I wish they’d announce what they play as an encore so I can
recognize it.
THE BROWN ONE
We need a Chopin in this country. Do you compose, Mr. Silverton?
THE BLUE ONE
(_Who has come down to_ PATRICIA)
It must be splendid to be a real artist, Miss Tenner, instead of
just having money. _We_ have to be so careful.
(PATRICIA _smiles and nods understandingly throughout_.
SILVERTON, _apparently ill at ease, comes beside_ PATRICIA
_as_ MAVOSKY _is speaking to_ MRS. FROWDE _and the others at
the table_.)
Oh, Mr. Silverton, your playing made me so--so--(_at a loss for
words_) don’t you know?
SILVERTON
(_Stiffly_)
Music is the only mental adventure in good and evil which some of
us ever have.
THE BLUE ONE
How clever of you! I wonder if that’s why I adore Tristan? You will
come to my next Thursday and play for me? _I_ need adventure. (_She
laughs, tremulously_) I’ll have some people there if I may tell
them _you_ are coming.
SILVERTON
(_Hiding his displeasure_)
Charmed.
THE BLUE ONE
(_To_ PATRICIA)
You have a beastly rehearsal then, haven’t you? So sorry.
(PATRICIA _smiles as though regretful, and the three continue
talking_.)
MRS. FROWDE
(_By the table, shaking_ MAVOSKY’S _hand_)
Must you go?
MAVOSKY
Only till luncheon Tuesday.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Aside to him_)
It was good of you to meet her.
MAVOSKY
(_Looking across to_ PATRICIA)
Miss Tenner is a poem in pose.
THE BROWN ONE
(_Who has been manœuvering to be in his line of departure,
as_ MRS. FROWDE _turns to give_ THE GREEN ONE _a cup of tea_.)
M. Mavosky, I’ve heard if you wait at Port Said you’ll sooner or
later meet everyone you know. Here, at Mrs. Frowde’s, one only
meets those one wishes, _n’est-ce pas_?
MAVOSKY
(_Gallantly_)
You American women!
THE BROWN ONE
I’ll bring my husband to see your portraits. May I?
MAVOSKY
(_Bowing_)
_You_ speak for his taste.
THE BROWN ONE
(_Pleased_)
He actually threatens to have one of me, and wishes the very best
that can possibly be painted.
(_They exchange pleasantries, and as_ MAVOSKY _passes out he
glances towards_ PATRICIA, _who has been watching him, while_
SILVERTON _has engaged_ THE BLUE ONE, _who by now has joined_
THE GREEN ONE _and_ THE BROWN ONE _and_ MRS. FROWDE _at the
table. They laugh as_ SILVERTON _and_ PATRICIA _find a chance
to snatch a few words unheard_.)
SILVERTON
(_Referring to_ THE BLUE ONE)
Who is she that I must pay for my tea by playing for her Thursday?
PATRICIA
(_Flippantly_)
Her name begins with T. Her husband owns _The Star_. It’s been good
to me. I call her The Blue One; I no longer remember names. People
are color to me. See the stout one--like an overfed question mark?
She seems brown all through. Have you heard her talk? With her
(_imitating and shrugging shoulders_) “je-ne-sais-quois”? No one
who is fat should speak French. And The Green One--ugh!--with the
jade life-belt!
SILVERTON
(_Seriously_)
Pat, why do you still come to these stupid affairs?
PATRICIA
There are still things _I_ may want, too.
SILVERTON
Mavosky?
PATRICIA
A portrait by him in my new rôle. Yes. Mrs. Frowde knew him.
_Voilà._
SILVERTON
I see: that’s how you still get things.
PATRICIA
Mrs. Frowde is the greatest “lion-hunter” in captivity. She is
happy to-day; she’s caught three of us: a star, a painter, and a
promising musician. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? (_He nods._)
You’ve finally decided to follow the advice I gave you when we
first came East----
SILVERTON
Yes: how different it was then----
PATRICIA
(_Reminiscently_)
Yes--how different!
MRS. FROWDE
(_Gently restraining_ THE BROWN ONE, _who has started
towards_ PATRICIA _and_ SILVERTON)
I’ve heard they had quite a romance once.
