A thousand deaths by Jack London

she’s got to marry him.

LORETTA. [Appalled, faintly.] Got to?

BILLY. [Dogmatically.] It is the custom.

LORETTA. [Brokenly.] And when . . . a . . . a woman kisses a man

and doesn’t . . . marry him . . . ?

BILLY. Then there is a scandal. That’s where all the scandals

you see in the papers come from.

[BILLY looks at watch.]

[LORETTA in silent despair.]

LORETTA. [In abasement.] You are a good man, Billy. [Billy

shows that he believes it.] And I am a very wicked woman.

BILLY. No, you’re not, Loretta. You just didn’t know.

LORETTA. [With a gleam of hope.] But you kissed me first.

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BILLY. It doesn’t matter. You let me kiss you.

LORETTA. [Hope dying down.] But not at first.

BILLY. But you did afterward and that’s what counts. You let me

you in the grape-arbour. You let me –

LORETTA. [With anguish] Don’t! Don’t!

BILLY. [Relentlessly.]–kiss you when you were playing the piano.

You let me kiss you that day of the picnic. And I can’t remember

all the times you let me kiss you good night.

LORETTA. [Beginning to weep.] