(They are in a canoe, and the sun has just set, leaving behind it
streaks of fading pink in the sky and on the water. It is spring, and
the woods in the distance are losing their starkness. There is no
breeze; the air is full of a premature languor that is not quite warmth.
She lies half-prone, with her hand trailing in the lake; and he paddles
slowly, watching her most of the time.)
_She:_ Ooh, the water’s terribly cold. Have you gone swimming this
spring?
_You:_ Went in last week. But I was sorry. It’s colder than it looks
from the diving-board. I was awfully surprised—it’s such a shock.
_She:_ I wanted to try it today, it looked so warm. But I guess I’ll
wait a while. Last year, all summer, we just lived in our suits. My suit
was never dry. Don’t you love to swim? It’s my favorite exercise.
_You:_ I think I like sailing better. It’s so fast.
_She:_ Then you ought to like ice-boating. It’s much faster.
_You:_ No. It’s too noisy. Fast things ought to be quiet. That’s the
trouble with flying in a machine. It isn’t really flying unless you have
wings. That must be the best feeling in the world. Flying in a storm....
_She:_ I wouldn’t want the storm. I haven’t that much pep. Swimming’s
nice because you can lie around so much.
_You:_ You’re a lazy little thing, aren’t you?
_She:_ That’s what they say at home.
_You:_ I like it. I hate these girls who are always trying to be better
than you are in everything. They’re usually funny-looking, too. If they
were pretty they wouldn’t worry so much about beating people.
_She:_ You have such old-fashioned ideas. Well, I guess you’re right. I
like to be waited on. People do things for me. I like it.... Oh, look at
that cloud. It’s getting rougher than it was—We must be drifting out.
_You:_ Yes, it goes faster than you’d think. There’s a little wind
blowing up. (Starts paddling fast.)
_She:_ Going anywhere?
_You:_ Well, I know a place that is pretty sheltered. Say, I’m getting
cold up here. Do you mind if I get down there with you?
_She:_ No, that’s all right.
(You start to step over the intervening bar, and the canoe sways
dangerously. She screams loudly.)
_She:_ Look OUT! You’re tipping us!
_You:_ (Laughing and settling down next to her) Gosh, what a funny
squeal! I never tip canoes: don’t you know that? Have a cigarette.
_She:_ Thanks. The lake looks pretty, doesn’t it? Just in this light.
_You:_ Did you ever notice, it’s never the same. Look at that boat way
over there.
_She:_ It looks so little.
_You:_ It’s funny. This is a little lake, but that boat looks tiny on it
just the same.
_She:_ (Uncomprehending) Yes.
_You:_ I mean we’re really awfully small when you think about things.
Stars and things. Look at that star there——
_She:_ First one! I’ll wish on it. (She closes her eyes.)
_You:_ It’s a little bit of a star, but I wonder what it thinks about
us. Probably it doesn’t even know you’re wishing on it. Just think, it
can’t even see us. Just a little spot of light.
_She:_ I don’t like to feel that way. I want to be seen.
_You:_ I think it’s a good feeling to know that I don’t matter so much.
I always remember it when I’m worried about an exam. It’s a bad habit,
though, because if you start remembering it too soon you don’t even
bother to study.
_She:_ I shouldn’t think anybody would. I never feel that way unless I
need sleep. I hate it; feeling that way.
_You:_ You’re too practical. I think I have more fun my way. (Smile at
her and flick your cigarette into the water.)
_She:_ I don’t see that. I don’t worry, anyway.
_You:_ No, but look. You take exams seriously and spend all your time
studying or fixing clothes or something. Something really important.
Don’t you?
_She:_ Yes. Only the thing I worry about most is dancing. That’s
important too.
_You:_ Well, look at it my way. Look how long the world has been going
on without me and my exams. Look how long it will go on, probably, after
I’m dead. Look how short life is anyway.
_She:_ Yes....
_You:_ Well, I just do what I like. Studying isn’t one of those things,
see? Nobody really likes to study.
_She:_ I do.
_You:_ No you don’t. You don’t really like to keep your stockings
mended, or your hair curled. You just like the feeling afterwards that
you did what you should have done. Isn’t it true? Well, then, if someone
hadn’t taught you to like that feeling you wouldn’t be doing those
things. Now, the things I like, I wasn’t taught. I like to eat. Nobody
ever had to tell me to do that. I like to sleep, and swim, and sail, and
kiss girls, just because it’s fun. Itself. No reason for it, except that
if I keep on this way I can go on doing these things and having fun
until I die. I won’t want to die, then.
_She:_ Well, I think you’re the lazy one. Where would we all be?...
_You:_ I don’t know, but wherever it was we’d probably like it just as
well.
(Lean over suddenly and kiss her.)
_She:_ Don’t do that!
_You:_ Why not? (Kiss her again.)
_She:_ Stop. Why should I?
_You:_ There you go again, asking questions. Why? Because it’s fun.
_She:_ I don’t think it’s so much fun.
_You:_ You haven’t really tried. Give me a chance. (Kiss her again.) Now
what do you think of it?
_She:_ Not very much. Let’s go on talking instead.
_You:_ That’s queer. You always tell me I talk too much. I think you
don’t mind this so much as you say.
_She:_ You want to think so. I just don’t see why it’s so wonderful. I
couldn’t possibly rave the way you do, that’s all.
_You:_ I don’t rave. It’s because I know what I’m talking about and you
don’t.
_She:_ You have a lot of nerve.
_You:_ Well, you can see for yourself that you’re no judge. You don’t
know anything about it. You said so yourself. And besides, if you’re
going to do so much talking about it you’re wasting time until you know
something.
_She:_ It’s no use trying to argue with you, is it? I’m going home.
_You:_ Now you’re just running away because you lost the argument. It
isn’t my fault. You said you wanted me to talk. All right; I’ll stop
talking.
(Kiss her.)
_She:_ No, I didn’t mean that. Stop. Please stop.
_You:_ No, I won’t. You need convincing.
_She:_ But....
_You:_ You mustn’t talk for five minutes. That’s reasonable, isn’t it?
Five minutes!
_She:_ All right. (Seven minutes elapse.) The five minutes must be up.
_You:_ What did you say?
_She:_ The five minutes are over.
_You:_ What of it? What’s five minutes when the whole evening will be
over in a short time? All of the evenings will be over some day. And
you’re quarreling about five minutes. Oh, stop talking!
_She:_ But.... Oh, all right.