THE BROWN ONE
How romantic! I wish my husband played a piano. (_They talk._)
PATRICIA
(_Quietly to_ SILVERTON)
Funny, George, while you were playing I was thinking of when
I hadn’t a job and you were copying for a living. Your music
actually made me want to throw off all my insincerities here just
for once and see what would happen.
SILVERTON
They’d be shocked----
PATRICIA
And I’d be chilly.
SILVERTON
But _I_ couldn’t be of any use to you--_then_.
PATRICIA
No; my “art” wasn’t big enough to succeed by itself alone. I had to
play the game--get influence--(_He protests._) Oh, I know myself,
George; I was cruel to you and all the others. Some day, just to
square myself in my own eyes, I’ll tell people like these here
about my life and how I have always used them to get what I wanted.
SILVERTON
(_Surprised_)
What is the matter, Pat? You’re not yourself.
PATRICIA
(_Smiling_)
I’m having a rush of sincerity to my lips.
SILVERTON
(_Looking over toward the others_)
I wonder what _they_ would say if it slipped out?
PATRICIA
Perhaps they’d say it was “temperament.” I’ve affected it so much I
actually believe I’ve got it.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Laughing with others_)
Mavosky is _so_ clever; he said in America passion was only
sentiment waving a red flag!
THE GREEN ONE
He told me art had no morals and I understood him. He’s so subtle.
SILVERTON
(_To_ PATRICIA)
If I could but make phrases.
PATRICIA
(_Rising, wearily_)
I don’t have to; I smile them.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Coming down anxiously_)
Surely, you’re not going yet, Patricia?
THE GREEN ONE
(_To_ THE BROWN ONE)
She calls her Patricia!
MRS. FROWDE
(_Offering_ PATRICIA _a cup_)
I’ve fixed it the way you like it--no lemon.
PATRICIA
(_Declining_)
You are so thoughtful, dear Emily.
THE GREEN ONE
(_To_ THE BROWN ONE)
Emily!
THE BLUE ONE
(_Coming to_ PATRICIA)
I’m just dying to see your Rosalind.
PATRICIA
(_Beautifully covering with an air of sincerity her mockery which_
SILVERTON _alone detects_)
You may before you do.
THE GREEN ONE
(_In surprise_)
But the papers say----
PATRICIA
You mustn’t believe all you see _there_. My press agent has
imagination.
THE BLUE ONE
(_Cozily to the others_)
Isn’t it splendid to be taken into her confidence.
(PATRICIA _darts a humorous glance at_ SILVERTON.)
THE BROWN ONE
I should think you’d be tired going out so much.
PATRICIA
Mrs. Frowde’s friends are always interesting and proper--a rare
combination. (_Smiling._) Her idea of a tragedy would be a social
mishap--that way.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Protectively_)
I warn her against overtaxing herself--and with that trying part to
play every night.
PATRICIA
Whenever it gets trying to me I think of the audience.
MRS. FROWDE
(_As the others laugh_)
I always said one must have a sense of humor off the stage to play
the parts you do.
PATRICIA
I get my inspiration from my friends; a cup of tea, and brilliant
conversation before the horrid time to go and “make up.”
THE GREEN ONE
Doesn’t all the make-up hurt the complexion?
PATRICIA
(_Sweetly_)
I always use cold cream first--don’t you?
(_An abrupt halt in the laughter comes as_ MISS EVA STANNARD
_enters and pauses momentarily in the doorway_.
MISS STANNARD _is about twenty-nine, tall, vibrant and almost
imperious in bearing. Her forehead is high, her eyes keen and
her mouth thin and tense. She is gowned in gray._
PATRICIA _is immediately interested in her and in the
constrained attitude of the others_.
MISS STANNARD _slowly comes to_ MRS. FROWDE, _bowing
graciously, as she passes, to the others, who return it
with sickly smiles, exchanging secret looks of surprise and
indignation_. MRS. FROWDE _in her obvious embarrassment,
instead of offering her hand, proffers the tea-cup, which_
MISS STANNARD _smilingly declines_. THE BLUE ONE, _with rare
presence of mind, coughs, and the others all laugh nervously,
as though to cover the silence which has ensued_.
PATRICIA _slowly sits again, with_ SILVERTON _standing by her
chair, intensely interested and curious_.)
MISS STANNARD
(_Sweetly_)
I had no idea, Mrs. Frowde, you were receiving formally to-day.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Constrained throughout_)
I only sent out a few special cards to meet Miss Tenner. But now
that you’ve come, let me present you to her. Miss Stannard.
PATRICIA
(_More cordial than ever_)
Miss _Eva_ Stannard? (_Miss Stannard nods._) Oh; I’m indeed glad to
meet you.
MISS STANNARD
(_Formally and a bit puzzled_)
Thanks.
MRS. FROWDE
You know the others?
MISS STANNARD
(_Cordially_)
Oh, yes----
(_The others laugh a little nervously, nod mechanically, with
ill-concealed rudeness._)
MRS. FROWDE
(_Nervously_)
_Do_ have another cup of tea. (_Pause._) What lovely weather we are
having! (_They all agree._) I almost hate to go to Florida this
winter; but it saves fuel.
(MISS STANNARD _declines again and_ SILVERTON _takes the cup
from_ MRS. FROWDE _to the table, returning to_ PATRICIA.
_There is another embarrassing silence in which they all look
at one another. Finally_ THE BROWN ONE _comes to say good-bye
to_ MRS. FROWDE, _whose discomfort increases throughout_.)
Must you really go so soon?
THE BROWN ONE
(_Pointedly_)
Yes; I--I had expected to stay longer, but I’ve just remembered a
most important engagement.
THE BLUE ONE
Can’t I drop you on the way? My car’s waiting.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Distressed_)
Must you, too? But Mr. Silverton has promised to play again.
SILVERTON
(_Significantly_)
An improvisation--prompted by the occasion.
THE BLUE ONE
I’m to hear it Thursday--remember.
(_As_ THE BLUE ONE _and_ THE BROWN ONE _say good-bye to_ MISS
STANNARD, THE GREEN ONE _goes to_ MRS. FROWDE. MISS STANNARD
_being left alone, shows her struggle at self-control and
sits in a chair unasked_. THE BROWN ONE _and_ THE BLUE ONE
_with heads together go out the upper opening_.)
THE GREEN ONE
It’s getting late. I’ve had such a pleasant afternoon. You won’t
forget bridge next Monday?
(MRS. FROWDE _responds limply and as_ THE GREEN ONE _turns_,
MISS STANNARD _rises and halts her with a look_.)
MISS STANNARD
Good afternoon.
MRS. FROWDE
Must you?
THE GREEN ONE
Yes, I’m going to Cartier’s for the prizes. (_To_ PATRICIA) Good
afternoon. (_After a moment’s hesitation._) Good afternoon, Miss
Stannard.
(THE GREEN ONE _goes out as_ MISS STANNARD _eyes_ MRS. FROWDE
_in silence while_ PATRICIA _and_ SILVERTON _speak unheard_.)
PATRICIA
Leave me here alone, George: _this_ is real. I’ve heard about her.
SILVERTON
What are you going to do?
PATRICIA
The cats! There’s something inside me wants to speak. Run along.
I’m feeling that rush of sincerity I spoke of.
SILVERTON
Mrs. Frowde, I leave only because--(_as_ MISS STANNARD _catches
his eye_) Miss Stannard, I’m sorry they did not wait for that
improvisation. But I’m afraid they wouldn’t have understood the
_motif_.
(SILVERTON _goes out_. PATRICIA _leans forward watching the
two, as_ MRS. FROWDE _faces_ MISS STANNARD. _There is an
embarrassing pause._)
MRS. FROWDE
Really, I don’t know what to say. I hardly thought you would
come--under the circumstances.
MISS STANNARD
(_Fencing carefully throughout_)
I’m dreadfully sorry. I did not know it was a select affair. I
thought you were always at home to your friends.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Pointedly_)
Friends--yes.
MISS STANNARD
(_Sweetly_)
Then _I’m_ forgiven?
MRS. FROWDE
I think you must have seen my friends did not remain after you
arrived.
MISS STANNARD
I’m very sorry; but it is they you should criticize for being so
frightfully inconsiderate of you. (_With a sudden firmness_) And
now Mrs. Frowde, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?
MRS. FROWDE
(_Controlling herself with difficulty_)
I feel a strong desire to give it, only I hardly think you would
like me to speak before----
MISS STANNARD
(_Sarcastically_)
Strangers? The resentment was shown before Miss Tenner, why not the
explanation?
PATRICIA
(_Appealing with the usual success to their intimacy._)
Emily, dear, you forget you have already spoken to me of Miss
Stannard. (MISS STANNARD _stiffens_.)
MRS. FROWDE
Wouldn’t it be better if I simply asked you not to call again?
MISS STANNARD
(_With a note of challenge_)
I must insist that you tell me frankly the reason.
MRS. FROWDE
You insist?
MISS STANNARD
Yes.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Bluntly_)
There has been too much talk about you. Surely you must have
realized your name is on every tongue. You know the world: women
can’t do what you have done. You must have been mad--and with a
married man at that!
(PATRICIA _eyes her keenly_. MISS STANNARD _tosses her
head defiantly; but as_ MRS. FROWDE _eyes her piercingly
she seems to lose all her control, begins to tremble,
totters, clutching the back of a chair and finally sinks
with an hysterical sob upon the sofa, burying her face in
her hands. Her vanity-case rattles to the floor._ PATRICIA
_rises instinctively to go to her but sits again as_ MRS.
FROWDE _motions her back and approaches_ MISS STANNARD _less
harshly_.)
I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. Only one must
protect one’s self--one’s friends. I couldn’t have you come here.
(_Slowly_) Oh, well, I’m sure you will see one must draw the line
somewhere.
PATRICIA
(_Impressively_)
Yes, Emily, one must draw the line somewhere. Why didn’t you begin
with me?
(MRS. FROWDE _sits in astonishment as_ PATRICIA _leans
forward. There is a long pause till_ MISS STANNARD _looks up
slowly in wonder and curiosity_.)
I really don’t see why you discriminate.
MRS. FROWDE
But----
PATRICIA
If you and your friends are so shocked by Miss Stannard’s presence,
why should you tolerate me? No one gives us stage people the right
to privacy. Everybody makes it their business to retail our lives.
We’re public property; so surely you and your friends have heard my
story, too. Now, really, haven’t you?
MRS. FROWDE
(_Confused_)
Yes, but--my dear....
PATRICIA
And what have you heard about me? Let’s see if it is correct. My
name? It isn’t my own. My real one wouldn’t look well on the
advertising. Besides, my father hadn’t given me any reason to be
proud of it. My mother may have been a good soul if I had ever
really known her. I’ve always thought I was an unwanted child: I
hate children so myself. But mother couldn’t have been the sort
who’d drink with ease out of your frail tea-cups, and I’ll warrant
no amount of coaching would have kept the veneer from peeling when
she spoke. I grew up somehow among “beer and skittles,” as Trilby
would say; didn’t know what pictures and teas and things were till
I came East. And do you know _how_ I came? _He_ seemed so handsome,
too, in those days.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Moving uneasily as she sees a grim smile come to_ MISS
STANNARD)
But, dear, you were young and----
PATRICIA
Oh, I knew better; but I was bored--bored out there and I wanted
a chance to live. We didn’t get along very well--he and I; partly
my fault. He couldn’t be happy with a woman who also had a spark
of creation tucked away in her soul. Then, besides, I had made up
my mind I’d do something because I had to keep alive. I turned
to the stage--most of us poor fools do. But I happened to have a
way with me and a pair of shoulders that were proud of my face.
(_Sarcastically_.) The critics called it personality. (_Quickly_)
I wonder if you also know I lived in a five-dollar-a-week
boarding-house with circus acrobats on the floor above, a sad
soprano in a closet next to mine and a smell of cooking all over
so I wouldn’t be lonely? (_Almost unconsciously her voice at times
betrays an unexpected commonness._) How I hated it! How I wanted
these feathers and gilt! And every time I made up my face in that
two-by-four part I had, I determined to succeed somehow--_anyhow_.
I deserve every bit of success I’ve got, for I worked hard getting
the burrs out of my speech and some grammar into it. (MRS. FROWDE
_moves uncomfortably again_.) That’s the truth. People suspected
I had a brain and I had; but I wasn’t wasting it on books--I was
studying the hearts and souls of the sort of people I needed to get
along. (_With increasing relish at the effect of her revelations._)
And I saw to succeed in my life I had to grow hard inside and soft
out. So I affected my husky voice and my sad smile; sadness gave
me a touch of mystery and encouraged curiosity. I knew I’d have
to keep my face smooth, too; so I stopped feeling for others and
thought only of myself. Suffering isn’t good for the complexion.
