he wasn t sur 
 prised. He s known me for thirty-five years, and, well, 
 (with simple pride) anybody who s known me for 
 thirty-five years doesn t expect me to haggle with my 
 conscience. If it had been anybody else than John 
 Gresham I would have struck him across the face. But 
 John Gresham and I were boys together. We worked 
 side by side. And I ve been in his employ ever since 
 he started in for himself. He is desperate he doesn t 
 know what he is doing or he wouldn t have offered 
 me money. 
 
 JOHN 
 (Furious) 
 Offered you money, dad? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 He d put it aside, ready for the emergency. If they 
 don t convict him, he ll hand it over to me. The law 
 can t stop him. But if I live until to-morrow night, 
 they will convict him! (He sighs.) God knows I 
 
 want - no share in bringing about his punishment 
 
 (He breaks f^ff. . EVIE pats his hand silently.) Young 
 man and old man, I ve worked with him or for him 
 the best part of my life. I m loyal to him I ve always 
 
CONFESSIONAL 17 
 
 been loyal to him but when John Gresham ceases to 
 be an honest man, John Gresham and I part company ! 
 
 , --ng softly) 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 I ve got only a few years to live, but I ll live those 
 as I ve lived the rest of my life. I ll go to my grave 
 clean! (He rises presently, goes to the window, and 
 looks out.) The rain s stopped, hasn t it? 
 
 FV1 
 
 (F //c-ir/; iiiin and taking his hand) 
 Ytr : tl-ex. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 It ll be a fine day to-morrow. 
 
 ( There is a pause. ) 
 
 JOHN 
 Dad. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 What did Gresham offer you? 
 

 
 i8 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Simply) 
 
 A hundred thousand dollars. 
 
 EVIE 
 What?! 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 Robert ; 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 He put it aside for me without anybody knowing it. 
 It s out of his private fortune, he says. It s not the 
 depositors money as if that made any difference. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (As if hypnotized) 
 He offered you a hundred thousand dollars? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Smiling at her amazement) 
 
 I could have had it for the one word " Yes " 
 
 even for nodding my head or a look of the eyes. 
 
 JOHN 
 How how do you know he meant it? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 His word is good. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 19 
 
 JOHX 
 
 Even now? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 He never lied to me, John. (He pauses.) I sup 
 pose my eyes must have shown something I didn t feel. 
 He noticed it. He unlocked a drawer and showed me 
 the hundred thousand. 
 
 JOHN 
 In cash 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 In thousand-dollar bills. They were genuine: I 
 examined them. 
 
 EVIE 
 (Slowly) 
 
 And for that he wants you to say " I don t remem 
 ber." 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Smiling) 
 Just that: three words only. 
 
 JOHN 
 But you won t? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Shaking his head) 
 
 Those three words would choke me if I tried to speak 
 them. For some other man, perhaps, it would be easy. 
 
20 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 But for me? All of my past would rise up and strike 
 me in the face. It would mean to the world that for 
 years I had been living a lie : that I was not the honor 
 able man I thought I was.. When John Gresham 
 offered me money, I was angry. But when I rejected 
 it, and he showed no surprise, then I was pleased. It 
 was a compliment, don t you think so? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (!. iwly) 
 Rather an expe.n.1-. compliment. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Eh? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 A compliment which cost you a hundred thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 A compliment which was worth a hundred thou 
 sand dollars. I ve never had that much money to spend 
 in my life, John, but if I had I couldn t imagine a finer 
 way to spend it. 
 
 JOHN 
 (Slowly) 
 
 Yes. I c . impose so. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 21 
 
 MARTHA 
 (After a pause) 
 Will the depositors lose much, Robert? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 {Emphatically.) 
 
 The depositors will not lose a cent. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (Surprised) 
 But the papers said 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Interrupting) 
 
 They had to print something : they guessed. / know. 
 / tell you. 
 
 MARTHA 
 But you never said so before. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 I left that for Gresham. It will come out to 
 morrow. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Why to-morrow? Why didn t you say so before? 
 The papers asked you often enough. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Nothing forced me to answer, John. 
 
22 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 JOHN 
 
 That wasn t your real reason, was it, dad? You 
 knew the papers would keep right on calling you 
 names. (BALDWIN does not answer. JOHN S face 
 lights up with sudden understanding.} You wanted to 
 let Gresham announce it himself: because it will be 
 something in his favor! Eh? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Yes. . . . We were able to save, something from 
 the wreck, Gresham and I. It was more than I had 
 expected almost twice as much and with what 
 Gresham has it will be enough. 
 
 EVIE 
 Even wifboi i. i.v:; idred thousand? 
 
 (BALDWIN does not answer.) 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Insistently) 
 
 Without the money that Gresham had put away 
 for you? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Yes. I didn t know there was the hundred thou 
 sand until to-day. Gresham didn t tell me. We 
 reckoned without it. 
 
 EVIE 
 Oh! 
 
CONFESSIONAL 23 
 
 JOHN 
 And you made both ends meet? 
 
 ^ V 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Quite easily. (He smiles.) Marshall is running 
 the re-organization; Marshall of the Third National. 
 He hasn t the least idea that it s going to turn out so 
 well. 
 
 (There is a pause.) 
 
 JOHN 
 They re going to punish Gresham, aren t they? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 I m afraid so. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 What for? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Misappropriating the funds of the 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Interrupting) 
 
 Oh, I know that. But what crime has he com 
 mitted ? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 That s a crime, John. 
 
24 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 EVIE 
 But if nobody loses anything by it? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 It s a crime nevertheless. 
 
 JOHN 
 And they re going to punish him for it! 
 
 BALDWIN 
 They can t let him go, John. He s too conspicuous. 
 
 JOHN 
 Do you think that s right, governor? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 My opinion doesn t matter, John. 
 
 JOHN 
 But what do you think? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 I think I think that I m sorry for John Gresham 
 terribly sorry. 
 
 JOHN 
 (Slowly) 
 
 It s nothing but a technicality, dad. Nobody loses 
 a cent. It s rather hard on Gresham, I say. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 25 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (After a pause) 
 Yes, John. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (Timidly) 
 
 Would it be such an awful thing, father, if you let 
 him off? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Smiling) 
 I wish I could, Evie. But I m not the judge. 
 
 EVIE 
 No, but 
 
 BALDWIN 
 But what? 
 
 EVIE 
 You re the only witness against him. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Nonplussed) 
 Evie! 
 
 JOHN 
 She s right, governor. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 You too, John ? 
 
26 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 JOHN 
 
 It s going to be a nasty mess if they put John 
 Gresham in jail with your own son named after him! 
 It s going to be pleasant for me! John Gresham 
 Baldwin ! 
 
 MARTHA 
 (After a pause) 
 
 Robert, I m not sure I understood what you said 
 before. What did Mr. Gresham want you to do for 
 him? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Get him off to-morrow. 
 
 MARTHA 
 You could do that? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes. 
 
 MARTHA 
 How? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 By answering " I don t remember " when they ask 
 me dangerous questions. 
 
 MARTHA 
 Oh! And you do remember? 
 
CONFESSIONAL 27 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes. Nearly everything. 
 
 JOHN 
 No matter what they ask you? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 I i an always refresh my memory. You see, I have 
 
 JOHN 
 Hut without those notes you wouldn t remember? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 What do you mean, John? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Without answering) 
 
 As a matter of fact, you will have to rely on your 
 notes nearly altogether, won t you? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Everybody else does the same thing. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Then it won t be far from the truth if you say " I 
 don t remember " ? 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 I don t see that Mr. Gresham is asking so much of 
 you. 
 
28 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Martha ! 
 
 MARTHA 
 Robert, I m as honorable as you are 
 
 BALDWIN 
 That goes without saying, Martha. 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 It doesn t seem right to me to send an old friend 
 to jail. (As he speaks she holds up hrr hand.) Now 
 don t interrupt me! I ve been thinking. The day 
 John was baptized: when Mr. Gresham stood sponsor 
 for him: how proud we were! And when we came 
 home from the church you said do you remember 
 what you said, Robert? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 No. What was it? 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 You said, " Martha, may our son always live up to 
 the name which we have given him ! " Do you re 
 member that? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Yes dimly. 
 
 JOHN 
 Ha! Only dimly, governor? 
 
CONFESSIONAL 29 
 
 BALDWIN 
 What do you mean, John? 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Giving JOHN no opportunity to answer) 
 It would be sad very sad if the name of John 
 Gresham, our son s name, should come to grief through 
 you, Robert. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (After a pause) 
 
 Martha, are you telling me to accept the bribe money 
 that John Gresham offered me? 
 
 EVIE 
 Why do you call it bribe money, father? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Bitterly) 
 
 Why indeed? Gresham had a prettier name for it. 
 He said that he had underpaid me all these years. 
 You know, I was getting only sixty dollars a week 
 when the crash came 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Impatiently) 
 Yes, yes? 
 
30 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 He said a hundred thousand represented the dif 
 ference between what he had paid me and what I had 
 actually been worth to him. 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 That s no less than true, Robert. You ve worked 
 for him very faithfully. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 He said that if he had paid me what he should have, 
 I would have put by more than a hundred thousand 
 by now. 
 
 JOHN 
 That s so, isn t it, dad? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Who knows ? I never asked him to raise my salary. 
 When he raised it it was of his own accord. ( There is 
 a pause. He looks around.) Well, what do you think 
 of it, Evie? 
 
 EVIE 
 
 (Hesitantly) 
 If you go on the stand to-morrow 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes? 
 
CONFESSIONAL 31 
 
 EVIE 
 And they put John Gresham in jail, what will people 
 
 say? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 They will say I have done my duty, Evie; no more 
 and no less. 
 
 EVIE 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Why, what should they say ? 
 
 EVIE 
 
 / don t think so, of course, but other people might 
 say that you had turned traitor to your best friend. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 You don t mean that, Evie? 
 
 EVIE 
 
 When they find out that they haven t lost any money 
 when John Gresham tells them that he will pay back 
 every cent then they won t want him to go to jail. 
 They ll feel sorry for him. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes, I belirve that. I hope so. 
 
32 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 JOHN 
 
 And they won t feel too kindly disposed towards 
 the man who helps put him in jail. 
 
 MARTHA 
 They ll say you went back on an old friend, Robert. 
 
 JOHN 
 When you pull out your notes in court, to be sure 
 
 of sending him to jail ! 
 
 (He breaks off with a snort.) 
 
 EVIE 
 
 And Mr. Gresham hasn t done anything really 
 wrong. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 It s a technicality, that s what it is. Nobody loses a 
 cent. Nobody wants to see him punished. 
 
 EVIE 
 Except you, father. 
 
 JOHN . 
 
 Yes. And you re willing to jail the man after 
 whom you named your son! 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (After a pause) 
 I believe in being merciful, Robert. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 33 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Merciful ? 
 
 MARTHA 
 Mr. Gresham has always been very good to you. 
 
 ( There is another pause. Curiously enough, 
 they do not seem to be able to meet each 
 other s eyes.) 
 
 ^\bf^ 
 
 MARTHA 
 Ah, well! What are you going to do now, Robert? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 What do you mean ? 
 
 MARTHA 
 You have been out of work since the bank closed. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Shrugging his shoulders) 
 Oh, I ll find a position. 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Shaking her head) 
 At your age ? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 It s the man that counts. 
 
34 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 MARTHA 
 Yes. You said that a month ago. 
 
 JOHN 
 I heard from Donovan 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Quickly) 
 What did you hear? 
 
 JOHN 
 He s gone with the Third National, you know. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes; he s helping with the re-organization. 
 
 JOHN 
 They wouldn t take you on there 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 Their staff was full. They couldn t very well offer 
 me a position as a clerk. 
 
 JOHN 
 That was what they told you. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Wasn t it true? 
 
CONFESSIONAL 35 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Shakes his head) 
 
 Marshall said 4re wouldn t employ a man who was 
 just as guilty as John Gresham. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 But I m not! 
 
 JOHN 
 Who knows it? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Everybody will to-morrow ! 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Will they believe you? Or will they think you re 
 trying to save your own skin ? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 I found out only a day before the smash. 
 
 JOHN 
 Who will believe that? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 They will have to! 
 
 JOHN 
 
 How will you make them? I m afraid you ll find 
 that against you wherever you go, governor. Your 
 
36 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 testifying against John Gresham won t make things any 
 better. If you ever get another job, it will be with him! 
 (This is a startling idea to BALDWIN, who shows his 
 surprise.) If Gresham doesn t go to jail, he ll start in 
 business again, won t he ? And he can t offer you any 
 thing less than a partnership. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 A partnership? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (With meaning) 
 
 With the hundred thousand capital you could put 
 in the business, dad. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 John! 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Of course, the capital doesn t matter. He ll owe you 
 quite a debt of gratitude besides. 
 
 ( There is a pause. ) 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 A hundred thousand would mean a great deal to us, 
 Robert. If you don t find a position soon John will 
 have to support us. 
 
 JOHN 
 On thirty dollars a week, dad. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 37 
 
 EVIF 
 That won t go very far. 
 
 MARTHA 
 It s not fair to John. 
 
 JOHN * 
 
 (Angrily) 
 Oh, don t bother about me. 
 
 (EviE begins to weep.) 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Look here, governor, you ve said nothing to the 
 papers. If you say nothing more to-morrow what does 
 it amount to but sticking to your friend? It s the 
 square thing to do he d do as much for you. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Looks appealingly from one face to another. They 
 
 are averted. Then : ) 
 
 You you want me to take this money ? ( There is 
 no answer.) Say "Yes," one of you. (StiU no an- 
 swer.) Or "No." (A long pause. Finally) I could 
 n t go into partnership with Gresham. 
 
 V rctinptly) 
 Why not? 
 
38 CONFESSIONS 
 
 EAU IN 
 People wouldn t t n . iiim. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Then you rould go into business with someone else, 
 dad. A hundred thousand is a lot of money. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Walks to the window. Looks out) 
 God knows I never thought this day would come! 
 I know I know no matter how you try to excuse it 
 I know that if I take this money I do a dishonorable 
 thing. And you know it! You, and you, and you! 
 All of you ! Come, admit it ! 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Resolutely) 
 Nobody 11 ever hear of it. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 But amongst ourselves, John ! Whatever we are to 
 the world, let us be honest with each other, the four 
 of us! Well ? (His glance travels from JOHN to EVIE, 
 whose head is bowed; from her to his wlje, who is 
 apparently busied with her knitting. He raises MAR 
 THA S head: looks into the eyes. He shudders.) 
 Shams ! Liars ! Hypocrites ! Thieves ! And I no bet 
 ter than any of you! We have seen our souls naked, 
 and they stink to Almighty Heaven ! Well, why don t 
 you answer me? 
 
CONFESSIONAL 39 
 
 MARTHA 
 (Feebly) 
 It s not wrong, Robert. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 It s not right. 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Facing him steadily) 
 A hundred thousand is a lot of money, dad. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Nodding slowly) 
 You can look into my eyes now, my son, can t you? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 (Without moving) 
 
 Dad: why did you refuse? Wasn t it because you 
 were afraid of what we d say? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (After a long pause) 
 Yes, John. 
 
 JOHN 
 Well, nobody will ever know it. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Except the four of us. 
 
40 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 JOHN 
 Yes father. 
 
 (Abruptly they separate. EviE weeps in 
 silence. MARTHA, being less emotional, blows 
 her nose noisily, and fumbles with her knit 
 ting. JOHN, having nothing better to do, 
 scowls out of the window, and BALDWIN, 
 near the fireplace, clenches and unclenches his 
 hands. ) 
 
 JOHN 
 
 Someone s coming. 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Raising her head) 
 Who is it? 
 
 JOHN 
 
 I can t see. (With sudden apprehension.) It looks 
 like Marshall. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Marshall? 
 
 (The door-bell rings. They are motionless 
 as a MAID enters at one side and goes out the 
 other. The MAID re-enters.) 
 
 THE MAID 
 A gentleman to see you, sir. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 41 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Pulling himself together) 
 Who, me? 
 
 THE MAID 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 (She hands him a card on a salver.) 
 
 BALDWIN 
 It is Marshall. 
 
 MARTHA 
 The President of the Third National? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes. What does he want here ? 
 
 THE MAID 
 
 Shall I show him in, sir? 
 
 BALDWIN 
 Yes. Yes. By all means. 
 
 (The MAID goes out.) 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Crossing to him quickly) 
 
 Robert ! Be careful of what you say : you re to go on 
 the stand to-morrow. 
 
42 CONFESSIONAL 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Nervously) 
 Yes, yes. I ll look out. 
 
 (The MAID re-enters, opening the door for 
 MARSH ALL .) 
 
 MARSHALL 
 
 (Coming into the room very buoyantly) 
 Well, well, spending the afternoon indoors? How 
 are you, Mrs. Baldwin? (He shakes hands cordially.) 
 And you, Baldwin ? 
 
 MARTHA 
 We were just going out. Come, Evie. 
 
 MARSHALL 
 
 Oh, you needn t go on my account. You can hear 
 what I have to say. (He turns to the head of the 
 family.) Baldwin, if you feel like coming around to 
 the Third National some time this week, you ll find a 
 position waiting for you. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 (Thunderstruck) 
 Do you mean that, Mr. Marshall ? 
 
 MARSHALL 
 (Smiling) 
 
 I wouldn t say it if I didn t. (He continues more 
 seriously.) I was in to see Gresham this afternoon. 
 
CONFESSIONAL 43 
 
 He told me about the offer he had made you. But he 
 knew that no amount of money would make you do 
 something you thought wrong. Baldwin, he paid you 
 the supreme compliment: rather than go to trial with 
 you to testify against him, he confessed. 
 
 BALDWIN 
 
 (Sinking into a chair) 
 Confessed ! J 
 
 MARSHALL 
 
 Told the whole story. (He turns to MARTHA.) I 
 can only say to you what every man will be saying 
 to-morrow: how highly I honor and respect your hus 
 band ! How sincerely 
 
 MARTHA 
 
 (Seizing his hand piteously) 
 Please ! Please ! Can t you see he s crying ? 
 
 THE CURTAIN FALLS SLOWLY 
 
 \ 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 AN UNROMANTIC COMEDY 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 BLANCHE. 
 
 RALPH. 
 
 BELDEN. 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 r j rO call her pretty, and say no more, would be 
 
 I an insult. She is young, twenty or twenty- 
 one, and the determined chin, the challenging 
 eyes, the resolute mouth, bespeak character first beauty 
 afterwards. One inight describe the face by saying that 
 it is beautiful as a matter of course because there is 
 so much else to it, because intelligence, comprehension, 
 sympathy, beautify the features in which they reside. 
 
 Aristocrat? Not in the sense that the word was once 
 used. She is the healthy, high-class American girl, who 
 cares less for her ancestors than for her descendants. She 
 will cheer herself hoarse at a football game in the after 
 noon, and forget the world and all else in the magic 
 of a symphony in the evening because she thinks she 
 understands both and understands neither and en 
 joys life excellently well anyhow. 
 
 The captiously inclined will lay weight upon her 
 frivolities, for, being a healthy animal, she must have 
 her play. The over-educated, for whose opinion no 
 one cares, will say she is superficial which is per 
 fectly true. And the superficial, whose opinion every 
 one repeats, will say that she is exceedingly good com 
 pany which is quite as true. But that is as it 
 should be. 
 
 She has intimate friends, whom she changes with 
 47 
 
48 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 commendable regularity, and she has enemies, whom she 
 hates whole-heartedly and with abiding satisfaction. 
 And she is human , very, very human. 
 
 As the curtain rises she is sitting on a sofa in a 
 pleasant corner just outside of the ballroom in which 
 eighty or a hundred couples are conscientiously 
 threading the mazes of the latest modern dance. 
 Through the open doorway come attenuated strains of 
 music and the rustle of silk and the shuffle of danc 
 ing slippers and the eddying hum of chatter. But she 
 is listening to none of these. She is listening to the 
 very earnest young man beside her. And she feels 
 something of pity and something of resentment and 
 more than something of understanding. For RALPH 
 is certainly not an unattractive fellow, and when he 
 speaks of love, as he has been doing for the last few 
 minutes, his voice has gentle inflections and subtle 
 catches which are decidedly pleasing not least to the 
 girl who is the object of his affection. He has just 
 asked her a question the question and she pauses be 
 fore replying. He whispers: 
 
 RALPH 
 Well, Blanche? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 (Shaking her head) 
 Ralph, it s too late. 
 
 RALPH 
 But 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 49 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 I didn t intend to tell you so soon: I m engaged to 
 him. 
 
 RALPH 
 Engaged ? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 (Looking away) 
 For the last month. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Oh, I thought so! I suspected it! I knew that 
 would happen! 
 
 * 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 Why, Ralph! 
 
 RALPH 
 (Bitterly) 
 
 I never had a chance. I should have known it from 
 the start! When you had to choose between us, be 
 tween me and my employer, between the little I 
 offered you and a town house and a country house 
 and 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 (Interrupting indignantly) 
 Ralph ! How dare you ! 
 
50 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Oh, I know you don t think of money, but it makes 
 a difference. It s got to make a difference. 
 
 BLANCHE 
 It makes no difference here, Ralph. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 No? We re pretty good friends, aren t we? Can 
 you look at me and tell me 
 
 BLANCHE 
 (Interrupting) 
 
 That I would marry him if he didn t have a cent? 
 Yes. You don t know the man, Ralph. You don t 
 give him credit for what he has. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 After I ve worked for him for four years? I give 
 him credit, never fear! Two millions or perhaps 
 three 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 That was not what I meant you know that. He 
 is an exceptional man a big man a just man 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Who will treat you more as his daughter than his 
 wife. He s old enough, isn t he ? 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 51 
 
 BLANCHE 
 That s not fair, Ralph. He s thirty-seven. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Ten years older than I. Blanche, Blanche, won t 
 you listen to me? (She sighs. He seizes the oppor 
 tunity.) Don t you remember? Two years ago? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 Of course I remember, Ralph. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 That was before you had met Belden. You said you 
 would marry me. 
 
 BLANCHE 
 I meant it then. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 So so things have changed? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 (Slowly) 
 Yes, Ralph. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 I suppose I was a fool. I wasn t making much: 
 still less than I am making now, and I didn t see how 
 I could marry you and keep my self-respect. 
 
52 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 BLANCHE 
 I would have been willing. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 I knew that: you said so then. But I didn t dare. 
 I didn t feel it was the right thing by you. I felt the 
 only fair thing to do was to release you from your 
 engagement. 
 
 BLANCHE 
 I didn t ask you to do it, Ralph. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 No. (He pauses.) Blanche, can t we go back? 
 Back to where we left off? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 After I am engaged to marry another man? 
 
 RALPH 
 Whom you don t love. 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 Whom I do love. . . . Ralph, even if it hurts you, 
 make up your mind that I love him, the man he is, even 
 more than I ever loved you. (She pauses.) Be a good 
 loser, Ralph. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 The flowers, the automobiles, the opera they had 
 nothing to do with it ? You know, when we went out 
 together, you and I, we rode in the street cars. 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 53 
 
 BLANCHE 
 I enjoyed myself just as much, Ralph. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 I wonder! If I had had money! If I had been able 
 to offer you what he offers you 
 
 BLANCHE 
 You would have married me two years ago. 
 
 RALPH 
 Yes: and you would marry me to-day. 
 
 (The tall, powerful figure of GEOFFREY 
 BELDEN has appeared in the doorway. Mas 
 terful, self-contained, but giving the impres 
 sion of immense reserve force, he enters as 
 if he were looking for a quiet place to idle 
 away a few minutes. A self-made man, if 
 ever there was one, with the confidence, the 
 absolute assurance that comes with success 
 written large over his features. RALPH S 
 voice catches his ear. He turns toward him. 
 Then, as he gathers the drift of his words, 
 he becomes motionless and listens listens 
 shamelessly. 
 
 His entrance has been unobserved: the 
 others are intent in their conversation.) 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Oh, I know how fair and square you are. I know 
 how little you care about such things. But somewhere, 
 
54 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 somewhere in the depths of your soul something is 
 saying to you, " I am marrying a millionaire! He is 
 Ralph s employer. He can buy out Ralph a dozen 
 times, a hundred times, and never feel it. I am doing 
 well for myself ! " 
 
 BLANCHE 
 (Indignantly) 
 If you think that 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Interrupting) 
 
 I know that s not why you accepted him, but it 
 counted it had to count. When you spent an even 
 ing with him you enjoyed it, but you didn t stop to 
 figure out how much of that enjoyment came from the 
 things his money gave you. You left the house in the 
 automobile his money placed at your service. You 
 enjoyed the play, because his money bought the best 
 seats in the theater. You had a little dinner afterwards, 
 in the most expensive restaurant he could find. You 
 had a perfect evening. When you thanked him for it, 
 you meant it. But you didn t say to yourself " His 
 money has given me nine-tenths of it and I enjoyed 
 his company of course" You didn t stop to think 
 that you would have enjoyed such an evening with 
 any man. 
 
 BLANCHE 
 (Rather sharply) 
 Ralph, why do you say this to me? 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 55 
 
 RALPH 
 Why not? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 It s silly. (He tries to interrupt. She will not 
 allow it.) I am not a child. I know why I m marry 
 ing him you don t. (He laughs derisively.) You re 
 making a fool of yourself, Ralph ! 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Bitterly) 
 What does it matter? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 (Rising angrily) 
 
 A woman can t even respect a man who does that! 
 (She sweeps out of the room magnificently. 
 RALPH hesitates; then starts to follow her. 
 BELDEN S powerful figure abruptly inter 
 poses itself.) 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Starting violently) 
 You! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Nodding calmly) 
 Quite so. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 You ve been listening? 
 
56 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 BELDEN 
 I beg your pardon ? 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Oh, don t beat around the bush! You ve been lis 
 tening at the door ? 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Pleasantly) 
 Eavesdropping ? Yes. 
 
 RALPH 
 How long ? 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Quite a while. Long enough to get the gist of what 
 you were saying. 
 
 RALPH 
 And you, you are the man she wants to marry! 
 
 BELDEN 
 I hope so. 
 
 RALPH 
 A man who doesn t scruple to listen at keyholes 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Indicating the doorway) 
 There isn t any. 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 57 
 
 RALPH 
 
 You know what I mean. A man who spies on his 
 fiancee ! What a rotten thing to do ! 
 
 BELDEN 
 Contemptible, isn t it? 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Ha! You admit it! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Admit it? Why not? (He laughs.) Look here: 
 I m engaged to a girl. I intend to marry her. I leave 
 her alone a few minutes. I come back to find one of 
 my clerks making love to her: trying to induce her to 
 marry him. What do you expect me to do? Wait 
 politely till he s finished? Not listen? Or act as if I 
 had heard nothing? Good Lord, man, I ve got red 
 blood in my veins! I love the girl. Have it your own 
 way. Say it s wrong to listen. But I m going to 
 listen anyhow! 
 
 RALPH 
 
 ( Contemptuously ) 
 You don t trust her even now. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Trust her? I should say not! You trusted her and 
 she got engaged to me. A man who has so little inter- 
 
58 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 est in a girl that he trusts her doesn t deserve to marry 
 her. Have you ever looked at it in that light? 
 
 RALPH 
 I should hope not. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Of course not, or she d have been married to you by 
 now. (He seats himself amicably.) Come, let s have 
 it out. Forget that I m paying you a salary. This is 
 man to man. She hasn t done you any injustice: / 
 have. 
 
 RALPH 
 What do you mean? 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 7 cut you out, didn t I? (He settles himself com 
 fortably.) You love her? Don t be afraid to speak 
 out before me. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Mastering himself with an effort) 
 Yes, sir. I I love her. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Flattering to my taste. Thank you. And as for 
 the other side of it, does she love you? 
 
 (RALPH hesitates.) 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 59 
 
 BELDEX 
 This is no time for modesty. She loves you ? 
 
 RALPH 
 I think so. 
 
 BELDEN 
 You are sure of it! 
 
 RALPH 
 (Resolutely) 
 I am sure of it ! 
 
 BELDEN 
 Well, well! 
 
 RALPH 
 
 She was willing to marry me two years ago, and 
 
 then 
 
 (He hesitates again.) 
 
 BELDEN 
 Well, what is it? 
 
 RALPH 
 
 I don t think she cares for you any more than she 
 did for me. It s just the way you did it. 
 
 BELDEN 
 My business methods? 
 
60 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 RALPH 
 Exactly. 
 
 BELDEN 
 By virtue of which I am engaged to her now. 
 
 RALPH 
 Unfortunately. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Yes. (He pauses.) The decent thing to do would 
 be to release her. What do you think? 
 
 RALPH 
 (Eagerly) 
 You would do that? 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Thoughtfully.) 
 
 It would be the proper thing. And then, I am a 
 rich man. You are not. You feel it is the money that 
 makes the difference. 
 
 RALPH 
 She is not marrying you for your money, sir. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Nodding gravely) 
 
 I am glad to know it. But the question of money is 
 simple. I have more than I know what to do with. 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 61 
 
 What would you say if, for instance, I were to hand 
 you a hundred thousand 
 
 RALPH 
 (Dazed) 
 A hundred thousand? 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Or twice as much. Merely as a loan, you know. 
 If I were to say, " Young man, take this money. Go 
 into business with it. Be successful. I will help you 
 to be successful. And at the end of six months, come 
 back and let her choose between us." 
 
 RALPH 
 Mr. Belden! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Eliminate the money question. Put ourselves on 
 a more equal basis. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 What a generous thing to do ! What a magnificent 
 thing! 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Thoughtfully) 
 Isn t it? 
 
62 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 RALPH 
 
 I will make a success! I know I will make a suc 
 cess! I can t help it! And at the end of six months 
 I will come back and she will choose choose between 
 you and me ! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Sounds well, doesn t it? But what makes you 
 think you ll be successful? 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Enthusiastically) 
 With her to work for? 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 You ve had her to work for for the last four years, 
 haven t you? And I ve raised you just once. I made 
 up my mind to fire you twice. 
 
 RALPH 
 Mr. Belden! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 You don t imagine that you re worth what I m 
 paying you to-day, do you? (He pauses.) Come back 
 to the subject. It would be taking a risk, wouldn t it? 
 
 RALPH 
 A wonderful risk! 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 63 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Doubtfully) 
 
 Wonderful ? No. Just a risk. If you fail, I lose my 
 money. If you succeed, she might not choose me. 
 
 RALPH 
 But a risk with your eyes open ! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Nodding emphatically) 
 That is the kind of a risk I never take. It s a pity. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Not understanding) 
 A pity? 
 
 BELDEN 
 A great pity. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 I don t follow you. 
 
 BELDEN 
 That I m not going to do it. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Thunderstruck) 
 Not going to do it? 
 
64 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 It would be taking a chance. I never take a chance 
 when I can help it. (He glances curiously at RALPH.) 
 You didn t think I was serious, did you? 
 
 RALPH 
 (Words failing him) 
 
 Serious ? Serious ! 
 t 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Mildly) 
 
 I read something like it in a book that was all. I 
 was just thinking it would have been a heroic thing to 
 do. It would have been generous as you said, mag 
 nificent. 
 
 RALPH 
 You re not going to do it? 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Not while I am sane. I tell you, though, I d like 
 to see someone else do it ! 
 
 RALPH 
 (Furiously) 
 What are you going to do? 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Mildly) 
 
 I? I m not cut out for a hero. I m going to play 
 safe: marry her just as soon as she ll let me. 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 65 
 
 RALPH 
 And take advantage of your position? 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Nodding) 
 Every inch of it. 
 
 RALPH 
 I thought 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Interrupting) 
 Yes, I know you did. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 And instead 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Again interrupting) 
 You find that I m just an ordinary business man? 
 
 RALPH 
 
 You go about this 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Continuing to interrupt) 
 
 As I go about business? Yes. You see, I know 
 what you want to say. When I want something, I get 
 it if it is to be gotten by the surest means I know. 
 
66 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 RALPH 
 
 And you go after a wife exactly as you go after 
 an extra million ? 
 
 BELDEN 
 Exactly? No. Ten times as hard. 
 
 RALPH 
 Ah! If she knew that! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Don t mistake me ! The extra million doesn t mean 
 much, still I work pretty hard to get it. The wife 
 means a great deal so much that it almost frightens 
 me to think about it. And you want me to worry 
 about fairness? Or politeness? Or about giving the 
 other fellow an equal chance? Not if I am sure that 
 the girl is the right girl! (He leans forward confi 
 dentially.) You see, if I don t make the extra million 
 there are plenty more where it came from: every dol 
 lar s just like every other dollar. But if I don t get the 
 
 girl ! Well, the man behind the counter would 
 
 say, " We happen to be out of this particular number." 
 And I don t want anything else! I m a devilish hard 
 customer to satisfy. You see? (He smiles reminis- 
 cently.) When I was a boy they fed me on hero 
 stories: my father said it would be good for my char 
 acter. They didn t have to ram them down my throat 
 either. I just devoured them! George Washington, 
 Bayard, Joan of Arc, why, I could have told you the 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 67 
 
 maiden names of their maternal grandmothers, that s 
 how well I knew them! And G. A. Henty and 
 Oliver Optic and Frank Castlemon and Horatio 
 Alger? I can tell you half of their plots to-day! I ve 
 got some of those books yet, and I take them down once 
 in a while, read them, just for the sake of the pleasure 
 they used to give me when I was a boy! You never 
 read them, did you? 
 
 RALPH 
 (Stiffly) 
 I don t see what that has to do with the case. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 No: you wouldn t. But I see. (He pauses.) I al 
 ways admired the hero. He was so good so truth 
 ful so manly! When his worst enemy got into a 
 scrape, he would say " I did it." That was the hero s 
 business in life, saying " I did it." When his brother 
 forged a will, or somebody ran off with the bank s 
 money, there was the hero: " I did it." But you knew 
 he didn t. And you knew he d be set right in the end ! 
 There had to be a happy ending: I knew that by the 
 time I was twelve. So I was thrilled when he was 
 shipwrecked or marooned or sentenced to be shot 
 because I knew he d come out right side up! Why, I 
 wallowed in it! And when some other fellow wanted 
 his girl do you follow me? did he say " Don t bother 
 me! "? No\ That wasn t heroic. He said, " Let the 
 best man win ! " and he was perfectly safe in saying 
 
68 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 it because the cards were stacked and he knew it ! Be 
 cause he was the best man, and he had to win, or there d 
 have been no story ! He took a chance which wasn t 
 any chance at all just to thrill the reader, because he 
 was nothing but a character in a book, and had an 
 author looking out for him anyway! (He stops and 
 looks keenly into RALPH S eyes.) Do you under 
 stand? When it comes to real life, when it is a ques 
 tion of yours truly, Geoffrey Belden, he doesn t take 
 a chance ! It s a real chance, and he doesn t want to be 
 thrilled! It s just possible there mightn t be a happy 
 ending! The hero in the book had his author to 
 depend upon : Geoffrey Belden has to look out for him 
 self! (He bows elaborately.) I m the villain in the 
 piece ! 
 
 RALPH 
 I know that already. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (Carefully lighting a cigarette) 
 I ve been something of a hard worker in my day, 
 and one result of it is that I can do things to-day I 
 couldn t do before. I can be unfair when it is to my 
 interest to be unfair. People were damn unfair to me 
 when I was a young fellow. 
 
 BLANCHE 
 (Enters the room, wearing a cloak over her evening 
 
 gown) 
 I ve been hunting for you everywhere, Geoffrey. 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 69 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 You come in good time. (He faces RALPH.) I 
 want something now. I want it badly. So I warn you 
 to do the decent thing. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Warn? 
 
 BELDEN 
 That was the word. 
 
 RALPH 
 When you don t do the decent thing yourself? 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 (With an explanatory smile} 
 
 I m the villain. I warn you to give in with good 
 grace: to congratulate me on my engagement. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Laughing contemptuously) 
 Congratulate you! Just watch me! 
 
 BELDEN 
 It s gentlemanly: you seem keen on that. 
 
 RALPH 
 Are you joking? 
 
70 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Shrugs his shoulders hopelessly: his whole attitude 
 
 changes) 
 I never joke with my employes. 
 
 RALPH 
 (Flushing) 
 Mr. Belden! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 Rotten thing to say, isn t it? But doesn t it strike 
 you that you re a good deal of a cad yourself ? 
 
 RALPH 
 
 What do you mean? This isn t your office, you 
 know. 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Nodding) 
 
 That s just the point. You wouldn t act like this 
 with another man, but I m your employer, and eti 
 quette says I mustn t discharge you. 
 
 RALPH 
 It would be contemptible. 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 That s why I m going to do it. It takes a brave 
 man to do a contemptible thing. 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 71 
 
 RALPH 
 Discharge me? You daren t! 
 
 BELDEN 
 
 No? It s wrong. It s outrageous. It s despicable. 
 But I warned you I was the villain. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 And you mean to ? (He turns passionately to 
 
 BLANCHE.) And you, yo\i listen to all of this, and 
 say nothing? Can t I say to him, " Keep your money! 
 We have each other! " ? 
 
 (He seizes her hand.) 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 (Withdrawing her hand) 
 I m afraid you can t, Ralph. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 You stand here, see him crush me 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 And admire him for having the courage to do a 
 cowardly thing! 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Wild with fury) 
 
 He offered me do you know what he offered? He 
 was to give me money set me up in business and in 
 
72 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 six months when I would be a success you were to 
 choose between us! 
 
 BLANCHE 
 You did that, Geoffrey? 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Giving him no chance to answer) 
 
 No, he didn t ! He was leading me on, that was all ! 
 Joking! Just joking! 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 But you you would have been willing to wait six 
 months ? 
 
 RALPH 
 Willing? Delighted! 
 
 BLANCHE 
 You would have come to me 
 
 RALPH 
 And let you choose between us! 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 Yes. But I have made that choice. Don t you 
 think I know my mind now? How many seconds did 
 you think it took me to find out which was the finer 
 man: you or Geoffrey? If he had been serious in his 
 offer, do you know what I would have said ? I would 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 73 
 
 have said, " You feel there is truth in what he says: that 
 your money attracts me. So you propose to make him a 
 rich man also. What a monstrous insult to me ! " 
 
 RALPH 
 Insult ? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 The man who marries me will want me so badly 
 that six days will be too long to wait for my answer! 
 He won t ask whether I marry him for his money or 
 his position : he \von t care why I marry him : so long 
 as I marry him! 
 
 RALPH 
 
 But it would have been a fine thing to do ! It would 
 have been a magnificent thing to do! It would have 
 been a gentlemanly thing to do! 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 For someone else, perhaps: not for me! Fine? 
 Magnificent? Gentlemanly? I don t want to be 
 loved gently. I don t want to be won fairly! I 
 don t want to think that my husband cared for me so 
 little that he gave all the others an equal chance ! That 
 he won me, perhaps, only because someone else was 
 still more polite! (She shakes her head.) I would 
 have said, " Gentlemen, in six months you will have 
 concluded a very entertaining experiment. But don t 
 come around to see me when it s over. Fm not in 
 terested!" 
 
74 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Moved} 
 Thank you thank you, Blanche. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 (Dazed gasping ) 
 
 And you you have the reputation of being a just 
 man! 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Nodding) 
 
 I cultivate it. (He smiles kindly.) Don t you see, 
 you re not going to tell people what a rotter I am. 
 
 RALPH 
 
 Not tell them ? That s just what I m going to do ! 
 
 BELDEN 
 And make a fool of yourself? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 
 (Taking BELDEN S arm) 
 
 Don t worry, Geoffrey. He has done that already. 
 (She turns to RALPH with an imperious 
 gesture of dismissal. He hesitates. She 
 smiles, then breaks into a laugh, a mocking, 
 merciless laugh. He flushes, turns slowly, 
 leaves the room. There is a pause. Then:) 
 
THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 75 
 
 BLANCHE 
 Are you really going to discharge him ? 
 
 BELDEN 
 (Smiling) 
 What do you say, dear? 
 
 BLANCHE 
 ( Thinks an instant. Then a steely glint comes into her 
 
 eyes, and she nods) 
 
 A man with so much sentiment would never be a 
 success in business anyhow. Come, Geoffrey. 
 
 ( They go. The droning of the orchestra 
 continues and the murmur of conversa 
 tion and the shuffle of dancing slip 
 pers. . . .) 
 
 THE CURTAIN FALLS 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 A PLAY IN TWO SCENES 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 THE author sincerely trusts that no reader will 
 construe any part of what follows in the light of an 
 attack upon one of the greatest boons of modern civiliza 
 tion organized charity. 
 
 But if the reader has occasionally reflected that no 
 force is more capable of doing damage than that power 
 of affecting the course of human life which is some 
 times placed in the hands of inexpert administrators, 
 then the author will exclaim with him, "Charity! 
 What sins are committed in thy name ! " 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 BETTY. 
 
 TOM. 
 
 WILLIE. 
 
 A CHARITY WORKER. 
 
 A SHERIFF. 
 
THE FIRST SCENE 
 
THE SCENE 
 
 Is laid at BETTY S, in a cheap tenement, in the slums 
 of New York. 
 
 THE TIME 
 
 An evening in Summer. 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 THE FIRST SCENE 
 
 /F rooms bespeak character, this room, the scene 
 upon which the curtain rises, is eloquent. For 
 it tells the tale of a struggle with poverty a 
 struggle against the most overwhelming odds. There 
 is no carpet, but the floor is tolerably clean. The wall 
 paper, left by some more prosperous tenant, hangs in 
 shreds, but the worst places are concealed by gaudily 
 colored pictures. There is a stove, and a dish of some 
 thing is simmering on it. A few rickety chairs, no two 
 alike, are about the room. And against a wall, a non 
 descript arrangement of wooden boxes, old rags, news 
 papers, and scraps of colored cloth, might pass for a 
 couch. There is a window: of course there is a win 
 dow: the tenement law requires it. But the fire- 
 escape outside is encumbered with drying laundry, and 
 the window is as useless for ventilation as it is for 
 light. 
 
 A lifeless room. A cheerless room. An unspeak 
 ably dismal room. Yet it is the show-room of the 
 "apartment," for, by the evidence of the couch, only one 
 of the tenants can sleep here, and a wobbly door, from 
 
 S3 
 
84 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 which the varnish is peeling in long strips, leads into a 
 " bedroom." A bedroom, indeed, it must be, though 
 we make no careful investigation. A glimpse through 
 the doorway reveals a decrepit mattress and a lumpy 
 pillow, and, once again, the inspectors would be pleased 
 to observe a diminutive hole in the wall, opening on a 
 lightless shaft: a "window." 
 
 As the curtain rises, BETTY, a rather attractive girl 
 of nineteen, is removing the dishes from the table at 
 which she and her younger brother TOM have just 
 eaten. The fairest flowers are said to bloom in filth, 
 and there is a purity, a delicacy of outline about 
 BETTY S profile, which is curiously pleasing. There are 
 hard lines about the mouth, and the beginning of a 
 nasty contraction at the side of the eyelids, but these 
 are not pleasing. One had better not look at them. 
 Misery, and hopelessness: of course they are in her face, 
 but she is a pretty girl, if you take but a fleeting glance 
 at her. Let it go at that. 
 
 TOM, the younger brother, who sells neivspapers, and 
 does odd jobs, is a depressingly sophisticated lad of 
 eighteen. At this age a boy is supposed to be " full of 
 life " ; is expected to be " bubbling over with spirits." 
 Perhaps that is what TOM is thinking of as he sits in 
 his chair and stares stares through grime and 
 filth, and brick and stone, into something far be 
 yond. 
 
 From some not distant church a clock strikes. BETTY 
 listens: 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 85 
 
 BETTY 
 What time was that ? 
 
 TOM 
 Seven. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 Light the gasy-Temr^vill you? (He rises, scratches 
 a match, and touches it to a jet in the center of the 
 room. BETTY takes a purse from a place of conceal 
 ment.) To-morrow s the first of the month, Tom. 
 
 TOM 
 (Slowly) 
 Yes. 
 
 BETTY 
 I ve got the rent this time. 
 
 TOM 
 Yes? 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Counting out the money) 
 
 There. And almost a dollar over. Just think what 
 that means! You re making almost four dollars a 
 week, and I made over eleven last week ! 
 
 TOM 
 
 (In the same slow, measured tone) 
 Yes. 
 
86 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 BETTY 
 
 Fifteen dollars a week between us! Tom, we ll be 
 able to put something by! I m going to open an ac 
 count in a savings bank. 
 
 TOM 
 
 (As before) 
 Yes. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Putting her arms about his shoulders) 
 We ve slaved for it, haven t we? It used to be 
 mighty hard, old fellow. 
 
 TOM 
 Yes. When Willie was with us. 
 
 BETTY 
 (Nodding) 
 
 It made such a difference. The two of us, to sup 
 port him, with all the things he had to have. The 
 medicines and the food 
 
 TOM 
 And one of us had to stay home part of the day. 
 
 BETTY 
 Well, he couldn t do much for himself, could he? 
 
 TOM 
 
 It s hard to make a living when you ve got only half 
 your time to do it in. 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 87 
 
 BETTY 
 
 Tom, we oughtn t complain. We had to do it. If 
 you were taken sick, I d look out for you, wouldn t I? 
 It would be the least I could do. (He shrugs his 
 shoulders.) Well, Willie s our brother. 
 
 TOM 
 
 What did Willie ever do for us when he was well ? 
 (BETTY does not answer.) He made more money than 
 both of us put together, but we never saw any of it! 
 We could go to the dogs for all he cared! 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Reproachfully) 
 Tom! 
 
 TOM 
 
 ( Dispassionately ) 
 
 I m not saying this because I m angry. I m simply 
 telling you what happened. Willie made the money, 
 and Willie spent the money. He liked to amuse him 
 self. There was nothing to stop him. You needed 
 shoes, but Willie needed a drink. So Willie got the 
 drink, and you you could have gone barefoot for all 
 the difference it made to him. 
 
 BETTY 
 Tom, he was punished. 
 
 TOM 
 
 He punished? Not much! Do you call it punish 
 ment that he fell off a ladder when he was drunk ? No, 
 
88 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 we were punished! We! It wasn t hard enough to 
 look out for ourselves: we had to look out for him 
 too . . . 
 
 (He breaks off.) 
 
 BETTY 
 
 Tom : Willie s a cripple. The doctors say he won t 
 live six months. Don t you think you might forgive 
 him? 
 
 TOM 
 
 Forgiving him is easy. What s done is done. But 
 that s not the point. Willie s coming home. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 ( Thunderstruck) 
 
 Coming home? But I thought the Society was 
 taking care of him. 
 
 TOM 
 Yes. 
 
 BETTY 
 Then why ? 
 
 TOM 
 
 I stopped in this afternoon. You know, they said 
 I was to see Willie once a week. 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 89 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Impatiently) 
 Well? 
 
 TOM 
 They ve cured him. 
 
 BETTY 
 Cured him ? Then he ll be able to work ! 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Shaking his head slowly) 
 No. 
 
 BETTY 
 What do you mean? 
 
 TOM 
 
 It s very simple. He was a cripple. He was going 
 to die in six months. But they were charitable. They 
 sent him to the hospital. They operated him. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Breathlessly) 
 And what happened? 
 
 TOM 
 
 The operation was a success. (He pauses.) He ll 
 live, do you understand? He s got as many years in 
 
90 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 him as you or I, but he s paralyzed that s all: just 
 paralyzed. 
 
 BETTY 
 (Slowly) 
 Then he s no better. 
 
 TOM 
 
 Oh, yes! He s lots better! We thought he was 
 going to die. The doctors thought he was going to 
 die. But they operated. It was a wonderful opera 
 tion. The lady in charge at the Society told me how 
 wonderful it was : the doctors are going to write a book 
 about it. So Willie s not going to die. He s coming 
 back here to live with us. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Aghast) 
 But we can t take care of him ! 
 
 TOM 
 The hospital can t. They ve got other sick people. 
 
 BETTY 
 Willie s sick! 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Shaking his head) 
 He s as well as he ll ever be. He doesn t need the 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 91 
 
 hospital. Only medicines, and good food, and some 
 body to wheel him around, and he ll live to be seventy. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Staggering under the succession of blows) 
 Somebody to wheel him around ? 
 
 TOM 
 
 The ladies at the Society took up a collection and 
 bought him a wheel chair. I saw it. Rubber tires, 
 and silk cushions, and real mahogany. He s got to 
 be in the fresh air for two hours every day. 
 
 BETTY 
 How will we get him up and down stairs? 
 
 TOM 
 (Does not answer. When he speaks again it is in the 
 
 same dead voice) 
 
 If it had been a year sooner, they couldn t have saved 
 him. It s a new operation. The lady at the Society 
 said we ought to be very thankful. He might have 
 died (with a sudden flash of anger), but they wouldn t 
 let him! 
 
 BETTY 
 
 But why do they send him here? Why doesn t the 
 Society take care of him? That s what they re for. 
 They can take care of him so much better! 
 
92 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 TOM 
 They ve been taking care of him for some time now. 
 
 BETTY 
 What of that? 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Wearily] 
 
 Don t you understand ? They don t believe in break 
 ing up the family. (BETTY does not answer.) Willie 
 has a home to go to. (He waves his hand grimly.) 
 This is the home. So they re sending him here. (He 
 pauses again.) The lady at the Society explained it 
 all to me. Too much charity would make paupers out 
 of us, and they don t want that, to happen. They ve 
 done all they think they should for Willie. It s up to 
 us now. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Desperately) 
 
 Tom: if Willie comes here you know what it will 
 mean. We re just managing to live we re just man 
 aging to get along 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Bitterly) 
 
 The Society doesn t want to break up the home. It s 
 our privilege to look out for Willie : " privilege " : that 
 was the word she used. The Society helped us over 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 93 
 
 a hard place, but if they helped us any more it would 
 be bad for us. They re afraid it would make us less 
 independent. . . . Well, Willie ll be here any minute. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Taking his hands, almost weeping} 
 Tom! Tom! 
 
 TOM 
 
 You know, we rich people a few dollars more or 
 less don t matter. And we can t pitch him out into 
 the street, can we? He s our brother. 
 
 BETTY 
 Tom, what s to become of us? 
 
 TOM 
 
 Betty : nobody cares. We don t matter. ( There is 
 a sound of voices outside.) They re bringing him up. 
 
 ( A rap at the door. BETTY opens it.) 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (Enters. She is a thin, kind-faced woman of middle 
 
 age, rather winded from the steep ascent) 
 Is this is this ? 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Recognizing her) 
 Yes. This is the place, Mrs. Todd. 
 
94 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (With a sigh of relief) 
 It wasn t easy bringing him up those stairs. 
 
 (Two men, one in front, one behind, lift 
 WILLIE, chair and all, over the threshold, 
 and wheel him into the room. WILLIE is a 
 large-framed man of twenty-three, whose 
 head rolls from side to side as the chair ?noves. 
 The lower part of his body is snugly wrapped 
 in a blanket.) 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Neither joy nor love nor surprise in her voice. Simply 
 
 recognition of a fact) 
 Willie! 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 (Speaking in the uncertain voice of a paralytic a voice 
 which has been seriously affected by his ailment) 
 How how do you do? 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 (Smoothing WILLIE S hair, and putting on a few finish 
 ing touches as if he were an entry in a dog-show) 
 He looks well, doesn t he? Splendid color! Well, 
 
 I m going to leave you here, Willie. 
 
 WILLIE 
 Y yes, Mrs. Todd. 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 95 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 You ll have your brother and sister to take care of 
 you. You ll like that better than the hospital, won t 
 you? 
 
 WILLIE 
 Y yes, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (Turning enthusiastically to TOM) 
 It s wonderful what science can do now-a-days! 
 When he came to us you know what he was like. 
 
 TOM 
 Yes. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 And now! Look at him! Would anybody think 
 that the doctors actually gave him up? Tom, (she 
 lays her hand on his shoulder) you ought to be very 
 grateful ! We ve saved him for you ! Saved him ! 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Rising to the situation) 
 I m sure we re very thankful, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 (Pleased) 
 
 Of course. Of course. But the Society doesn t want 
 thanks. We re just glad that we ve helped you. And 
 I m sure you ll take good care of him. 
 
9 6 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 BETTY 
 (Slowly) 
 Yes. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 Two hours of fresh air every day your brother can 
 help you carry him downstairs and milk, and plenty of 
 food. That s all. And his medicine three times a day. 
 (She takes the botle from WILLIE S breast pocket, and 
 shows it to her.) It s all written on the bottle. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Taking the bottle) 
 Yes, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 He won t be much trouble. (From the chair comes 
 a gasping gurgle WILLIE S laugh.) You see how 
 cheerful he is? He has a magnificent constitution, 
 haven t you, Willie ? 
 
 WILLIE 
 Y yes, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (Drawing BETTY aside) 
 
 The doctors never expected him to pull through: 
 they were surprised when he came out of the ether! 
 (She smiles confidentially.) You ought to be proud of 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 97 
 
 him: he s quite a celebrity in his way. (She turns back 
 to WILLIE.) Well, I must be going, but I m leaving 
 you in good hands. Good-by, Willie. 
 
 WILLIE 
 G good-by, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 TOM 
 (Drawing the CHARITY WORKER to one side as she is 
 
 about to leave) 
 Mrs. Todd! 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (With a pleasant smile) 
 Yes? 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Almost desperately) 
 
 Don t you think the Society could take better care 
 of him than we could ? 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (Her smiles freezing on her lips) 
 I ve explained that to you once. 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Resolutely) 
 But that s what the Society s for, isn t it? 
 
98 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (Standing on her dignity} 
 
 The ladies who founded the Society are quite com 
 petent to manage it. (He is so crushed that she con 
 tinues more kindly.) Tom, this isn t the only case of 
 the kind we ve handled. We ve had a hundred like 
 it! And we re doing for you what our experience has 
 taught us is best. 
 
 TOM 
 But if it doesn t work? 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 (Confidently) 
 
 It will. (She radiates a liberally inclusive smile 
 upon the reunited family.) Good-by. (She goes.) 
 ( There is a pause. The others, who have 
 overheard nothing of the conversation, have, 
 nevertheless, maintained a respectful silence. 
 Now WILLIE turns to his sister.) 
 
 WILLIE 
 W well, sis! G glad to see me? 
 
 BETTY 
 Of course, Willie. 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 I I m a triumph of surgery. That that s what 
 the doctors said. Took me all apart, and put me to 
 gether again, and here I am, alive and kicking! N 
 no, not kicking, but alive ! You bet I m alive ! 
 
ACCORDING TO- 
 
 BETTY 
 Don t talk if it tires you, Willie. 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 N no. It doesn t tire me. I I did a lot of talk 
 ing in the hospital. And reading! I did a lot of read 
 ing. You you see (he jerks his head a little to one 
 side) there s a thing on the chair to hold a book. You 
 put it in front of me, and you turn the pages. 
 
 BETTY 
 You can t use your hands, Willie? You used to. 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 They re not much good to me now. But I can talk, 
 I can! I I m a gay old bird! (BETTY and TOM 
 stare at each other in expressive silence.) Eighteen 
 men operated, and I m the only one who wasn t killed 
 by it! Survival of the fittest, eh? (He laughs his gur 
 gling laugh.) I learnt that from a book at the hos 
 pital. The weakest go to the wall ! (He laughs again. 
 Then, suddenly:) Tom! 
 
 TOM 
 Yes, Willie? 
 
 WILLIE 
 B bet you a dollar I live longer than you do ! 
 
 THE CURTAIN FALLS 
 
THE SECOND SCENE 
 
THE SCENE 
 Is the same as before. 
 
 THE TIME 
 
 Two months later an October morning. 
 
THE SECOND SCENE 
 
 more the room speaks for itself. Some of 
 the pictures still remain on the wall, but they 
 no longer hang straight, and do not conceal 
 the rents in the wall-paper. A highly colored picture 
 of St. Francis throwing food to the birds, a picture 
 which lent something of dignity to the first scene, 
 is all askew, and the saint seems to have acquired 
 an odd rakishness of expression. The window and 
 the floor are dirty, and litter of all kinds has accumu 
 lated. 
 
 On the couch sits BETTY, tired, sleepy, her head be 
 tween her hands. It is little we can see of her as she 
 huddles up, in a vain effort, as it were, to hide herself 
 from the world, but the glance which once appraised 
 her claims to beauty cannot avoid the cheaply gaudy 
 dress, the bedraggled plumes of her hat, the cracked 
 patent-leather shoes, the sheer silk stockings, and, as 
 she moves, the rouge and lip-salve which are so liber 
 ally applied to the pinched features. Her hand trem 
 bles, and the imitation jewelry with which it is laden 
 glitters. She is pathetic indescribably pathetic, and 
 she alone, in all the world, cannot appreciate it. For 
 her intelligence, never of the greatest, is quite unable 
 to cope with the situation. That WILLIE, who, like 
 
 103 
 
io 4 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 some heathen idol, sits motionless in the center of the 
 room, has had something to do with her downfall, she 
 recognizes but recognizes dimly. The whole catas 
 trophe is too overwhelming, too devastating, and, with 
 it, has come a blessed numbness, a hazy indifference, 
 under whose kindly anaesthesia the poor thread of her 
 life writhes on. 
 
 WILLIE, motionless, sits in his chair, and the smoke 
 which curls from a cigarette in his mouth lends a curi 
 ous emphasis to the continual play of his twitching 
 features. From outside, through the unwashed win 
 dow, comes a brilliant beam of sunlight, a beam hot, 
 and quivering with life. And it falls upon the meager 
 furnishings of the room and makes them stand forth 
 but more sharply in their gaunt nakedness. 
 
 WILLIE 
 Tom! (There is no answer.) Tom! 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Raising her head listlessly) 
 What do you want? 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 I I want Tom to take the cigarette out of my 
 mouth. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Relapsing into her stupor) 
 He s asleep. 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 105 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 W well, I want him! W T hat business has he got 
 to go to sleep now? Tom! Tom! 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Appearing at the bedroom door) 
 I heard you the first time. (He enters. He is 
 fully dressed, and carries a small bundle.) There you 
 are. 
 
 (He snatches the cigarette out of WILLIE S 
 mouth.) 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 D don t have to be so rough about it! (He 
 pauses.) D do you hear me? Don t have to be so 
 rough about it ! 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Crossing gently to BETTY) 
 Betty! (He touches her arm.) Wake up, Betty! 
 
 BETTY 
 What is it? 
 
 TOM 
 The sheriff will be here any minute now. 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 (Catching the word) 
 Eh? Sheriff? 
 
io6 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Disregarding him) 
 
 Betty! (She has sunken into her stupor again.) 
 Listen to me, Betty! I m not going to wait for him. 
 
 BETTY 
 Eh? 
 
 TOM 
 I m going away. Do you understand that, Betty? 
 
 BETTY 
 What? 
 
 TOM 
 I m going away far away. Outside of New York. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Beginning to realize) 
 You re not going to leave me, Tom? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 TOM 
 (Resolutely) 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Fully wide awake) 
 
 Tom! You don t mean it! You don t mean that 
 you re going for good and all? 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 107 
 
 TOM 
 Yes, Betty. 
 
 BETTY 
 (Aghast) 
 
 Tom! (With terrible suspicion.) You re going be 
 cause ! 
 
 (A vaguely inclusive gesture to her tawdry 
 finery.) 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Earnestly) 
 
 No that s not why. I don t blame you. Under 
 stand that, Betty, I don t blame you. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 Then why ? 
 
 TOM 
 
 Betty, youve got nothing to do with it! I m going 
 away because I want a chance for myself! I m young! 
 I ve got my life before me! And I m going to make 
 the most of it! 
 
 (WILLIE, in his chair, laughs harshly.) 
 
 BETTY 
 But why don t you stay here? 
 
 TOM 
 Here? 
 
 (A torrent of ivords rises to his lips, but he 
 sees how futile any explanation must be.) 
 
io8 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Desperately) 
 If you go away, Tom, what will become of me? 
 
 TOM 
 I don t know. 
 
 BETTY 
 Take me with you! 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Shaking his head) 
 
 No. You ll hamper me. (She recoils as if struck 
 by a whip-lash. He takes her hands.) Betty: two 
 months ago we had a chance, you and I! But you, 
 you re done for! And I, by God, I m not! 
 
 BETTY 
 Tom! 
 
 TOM 
 
 (Vehemently) 
 
 You loved him and see what s become of you! 
 You re finished ! You re down and out ! You can t 
 help me: you can only hurt me! 
 
 BETTY 
 Tom: don t you love me? 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 109 
 
 TOM 
 
 Yes! But we ve got no chance together! It s each 
 for himself, Betty! Good-by! (She falls on his neck, 
 weeping. Slowly and deliberately he disengages her 
 arms, and with a sudden tenderness, presses a kiss to 
 the painted lips.) Good-by! (He turns, and his 
 glance falls upon the motionless cripple, living eyes, 
 living mouth, living brain, mocking him in a dead 
 body. He nods gri?nly.) Willie! 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 (Terrified as TOM draws near) 
 W what is it? 
 
 TOM 
 
 (With a short laugh) 
 
 Oh, I m not going to hurt you! But I want you 
 to deliver a message to Mrs. Todd. (He pauses.) 
 Tell her, Willie, tell Mrs. Todd, it didn t work. 
 (He goes.) 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 (Rather relieved at the sound of his departing foot 
 steps) 
 
 Survival of the fittest! Eh, Betty? Weakest go 
 to the wall! (He laughs.) S survival of the fittest! 
 (Huddled on the couch, BETTY weeps loudly.) Betty! 
 Eh, Betty! 
 
 BETTY 
 What? 
 
no ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 WILLIE 
 Sheriff coming? 
 
 BETTY 
 Yes. 
 
 WILLIE 
 Being evicted, eh? 
 
 BETTY 
 
 Yes. (She wipes her eyes and blows her nose.) 
 I stopped in at the Society. 
 
 WILLIE 
 Yes? 
 
 BETTY 
 They re going to send for you. 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 Of course. (He grins.) Couldn t pitch me into 
 the street, could they? G got to take care of me, eh? 
 (She does not answer.) Betty, they call that sur 
 vival of the fittest! I m fit! 
 
 ( Through the open door enter THE CHARITY 
 WORKER and THE SHERIFF, a tall, burly 
 individual. ) 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 (Leading the way) 
 This is the place, Mrs. Todd. 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN in 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 I m sure it s not. (She catches sight of WILLIE.) 
 Yes, it is. (Going up to WILLIE, much moved.) Ah, 
 my poor fellow! 
 
 WILLIE 
 H hello, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 (Brushing dust from WILLIE S coat) 
 What a state you re in! They haven t taken good 
 care of you, have they? 
 
 WILLIE 
 N not very, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 It s an outrage! Nothing more nor less! (BETTY 
 has risen, and faces her.) You heard what I said? 
 It s an outrage! A poor, helpless cripple the way 
 you ve taken care of him! (BETTY, rather confused, 
 does not move. THE CHARITY WORKER notices her 
 attire, and suddenly takes in its significance.) Good 
 Heavens! So you re that kind! You! Why didn t 
 you tell me that, Willie? If I d known, I would 
 never have let you come here! Never! (Genuinely 
 affected.) To think where I sent you! 
 
 (BETTY laughs loudly and hysterically.) 
 
ii2 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 (Indignant) 
 You re laughing at me? (Appealingly.) Sheriff! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 Don t mind her, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 But she s laughing! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 (Consolingly) 
 
 They ve got no feelings, those people! Bite the 
 hand that feeds them! They re just animals! 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Taking up the word) 
 
 Animals? An animal? Yes! That s what you ve 
 made me ! But I wasn t an animal till he came here ! 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 What do you mean? 
 
 BETTY 
 
 It was hard enough to get along only the two of 
 us, Tom and me. And then he came along, he, just 
 a mouth to be fed, and hands that couldn t work, and 
 we didn t have the money, and we couldn t get the 
 money. So well, that s why I m that kind! Because 
 I couldn t keep him alive any other way! 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 113 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 (Taken aback) 
 Sheriff: is this true? 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 
 (Shaking his head with an easy superiority) 
 Not a word of it. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 What?! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 
 (With a contemptuous wave of the hand) 
 She? She s no good anyhow! 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Indignantly) 
 That s not so! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 
 Not so? You think I haven t seen you hanging 
 around the dance halls and the saloons 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Interrupting furiously) 
 You didn t see me there until he came! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 (Mildly amused) 
 What? 
 
ii4 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 BETTY 
 
 I was a good girl just as long as I could be! But 
 when we had to take care of him, the money wasn t 
 enough, and there was nothing else I could do! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 (With finality) 
 
 That s what they all say! There s nothing else any 
 of em could do! (He seizes her roughly by the 
 shoulders.) Listen to me, my girl! You re rotten! 
 You re naturally rotten! I d tell you to give 
 it up, but I know your kind! You won t! It isn t 
 in you! You re no good you re headed wrong and 
 you know where you re going to finish! (He flings 
 her aside, and turns to THE CHARITY WORKER, with 
 a gesture to WILLIE.) Can he walk? 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 Oh, no! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 I ll have the men carry him downstairs. 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Near the door, would like to speak, but she is a little 
 deficient in education. And after all, she has said 
 what she has to say. What remains to be said is 
 beyond her and above her. And then THE 
 SHERIFF and THE CHARITY WORKER are so 
 manifestly hostile. THE SHERIFF turns and sees 
 her.) 
 
ACCORDING TO DARWIN 115 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 
 (Advancing on BETTY) 
 
 Can t waste any more time on you ! Out you go ! 
 
 WILLIE 
 (Contributing his first word to a scene of which he has 
 
 been an interested spectator) 
 S survival of the fittest, eh, Sheriff? 
 
 BETTY 
 
 (Retreating before the menacing embodiment of the 
 law, pauses at the threshold. So many feelings 
 vaguely surge within her. But she is not an adept at 
 choosing words. This room has seen her tragedy. 
 This she faintly comprehends, but cannot find the 
 language to voice illimitable protest. And with that 
 instinctive desire to make a dramatic exit which lies 
 deep in every one of us, she gathers herself up in her 
 pitiable finery.) 
 
 Sheriff! 
 
 THE SHERIFF 
 
 (Bumping her brutally through the door) 
 Git! 
 
 (He follows her.) 
 
 (A pause.) 
 
ii6 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 (Turns to WILLIE, and at his sight not at the 
 thought of what has just taken place, wipes a tear 
 from her eye.) 
 
 It s been pretty bad, hasn t it, Willie? 
 
 WILLIE 
 
 (In whose self-centered brain may lurk a better under 
 standing of the situation) 
 Y yes, Mrs. Todd. 
 
 THE CHARITY WORKER 
 
 What you must have gone through! (She shakes 
 her head in pity. Then, with a rather cheerful smile:) 
 Well, Willie, have you any other relatives? 
 
 THE CURTAIN FALLS 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 A COMEDY 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 S HELTON. 
 
 CARRUTHERS. 
 DOROTHY SHELTON. 
 A BUTLER. 
 
 THE SCENE 
 At Sheltons. 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 /JS the curtain rises, SHELTON and CAR- 
 /-f RUTHERS are discovered. SHELTOX, a not 
 * unattractive social butterfly of some thirty- 
 
 five years of age, has inherited wealth, and having 
 never had to concern himself with productive labor, 
 has acquired a fine dilettantism : an ability to do many 
 things badly, without doing any one of them so badly 
 that it becomes evident he has neglected it. CAR- 
 RUTH ERS, his friend, has even less claim to dis 
 tinction. They would pass in a crowd if the 
 crowd were large enough, but no one, with the pos 
 sible exception of a Society Editor, would give either 
 of them a second glance. Were one to seek some 
 thing visibly commendable about them, one might re 
 mark that they are groomed and tailored to an ex 
 quisite nicety too exquisite, perhaps. They are in 
 full dress, for they have just finished the evening 
 meal, and as the assiduous butler lights their cigars, 
 places the liqueur tray on the table, and discreetly 
 effaces himself, they slowly push their chairs into 
 more comfortable positions, and look at each other. 
 There is something in that look: something unusual, 
 and the shadow of a smile curls about the husband s 
 lips as he raises his arm to consult a wrist-watch. 
 119 
 
120 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 What time? 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 Twelve minutes of eight no, ten minutes of. My 
 watch is a little slow. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (Rather brilliantly, after a pause) 
 Thought it was later than that. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (Having weighed the pros and cons carefully) 
 So did I. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 (After another pause) 
 Thought it was at least quarter past. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 So did I. (Consulting the watch again.) It s 
 eleven minutes of that is to say, nine minutes of, 
 now. (He pauses and smiles reflectively.) Jerry! 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Yes? 
 
 SHELTON 
 I wonder what Cheever s saying to her now? 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 121 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 I wonder ? 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 (Examining a time-table) 
 Their train pulls out at eight. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (With a trace of animation) 
 
 I thought you said they were leaving this after 
 noon. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Eh? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 The six o clock train, you said first. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 Oh, yes. But she had to do some shopping. You 
 can t get any decent clothes in Chicago, you know. 
 (He chuckles slowly.) I suppose she wanted the 
 satisfaction of charging a final bill to me, eh, Jerry? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 (Nodding sympathetically) 
 It s cost you a pretty penny, all in all. 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Philosophically) 
 
 Well, your wife doesn t elope with some other chap 
 every day, does she? 
 
122 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 ( Undecidedly ) 
 Er, no. 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 This is a special occasion. If Dorothy feels she 
 has a right to carte blanche on her last day as my 
 wife, I don t know but what I ought to agree with 
 her. It s sentimental, you know. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 But expensive. 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 Sentiment is always expensive. At any rate, I m 
 footing the bills. A little more or less doesn t mat 
 ter. (He rises, and produces a mass of papers from 
 a convenient desk.) Just look at these. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 What are they? 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 The detectives reports. (He thumbs them over 
 with a smile.) It s been like a continued-in-our-next 
 story. I ve been reading them for the last month. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (Surprised) 
 
 I didn t know you had detectives following her. 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 123 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 (Confused) 
 Er, yes. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Do you think that s cricket? 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Hesitantly) 
 
 Well, I couldn t ask her if she was going to run 
 away. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Why not? 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 She s too good a woman to lie to me and I didn t 
 want to embarrass her. (CARRUTHERS smiles cynic 
 ally. SHELTON crushes him politely.) You wouldn t 
 understand such things anyhow, Jerry. (He bundles 
 the reports to g ether again.) The last installment 
 reached me to-day. It took her a month to make up 
 her mind. Cheever wanted her to elope long ago, 
 but she wouldn t hear of it. She had scruples. And 
 to-morrow ! 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (Thinking he is rising to the situation) 
 To-morrow s another day. 
 
124 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (With a faint frown) 
 
 No. To-morrow I ll be a free man no wife, no 
 responsibilities, no conscience. Rather clever of me, 
 eh, Jerry? If I had told her I didn t mind, she never 
 would have run off. Never! 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 She s a moral woman, your wife. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 ( Nodding emp hatically ) 
 
 Well, rather! (Confidentially.) Do you know, 
 I m not sure that she isn t running off with Cheever 
 because she wants to reform him? He s a bad lot, 
 you know; gambles, and drinks, and a devil with the 
 ladies. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (Slowly) 
 
 I m not knocking anybody, but you used to travel 
 around with him. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (Not at all disturbed) 
 
 Yes: when I was single. Oh, I m not making any 
 bones about it: I was as bad as he worse. (With 
 satisfaction.) Much worse. Cheever and I, well, we 
 had reps! You know what they were like. 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 125 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 I do. 
 
 S HELTON 
 (Solemnly) 
 
 But that s all over with now. I m a better man 
 since I married Dorothy. She s reformed me. There 
 was lots to reform, too. I was a bad un. But that 
 didn t bother her: she enjoyed it. She used to talk 
 to me, just like a mother, Jerry, and she got me to 
 cut out cards, and the ponies (he pauses reflectively) 
 I used to lose a bale of money on the races, Jerry. 
 (CARRUTHERS does not answer. He finishes em 
 phatically.) She s had an awfully good influence 
 on me. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (After a period of cogitation) 
 She s helped you? 
 
 S HELTON 
 (Enthusiastically) 
 
 Helped me? I can t begin to tell you how many 
 ways 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 (Interrupting) 
 Then why are you letting her go? 
 
126 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Taken aback) 
 Eh? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Why are you letting her run off with Cheever? 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Nervously) 
 
 You don t keep on taking the medicine after you re 
 cured, do you, Jerry? I m cured, you know. And 
 I don t want to be cured any more than I am. I m a 
 good man. I m so good, Jerry, I m so good some 
 times, that I m almost afraid of myself! (He pauses, 
 to continue candidly.) It s so different and so 
 strange. Before I married Dorothy I wasn t good: 
 that was when I went around with Cheever. But it 
 was so comfortable: I was so sure of myself. I never 
 had any regrets. I wasn t afraid to drink, because 
 even if I well, even if I did take a drop too much I 
 wouldn t make a fool of myself: I d act just as if I 
 were sober. (He emphasizes his point with a clenched 
 fist.) Jerry, I was consistent then! I was depend 
 able. I never had anything to be ashamed of. What 
 ever I did, well, I stood back of it. I didn t have to 
 worry. And now? I m living on the brink of a 
 volcano! I m full of all kinds of impulses to do good 
 things: things I don t want to do. I never know what s 
 going to happen next, and Jerry, I don t like it! It s 
 not fair to me. I m like a man who has swallowed a 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 127 
 
 stick of dynamite: he s expecting it to blow up any 
 minute, but if it ever does blow up, there won t be 
 enough of him left to be surprised at it. (CAR- 
 RUTHERS, considerably beyond his depth, makes no 
 reply.) A man should be true to himself. I don t 
 know whom I m true to, but it s not Billy Shelton! 
 There s no Billy Shelton left: he s nine-tenths Dorothy, 
 and one-tenth remnants! 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 ( Shifting uneasily ) 
 Isn t it time to go to a show? 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (Consulting his watch) 
 
 Eight o clock. That is, two minutes after. Jerry, 
 she s gone! 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 All right. Let s get our coats on. 
 (He rises.) 
 
 SHELTON 
 No. Wait a minute. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (Glancing at him curiously) 
 What s the matter with you? 
 
 SHELTON 
 It s too sudden. I can t realize it yet. 
 
ia8 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 You ve been expecting it a month. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Yes. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Waiting for it counting the hours. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 Yes. (He throws his cigar away nervously.) Jerry, 
 it s two years since I ve been to a show without 
 Dorothy. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Well? 
 
 SHELTON 
 What are you going to do afterwards? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Anything you like. 
 
 SHELTON 
 For instance? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 Stop in somewheres for a bite. Look in at the Club : 
 there s always a game of stud. 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 129 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 (Nodding thoughtfully) 
 
 I used to lose a lot of money at that, Jerry. (He 
 looks at him appealingly.) Jerry. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Well? 
 
 SHELTON 
 Would you mind if I stayed home to-night? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 (Surprised) 
 What? 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 I mean it. I don t feel like going out so soon 
 after 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 It s not a funeral, you know. 
 
 SHELTON 
 No. But 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 But what? 
 
 SHELTON 
 Dorothy wouldn t like it. 
 
