Plays by Susan Glaspell Part 19

CLAIRE: (_who has gone over to the window_) And this neurologist can make me happy?

HARRY: Can make you well--and then you'll be happy.

ADELAIDE: (_in the voice of now fixing it all up_) And I had just an idea about Elizabeth. Instead of working with mere plants, why not think of Elizabeth as a plant and--

(CLAIRE, _who has been looking out of the window, now throws open one of the panes that swings out--or seems to, and calls down in great excitement._)

CLAIRE: Tom! _Tom!_ Quick! Up here! I'm in trouble!

HARRY: (_going to the window_) That's a rotten thing to do, Claire!

You've frightened him.

CLAIRE: Yes, how fast he can run. He was deep in thought and I stabbed right through.

HARRY: Well, he'll be none too pleased when he gets up here and finds there was no reason for the stabbing!

(_They wait for his footsteps,_ HARRY _annoyed,_ ADELAIDE _offended, but stealing worried looks at_ CLAIRE, _who is looking fixedly at the place in the floor where_ TOM _will appear.--Running footsteps._)

TOM: (_his voice getting there before he does_) Yes, Claire--yes--yes--(_as his head appears_) What is it?

CLAIRE: (_at once presenting him and answering his question_) My sister.

TOM: (_gasping_) Oh,--why--is that all? I mean--how do you do? Pardon, I (_panting_) came up--rather hurriedly.

HARRY: If you want to slap Claire, Tom, I for one have no objection.

CLAIRE: Adelaide has the most interesting idea, Tom. She proposes that I take Elizabeth and roll her in the gutter. Just let her lie there until she breaks up into--

ADELAIDE: _Claire!_ I don't see how--even in fun--pretty vulgar fun--you can speak in those terms of a pure young girl. I'm beginning to think I had better take Elizabeth.

CLAIRE: Oh, I've thought that all along.

ADELAIDE: And I'm also beginning to suspect that--oddity may be just a way of s.h.i.+fting responsibility.

CLAIRE: (_cordially interested in this possibility_) Now you know--that might be.

ADELAIDE: A mother who does not love her own child! You are an unnatural woman, Claire.

CLAIRE: Well, at least it saves me from being a natural one.

ADELAIDE: Oh--I know, you think you have a great deal! But let me tell you, you've missed a great deal! You've never known the faintest stirring of a mother's love.

CLAIRE: That's not true.

HARRY: No. Claire loved our boy.

CLAIRE: I'm glad he didn't live.

HARRY: (_low_) Claire!

CLAIRE: I loved him. Why should I want him to live?

HARRY: Come, dear, I'm sorry I spoke of him--when you're not feeling well.

CLAIRE: I'm feeling all right. _Just_ because I'm seeing something, it doesn't mean I'm sick.

HARRY: Well, let's go down now. About dinner-time. I shouldn't wonder if Emmons were here. (_as ADELAIDE is starting down stairs_) Coming, Claire?

CLAIRE: No.

HARRY: But it's time to go down for dinner.

CLAIRE: I'm not hungry.

HARRY: But we have a guest. Two guests--Adelaide's staying too.

CLAIRE: Then you're not alone.

HARRY: But I invited Dr Emmons to meet you.

CLAIRE: (_her smile flas.h.i.+ng_) Tell him I am violent to-night.

HARRY: Dearest--how can you joke about such things!

CLAIRE: So you do think they're serious?

HARRY: (_irritated_) No, I do not! But I want you to come down for dinner!

ADELAIDE: Come, come, Claire; you know quite well this is not the sort of thing one does.

CLAIRE: Why go on saying one doesn't, when you are seeing one does (_to_ TOM) Will you stay with me a while? I want to purify the tower.

(ADELAIDE _begins to disappear_)

HARRY: Fine time to choose for a _tete-a-tete. (as he is leaving_) I'd think more of you, Edgeworthy, if you refused to humour Claire in her ill-breeding.

ADELAIDE: (_her severe voice coming from below_) It is not what she was taught.

CLAIRE: No, it's not what I was taught, (_laughing rather timidly_) And perhaps you'd rather have your dinner?

TOM: No.

CLAIRE: We'll get something later. I want to talk to you. (_but she does not--laughs_) Absurd that I should feel bashful with you. Why am I so awkward with words when I go to talk to you?

TOM: The words know they're not needed.

CLAIRE: No, they're not needed. There's something underneath--an open way--down below the way that words can go. (_rather desperately_) It is there, isn't it?

TOM: Oh, yes, it is there.