But I helped everybody in convenient ways, because I knew I could
make them help me in greater. And as I began to get along I went
out more to teas and the like so I could meet the people I could
use.
MRS. FROWDE
But, my dear....
PATRICIA
Oh, I’m not ungrateful for their kindness, but I owe them
nothing, for I repaid them, by letting them do things for me.
Yes, it flattered them to have me about and to say they knew me
“intimately.” I was a good asset to their affairs because I was a
success. Then I picked up a lot of cant phrases about art and the
like, so I could prattle; and I even signed articles which somebody
else wrote lamenting the decline of the stage, when I knew in my
heart I was glad things were as they were because I could make more
money with a dramatized novel or a tailor-made part than in my much
advertised and never intended appearance in Shakespeare. (_Acting
as with apparent conviction._) And back of this, life was calling
me. So I did other things to get along. My eyes were open and so
it seems were those of the world. It envied me my freedom because
I was a success. All of us don’t do it, but I did and it wasn’t
always for love. (MISS STANNARD’S _quick breath halts her for a
moment; then she adds dramatically_) Yes, Mrs. Frowde, if you’re
going to draw the line somewhere at your teas, why don’t you begin
with me?
MRS. FROWDE
(_Floundering_)
But--but you forget, dear, you--you are a great creative artist.
PATRICIA
No, I don’t. Everybody’s tolerance of my whims, my moods, my
morals would never let me forget it. But what has that to do with
the right and wrong of it? That’s what you are wondering, Miss
Stannard. (MISS STANNARD _gazes at her_.) I don’t ask any less
charity for myself because my “temperament” has made me live my
life my own way; though I don’t need charity now I’m on top.
(_Surging along effectively._) But why shouldn’t you and your
friends extend that same charity to the rest of the sinners?
(PATRICIA _does not detect_ MISS STANNARD’S _change of manner so
intent is she in her own words_.) You give it to me because I am a
creative artist. Everybody has a bit of the artist in them. Some
of us use it to make bread; others use it to make trouble. All the
nice sinners of the world have the creative spirit, too. Sin is the
creating of the actual out of the imagined. It’s falling over the
fence in a desire to see what is on the other side. (_Consciously
shaping her words and manner to a climax._) But the more so are the
sins one does for love. Love is the most creative of all impulses.
If you forgive me because I’m an artist, as you say; if you can ask
_me_ to sit beside your lily-faced daughters and stubby-chinned
sons; if you can kiss my lips--I, who have openly violated all your
standards--why do you turn against this woman, who has done what
she has for the noblest of motives--love--the love of a man?
MISS STANNARD
(_She has risen tensely and speaks with a biting bitterness_)
I suppose you meant very well, Miss Tenner; you said it just as
though it were a scene in some play--with the proper emphasis and
pause and nice phrases. But believe me, Mrs. Frowde is right:
we can’t judge people by the same standards. (_Contemptuously_)
There _is_ a difference between you and me. _I_ feel it myself.
When I need forgiveness I shall only want it of my own class.
(_Scornfully_) The tolerance of yours means nothing to me. (_Very
quietly_) I am sorry, Mrs. Frowde. I’ll not call again till he and
I are married. Then, of course, it will be all right. Good-bye.
(MISS STANNARD _goes out quickly leaving_ PATRICIA _dumb at
her mis-reading of the situation_.
MRS. FROWDE, _who has been too confused throughout to speak,
now vents her anger on_ MISS STANNARD.)
MRS. FROWDE
The brazen hussy! You see what she is--to insult you so after your
splendid defense of her!
PATRICIA
(_Slowly_)
She was right.
MRS. FROWDE
Not at all. She doesn’t understand the difference with a lady of
temperament.
PATRICIA
Temperament--oh, yes. (_She smiles sarcastically and then looks
surprised at_ MRS. FROWDE.) And you are not angry with me?
MRS. FROWDE
(_Affectionately_)
At _you_, my dear friend? Indeed not. I know you didn’t mean _me_.
And besides I would have understood you if you had.
PATRICIA
(_Eyeing her with undetected cynicism_)
Yes, yes. You would have understood.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Impulsively_)
Won’t you stay and have a bite to eat with me--all alone? I can
drive you to the theater.
PATRICIA
I have an interview.
MRS. FROWDE
(_As they walk to the door_)
Too bad they misquote so.
PATRICIA
Yes, isn’t it? I’ve had such a dear afternoon.
MRS. FROWDE
(_Embracing her affectionately_)
And you’ll come to lunch Tuesday?
PATRICIA
(_As though wishing to escape_)
No ... I....
MRS. FROWDE
(_Solicitously_)
But Mavosky will be here and he’s taken quite fancy to you. Thinks
you’d make a splendid study.
PATRICIA
(_Recalling_)
Mavosky! Oh, yes. I thought you said Wednesday; that’s matinée day.
Tuesday is all right.
MRS. FROWDE
Say at two?
PATRICIA
I may be a moment late.
MRS. FROWDE
We’ll wait for you. (_As they are walking out_) I hope you’ll
forget what _she_ said.
PATRICIA
Oh, Miss Stannard hasn’t any temperament. And it does make a
difference, doesn’t it?
(_They go out leaving the room empty, with the candles on the
table winking in their sockets._)
[CURTAIN]
[D] Copyright by George Middleton. See back of title page.
THE REASON
THE PEOPLE
LOCKSLEY RANDOLPH, _a retired merchant_.
PAULA, _his daughter_.
TOM SABINE, _his secretary_.
MARY SABINE, _his secretary’s wife_.
SCENE
_Sitting-room at the Randolph home in a suburb of the city; an
early winter night._
THE REASON[E]
_A handsomely furnished sitting-room, the general entrance of which
from the floor below is at the right. Beyond this a broad window is
seen as the moonlight faintly filters through the trees outside.
Directly opposite, some smoldering logs betray a fireplace, near
which is another door opening into_ PAULA’S _apartments. Large
double doors in the center open into a hallway leading to library.
A telephone is on a large writing-table, upon which a light, with
a luxurious shade suspended above, casts a strong yellow glow. The
furnishings show signs of tasteless wealth and are devoid of any
feminine touch._
SABINE _and_ RANDOLPH _are bending over some documents_.
SABINE _is about thirty-three, clean-shaven with shrewd eyes and a
conspicuously insinuating smile. The manner with which he feels for
his words and his studied coolness suggest a deep and significant
interest in the developments._
RANDOLPH _is fifty, well-preserved and possessing the assurance of
permanent prosperity: he is apparently without illusions as the
lines about his slightly protruding eyes and thick lips indicate a
dissipated life_.
_Though the two men are obviously considerate, there is concealed
an instinctive mistrust. They are silent a long while until_
RANDOLPH _looks up from the papers_.
SABINE
Anything else?
RANDOLPH
How long will those compilations take?
SABINE
Same as the others.
RANDOLPH
A month each, eh? You’ve done ... let’s see....
SABINE
I’ve been your secretary for three months.
RANDOLPH
And you’ve been at these every evening--ever since I took you in.
SABINE
I wouldn’t put it that way.
RANDOLPH
You are sure you can still find all you need in my own library here?
SABINE
All I need--behind the closed doors.
RANDOLPH
(_Casually_)
I shall see that my orders not to disturb you are continued.
SABINE
I’ve noticed you never even come yourself.
RANDOLPH
I like to think of young genius being left alone.
SABINE
(_Mock seriously_)
And out of harm’s way?
RANDOLPH
Exactly--at night. (_Half to himself._) Another month will about
finish it.
SABINE
(_Significantly_)
Mr. Randolph, you are paying rather high for----
RANDOLPH
(_Eyeing him quickly_)
For what?
SABINE
(_Turning the pages casually_)
Unremunerative work.
RANDOLPH
One never pays too high for what one wants.
SABINE
Not at the time.
(_They look at each other_: SABINE _slowly gathers the papers
together and glances towards_ RANDOLPH _who is coolly staring
before him. There is a quiet pause. Then_ SABINE _opens the
library door and casually steps back_.)