130 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Good Lord! 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (Nodding seriously) 
 
 I mean it. Anyhow, you want to see some musical 
 comedy, don t you? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 Why not? 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 It would bore me to death. (Rather shamefacedly.) 
 I used to care for that sort of thing, but Dorothy 
 taught me to enjoy the opera. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 (Facing him resolutely) 
 Answer me one question. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Well? 
 
 CARRUTHERS . 
 Is Dorothy your wife, or was she your wife? 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Hesitantly) 
 
 I guess it s " is." You see, she s not more than ten 
 miles away from New York now. 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 131 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 And you re afraid you may have to account to her? 
 
 SHELTOX 
 
 No. It s not that. She s left me, and I m my own 
 master. But the very day that she elopes, don t you 
 think it would be a little (he searches for a word) a 
 little indecent if I were to start celebrating? I m a 
 gentleman, Jerry, and it wouldn t be quite respectful 
 to Dorothy. She mightn t like it. (He lights on a 
 happy simile.) It s like reading the will \vhile the 
 corpse is still warm, isn t it? Come now, be honest, 
 Jerry. 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 (With warmth) 
 Well, I m thirty-three, and I m a bachelor. 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 What s the point? 
 
 CARRUTHERS 
 
 I say if that s married life, I don t want to get 
 married ! 
 
 (The door opens, and DOROTHY, a tall, 
 slim, rather attractive woman in her late 
 twenties, stands on the threshold. She is 
 quite excited, and she trembles a little. The 
 men, thunderstruck at her sudden appear- 
 
132 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 ance, are unable to voice a greeting. SHEL- 
 TON, collapsed in his chair, gasps like a fish 
 out of water, and CARRUTHERS, petrified at 
 the height of an oratorical gesture, is not 
 much better.) 
 
 SHELTON 
 (At length) 
 
 Good evening, Dorothy. ( DOROTHY leaves the 
 doorway, and staggers to a chair. SHELTON, alarmed, 
 hastens to her.) Get some water, Jerry. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 No, no. I want nothing. 
 
 (CARRUTHERS, carafe in hand, stands mo 
 tionless. SHELTON indicates the door. 
 CARRUTHERS nods, and goes.) 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Is he gone? 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 Yes. (Genuinely anxious.) Is anything wrong 
 with you, Dorothy? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 No. ... (She pauses.) Billy. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Yes? 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 133 
 
 DOROTHY 
 I ve come back. I ve come home again. 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Lamely) 
 Yes. So I notice. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 You got my note? 
 
 SHELTON 
 Your note? What note? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 I sent it with a messenger half an hour ago. 
 
 SHELTON 
 I haven t seen it. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 No? (She passes her hand over her forehead 
 wearily.) Billy, it was a farewell. 
 
 What? 
 
 SHELTON 
 (With an affectation of surprise) 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 I was on the point of leaving you: of running off 
 with another man. 
 
134 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 SH ELTON 
 
 With Cheever? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 You suspected? (SHELTON nods. She goes to- 
 ivards him with outstretched hands.) Billy, at the last 
 minute something stopped me. Something made me 
 come home to you. 
 
 (For an instant SHELTON is silent. Then 
 comes the amazing question:) 
 
 SHELTON 
 Why? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 (Staggered) 
 What? 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Insistently) 
 
 You were on the point of running away. You had 
 planned everything carefully: people don t do such 
 things on the spur of the moment. What stopped 
 you? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 (Gasping at the shock) 
 Don t you love me? 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 135 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 (Not answering the question) 
 
 Cheever is a rich man. Of course, he hasn t got as 
 much as I ve got, but he has plenty to take care of 
 you. The scandal you must have been prepared for. 
 If you loved Cheever, what made you come back to me ? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 You don t love me, Billy? 
 
 SHELTON 
 Would that have stopped you? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 Would that have ? (She stops, thunderstruck 
 
 at what she sees within herself.) I don t know! 
 (Breaking down and weeping.) I don t know, Billy! 
 ( There is a pause. Then she gathers herself to 
 gether.) Billy, look at me! 
 
 SHELTON 
 Well? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Am I a good woman? 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Hesitantly) 
 Well 
 
136 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Tell me the truth, Billy. 
 
 SHELTON 
 You were a good woman when you married me. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 (Excitedly) 
 
 Yes! That s right! I was a good woman then. 
 But am I a good woman now? (He hesitates.) 
 Answer me! Tell me! 
 
 SHELTON 
 (After a pause) 
 I don t know, Dorothy. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 (Desperately) 
 
 Billy, neither do I! (There is a pause.) No girl 
 was ever brought up as I was. We were good: so 
 good! All the people I met were so good! I don t 
 believe any of them ever had a normal impulse. They 
 were saints, Billy, saints! Then you were intro 
 duced to me you remember? 
 
 SHELTON 
 Yes. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 I thought you were the worst man I had ever met. 
 (SHELTON is a little upset, but DOROTHY proceeds 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 137 
 
 fluently.) I had heard the most awful stories about 
 you, oh, the most unbelievable things! You and 
 Cheever ! 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Nodding) 
 We were pals. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 Yes. I began to think. I knew that if I married 
 a man as good as I was, I d go mad: stark, staring 
 mad! (She pauses.) Billy, have you ever felt an 
 impulse to do something outrageous? 
 
 SHELTON 
 Of course. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 What happened? 
 
 SHELTON 
 I did it. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 So did I! For the first time in my life! I mar 
 ried you! 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Offended) 
 Thank you, Dorothy. 
 
138 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 Oh, I ve had no regrets! It wasn t good for me, 
 but I ve enjoyed it! I ve enjoyed it too much! 
 
 SHELTON 
 What do you mean? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 Billy, do you know you ve had a great influence on 
 me? (He cannot answer.) Do you imagine a woman 
 can live with you for two years, as I have lived with 
 you, and remain a perfectly good woman? 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Floundering) 
 Isn t that a little strong? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 The truth is always strong. I m not blaming you, 
 Billy. You ve exerted an influence: it was the only 
 influence you could exert. 
 
 SHELTON 
 (Gasping) 
 A bad one? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 The best that was in you. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Which is to say, the worst? 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 139 
 
 DOROTHY 
 I suppose so. 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 And Cheever? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 Another impulse. (She pauses.) Billy, I never 
 knew until to-day how much bad there was in me. 
 I didn t even know it when I began to go around 
 with Cheever. 
 
 S HELTON 
 (Bewildered) 
 Do you call him a good impulse? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 I don t know. I didn t know whether it was the 
 bad in him calling to the bad in me, or that which 
 was capable of being reformed in him calling to the 
 good in me! Which was it? There s bad in me, 
 and there must be some good left in me. But what 
 am I? A good woman or a bad woman? I don t 
 know. 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 (After a moment s reflection) 
 You made me stop gambling. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Yes. 
 
HO A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 SHELTON 
 And drinking. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Yes. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Why? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 I wasn t trying to reform you. 
 
 SHELTON 
 No? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 That came to me to-day. I used to talk to you 
 about your bad habits because, well, because I liked 
 to talk about such things. I liked to hear you tell 
 about them. 
 
 SHELTON 
 (After a pause) 
 Anyhow, I m reformed. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Yes. 
 
 SHELTON 
 What are you going to do about it? 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 141 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 What can I do about it? I can t influence you any 
 more : there isn t any me left. I look into myself, and 
 I see oceans of Billy Shelton, nothing but Billy Shel- 
 ton, as far as the eye can reach, and here and there, 
 tossed by the waves, a little wreckage, such pathetic 
 wreckage, that used to be something better! Billy, 
 to-day I am what you have made me. 
 
 SHELTON 
 ( Thunderstruck) 
 
 Which is to say that it was / who eloped with 
 Cheever ! 
 
 DOROTHY 
 That s what it amounts to. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 Well then, what I want to know is, why didn t 
 it go through? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 What do you mean? 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 If the me in you made you run off with Cheever, 
 what brought you back? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 (After a pause) 
 Nothing brought me back. 
 
142 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 SHELTON f 
 
 No? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 Cheever sent me back. (There is a long pause,) 
 We had arranged to meet at the station. I met him. 
 We were to send our trunks ahead to Chicago. Mine 
 left yesterday. I was ready to go through with it to 
 the bitter end, but he 
 
 SHELTON 
 He? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 He changed his mind at the last minute. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (After deliberation) 
 Why? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 That s what I ve been asking myself. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Did he give any reason? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 He didn t have to. Am I a good woman or a bad 
 woman? Cheever knows. I m not what he thought 
 I was. That s why he didn t elope with me. He 
 found out at the last minute. 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 143 
 
 SHELTON 
 That you were a good woman ? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Perhaps. 
 
 SHELTON 
 Or that you were a bad one? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 I d give anything to know. Cheever knows. 
 
 SHELTON 
 And he won t tell. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 
 No. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (After a thoughtful pause) 
 
 I like his nerve! (DOROTHY looks at him in mute 
 inquiry.) My wife not good enough for him to elope 
 with! (She does not answer.) Aren t you pretty 
 enough? (She shrugs her shoulders.) Or clever 
 enough? (He surveys her critically.) Is that some 
 thing new you re wearing? 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Yes. I bought it to-day. Do you like it? 
 
H4 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (Nodding his approval) 
 
 Yes. Looks well on you. ( There is a knock at the 
 door.) Come in. 
 
 THE BUTLER 
 
 (Entering with a letter on a salver) 
 Messenger just brought a note, sir. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 Oh! 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 (Glances at her. After an instant s hesitation, 
 she nods her permission. He takes it, slowly opens 
 the envelope, and reads the contents. THE BUTLER 
 waits. SHELTON notices him.) Well, why are you 
 waiting? 
 
 THE BUTLER 
 Is there an answer, sir? 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 An answer? No. 
 
 (THE BUTLER goes. In the ensuing silence 
 SHELTON tears up the note.) 
 
 DOROTHY 
 My farewell? (He nods.) Well? 
 
A QUESTION OF MORALITY 145 
 
 S HELTON 
 
 (Slowly, as if stating a mathematical problem) 
 
 Whatever you are, good or bad, doesn t matter. 
 
 You ve reformed me so thoroughly that you won t 
 
 go far wrong in my company and you re going to 
 have lots of it. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 (Submissively) 
 Yes, Billy. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 You may make slips: I expect you to make slips, 
 but while I m here to watch you they won t be bad 
 ones. 
 
 DOROTHY 
 No, Billy. 
 
 SHELTON 
 
 And before I forget it: if you have any more out 
 rageous impulses, they will be in my direction. You 
 understand? (She nods. He folds her comfortably 
 in his arms, and smiles happily.) From now on, I m 
 prepared to enjoy life. 
 
 THE CURTAIN FALLS 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 A PLAY 
 
 Here s my case. Of old I used to lo<ve him. . . . * 1 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 THE FATHER. 
 THE MOTHER. 
 THE CHILD. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 /T is Christmas Eve. A cheerful fire is blazing 
 in the old-fashioned hearth, and in its wavering 
 light the contents of the room seem to be in 
 dulging in a grotesquely weird dance. Dignified 
 chairs, well upholstered settees, and even the old- 
 fashioned staircase at the rear flash into sight for an 
 instant, and are swallowed up in shadows the next. 
 And just beneath the staircase, where it curves to 
 wards the right to the lower landing, is the door of 
 the dining-room, a door with leaded glass in its upper 
 half, through which comes a dim but very steady 
 illumination, a light in curious contrast to the alter 
 nate brilliance and eclipse of the crackling embers. 
 
 In the next room the family has just disposed of the 
 evening meal. There is a clatter of dishes, a burst 
 of laughter, and then, through the suddenly opened 
 door, all three, father with the child on his shoulder, 
 and mother sedately bringing up the rear, enter the 
 living-room. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (In the best of good spirits) 
 
 Well! This is something like! A good dinner, 
 and my family round me, and Christmas Eve! Eh, 
 Donald? 
 
 (He swings the child to the ground.) 
 149 
 
150 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Running to the mantel. He is a robust little fellow 
 
 of twelve or thirteen) 
 Is my stocking there? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Your stocking? (Turning to the mother with mock 
 seriousness.) Where where is Donald s stocking? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 I m going to give him one of mine. It s bigger. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Delighted) 
 Oh, mother! 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 And when it s full of things it ll stretch it ll 
 stretch ever so much. It won t look like a stocking 
 at all! It ll look like a great big sausage! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 And all for me? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Everything in it! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 Oh! (He pauses.) But Santa Claus might for 
 get me. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 151 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Laughing) 
 
 He won t do that! (Taking him on his knee.) 
 You wrote him a letter, didn t you? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Oh, yes! A long letter! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 And you put it in the chimney last night? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Nodding) 
 Right in front: where he had to see it. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 Perhaps Santa Claus has taken the letter already, 
 Donald. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 Would he take the letter? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (With a wink at the mother) 
 Well, how would he read it otherwise? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 I ll see! 
 
 (He runs upstairs.) 
 
152 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Turning to the mother with a laugh) 
 I went straight through his list for him: got him 
 everything he wanted. 
 
 (He pulls the letter out of his pocket.) 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 (Sitting on the arm of his chair and looking over his 
 shoulder) 
 
 The pop-gun? 
 
 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Yes. They Ve got a new kind that s perfectly safe. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 And the (she is evidently quoting) real electric 
 motor ? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 The genuine article. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 And and What on earth is that? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 ( Taking the letter) 
 What? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 (Pointing) 
 Y r. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 153 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (Laughing uproariously) 
 Don t you know? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 (At a loss) 
 Y r? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Yes. (She shakes her head.) When I was a boy 
 y r spelled " wire "! 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 (Laughing) 
 Oh! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Thank the Lord, I m not so educated that I don t 
 remember that! Well, I got ft: the whole business! 
 It s all under your bed. I had to hide it coming in, 
 or he d have seen it. (He laughs happily.) You 
 know, I m enjoying it as much as he is! Playing 
 Santa Glaus! 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 I believed in him until I was a girl of eleven. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 No? 
 
154 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 Really. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 And your folks never let on? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 Never a word. They enjoyed it as much as you do. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Funny, isn t it? What pleasure we get out of it? 
 I wonder why? I think it s because you enjoy fool 
 ing somebody. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 Well, Donald enjoys being fooled. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 But he doesn t know it. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 (Nodding) 
 Yes. That s why he enjoys it. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Running downstairs) 
 Father ! Mother ! 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Rising anxiously) 
 Look out, Donald, you ll fall! 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 155 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 (Reaching the landing safely) 
 Mother! The letter s gone! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 You don t mean it! 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 Of course it s gone! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Santa must have taken it. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Do you think so, father? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 He s got to read it, hasn t he? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Y es. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Then he has to see if he s got everything you want. 
 So he comes the night before. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Oh! And will he give me all I want? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 If you ve been a good boy, Donald. 
 
156 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE CHILD 
 How do you know? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 We don t know. We hope so! Isn t that right, 
 Mary? We hope so! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Hesitantly) 
 
 I asked for an awful lot. 
 
 . 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Restraining his laughter with difficulty) 
 Well! Well! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 A motor and a bag of marbles (the mother 
 glances apprehensively at the father, afraid that he 
 has forgotten this important item, but he nods imper 
 ceptibly, and continues to nod as the child goes through 
 his list) and a first baseman s glove and a pop-gun 
 
 and a game and candy and and 
 
 (He stops to think.) 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Smiling at his earnestness) 
 What else, Donald? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 I guess that s all. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 157 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Laughing} 
 
 If you don t ask for anything, you never get any 
 thing. Now, you just wait till to-morrow! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 To-morrow ? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 And we ll see what Santa Claus has brought you. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 Oh! (A variety of expressions play over his earnest 
 little face.) May I get up early? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 As early as you like. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 But if I don t wake in time? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 You will if you go to bed now. (As the child hesi 
 tates.) And I ll rap on your door at six o clock. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Reassured) 
 
 Don t forget! Good-night, father. 
 (He shakes hands.) 
 
158 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Good-night, son. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Good-night, mother. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Kissing him) 
 Sleep tight, dear. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 (Stopping on his way to the stairs) 
 Father? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Yes? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Have you ever seen Santa Claus? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Amused) 
 Seen him? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Really and truly seen him yourself? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 No: I can t say I have. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 159 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Then how do you know there is one? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Well 
 
 THE CHILD 
 If you never saw him? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 My father told me about him. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Did he ever see him? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 No. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Then how did he know? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Well, his father told him about him. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Oh! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 And he learnt from his father, and so on, and so on, 
 way, way back. 
 
160 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Oh. (He thinks.) Does that make it true? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Well 
 
 (He is a little nonplussed) 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Coming to the rescue) 
 Yes, Donald. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 But way, way, way back didn t anybody ever see 
 him? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 Perhaps 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (After a pause) 
 
 If I grow up, and I have a little boy, and I tell him 
 something, and he grows up and tells his little boy 
 something, does that make it true? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Laughing) 
 It s time to go to bed, Donald. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Persisting) 
 But does it make it true? 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 161 
 
 THE FATHER 
 I ll tell you to-morrow, Donald. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 (Looks around in perplexity. Then:) 
 Good-night. (He goes.) 
 
 ( There is a pause. Father and mother watch 
 the child with visible pride as it climbs out 
 of sight. Then:) 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Bright boy, isn t he? My boy! 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Coming to his side) 
 And mine! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (Laughing reminiscently) 
 "Does that make it true?" 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 Well, does it? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 As if it mattered! 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 Mattered ? 
 
162 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 A child can ask questions which a wise man can t 
 answer. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 But a child has beliefs. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 At that age? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 At any age. I can t help thinking that the sooner 
 its beliefs are true beliefs, the better. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Surprised) 
 Are you serious, Mary? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 (Nodding) 
 
 It strikes home sometimes. We re all of us chil 
 dren we " grown-ups." It just depends on the point 
 of view. And we believe exactly what our fathers tell 
 us. Only we don t ask as many questions as children 
 ask and we re not so easily satisfied with the an 
 swers. But when we do ask questions ! 
 
 (She breaks off abruptly.) 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Mary! 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 163 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Shrugging her shoulders) 
 
 I ll get the things. 
 
 (She goes off into the bedroom at the side.) 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Puzzled) 
 
 What do you mean, Mary? (As she does not an 
 swer:) What on earth do you mean? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 (Returning with an armful of bundles) 
 Here is a stocking, Philip. And here are the pres 
 ents. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (Pinning the stocking to the mantel, and arranging 
 
 the bulkier presents on a nearby table) 
 What did you mean by what you said before ? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Shaking her head) 
 
 You mightn t understand, Philip. (She seats her 
 self, and watches him.) You know, when I found 
 out that my parents had been fooling me about Santa 
 Glaus, I resented it. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 At the age of eleven? 
 
164 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 Yes. Very much. That s why I wanted you to 
 tell the truth to Donald long ago. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 . (Vibrating between the stocking and the table) 
 
 And spoil his pleasure? There s always time for 
 that. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 He s as old as I was when I found out. You see, 
 the girls I went around with explained: explained 
 very cruelly, as they explained other things a few 
 years later. My parents never explained anything. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Would you put the marbles in the stocking? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 Yes. At the bottom. (As he proceeds rather awk 
 wardly.) Take the stocking off the mantel. Don t 
 pin it up until you ve filled it. (She pauses.) It s 
 a peculiar world a child lives in. A world where 
 everthing is mysterious and strange, but where every 
 thing is terribly real. A world where everyone be 
 lieves: where everyone questions: where any answer 
 passes for truth. It s a world come to think of it 
 very much like our own world. (She rises slowly and 
 goes to a window, where she pushes aside the cur 
 tains and peers out.) Enough snow in sight to satisfy 
 even Santa Claus, Philip. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 165 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (Who has been so busy arranging the table that he 
 
 has not listened to her) 
 There! How does that look? 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 (Dutifully admiring) 
 
 Very nice, Philip. (She moves towards the bed 
 room.) Coming to bed soon? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 In a few minutes. 
 
 THE MOTHER 
 All right. 
 
 (She goes out.) 
 
 (The father gives the finishing touches to 
 his work; stands off to survey it; pins the 
 bulging stocking to the mantel. Mean 
 while the child, dressed in nightgown and 
 slippers, has come downstairs. For an in 
 stant the father does not see him, and con 
 tinues. Then the child, with a kind of a 
 gasp, comes up to him.) 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Father! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Eh? Donald? But you ought to be in bed! 
 
166 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE CHILD 
 I came down to see. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 You shouldn t have done that. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Father! There isn t any Santa Claus! 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Well, well, so that s it? (He breaks into a peal 
 of laughter.) You had to find it out sooner or later, 
 didn t you? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 You and mother have been giving me ? ( The 
 
 father nods.) Why didn t you tell me? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Why ? Because my father did the same thing, Don 
 ald. ( The child s lip quivers. The father seats him 
 self near the fire.) Come here, Donald. (He takes 
 him on his lap.) Once a year, Donald, we celebrate 
 Christmas. And because we want all the children to 
 be happy when Christmas comes, we tell them this 
 story: that there is a Santa Claus, who loves chil 
 dren, and brings them presents, so that they shall be 
 happy. I believed it when I was a boy, and when you 
 are a man you will tell it to your little boy. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 167 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Even if it isn t true? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Nodding) 
 
 Because it s a beautiful story. Because it will make 
 your children happy just as it has made you happy. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 But if I don t believe it myself ? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 You will want them to believe it. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 Why? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Because it will make them happy. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 Oh! (After a pause.) It s better to be happy 
 than 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Than what? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Than to know what s true, isn t it? 
 
1 68 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (After a pause) 
 Sometimes, Donald. Yes. Sometimes. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 So all fathers tell their children stories like that. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Nodding) 
 They are beautiful stories. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (After a pause) 
 
 Nora told me the Bogie Man lived in the dark. 
 That wasn t a beautiful story. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Smiling) 
 Well? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Is it true ? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 No. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Then why did she tell me? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Because somebody told her that when she was a child. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 169 
 
 THE CHILD 
 They were fooling her, weren t they? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Perhaps they believed it. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Even if it wasn t true? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Perhaps they didn t know. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 Oh! (He thinks.) So some day somebody ll tell 
 them they ve been fooling them like about Santa 
 Claus. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Perhaps. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 And then they ll tell Nora, and Nora ll tell me. 
 (He pauses.) But if they don t tell Nora? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 It s time for you to be in bed, Donald. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 But I want to know! Nora says somebody ll die 
 if you break a mirror. Is that true? 
 
170 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 No. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Nora s been fooling me. 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Because somebody else has been fooling her. You 
 must remember that silly people invent reasons for 
 things they can t understand. Those aren t beautiful 
 stories: we call them superstitions. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Super ? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Superstitions. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Oh! So it isn t bad luck to spill the salt? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Of course not. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Or to walk under a ladder? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Smiling) 
 Where did you learn all of that rubbish? 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 171 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Persisting) 
 And the stork? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 What do you mean? What stork? 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 The stork that brings little babies? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 (Laughing) 
 There isn t any. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Then how do they come? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (Rising) 
 
 I ll explain that to you when you are older, Donald. 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Why not now? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Because you wouldn t understand. Because there 
 are some of the beautiful stories we don t explain 
 until you are grown up. It won t be so long now, 
 Donald. Then I ll tell you. (He swings him up in 
 the air.) Good-night, son. 
 
172 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 (Fascinated by the sight of the full stocking and 
 the Christmas presents as he looks over his father s 
 shoulder.) 
 
 Oh! Is everything there? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Everything ! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Everything I asked for? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 The marbles and the pop-gun 
 
 THE CHILD 
 And the first baseman s mitt? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 Yes. And the really, truly motor! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 Oh! And the candy? 
 
 THE FATHER 
 
 Just wait till to-morrow! (He kisses him; carries 
 him to the staircase and sets him down on the first 
 step.) Good-night, little man! 
 
 THE CHILD 
 (Running upstairs) 
 Good-night, father. 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 173 
 
 THE FATHER 
 (Stands in thought an instant; he smiles. Then, very 
 
 softly, he calls upstairs:) 
 Good-night, little man! 
 
 (He extinguishes the lamps, and then, still 
 smiling, crosses into the bedroom, closing the 
 door behind him.) 
 
 (A pause. The room is lit only by the 
 dying fire, and the furniture has resumed 
 its grotesque dance. Then the white-clad 
 figure of the child becomes visible on the 
 stairs. ) 
 
 THE CHILD 
 
 Father! (There is no answer, but the child evi 
 dently takes a shadow in the corner of the room for 
 the father.) Father! I m not going to say my prayers 
 to-night! (He pauses for an answer. There is none.) 
 Father! I know something else you ve been fooling 
 me about! You ve been fooling me about God! 
 
 (He breaks into childish laughter. Then, 
 suddenly, he sees that the room is empty. 
 This is his opportunity. Noiselessly he 
 crosses to the fireplace, removes the stocking, 
 and walking softly so that he will not be 
 heard, creeps upstairs with it.) 
 
 (A long pause.) 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS 
 
 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
 DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY 
 OVERDUE. * 
 
 OCT 3 1933 
 
 OCT 194933 
 
 y 
 
 tft ^ si 
 
 
 
 &H J- a 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ocp 28 1939 
 
 
 MAR 17 
 
 ST 151940 
 
 941 
 
 
 
 NOV 11 1946 
 
 
 
 
 LD 21-100m-7, 33 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY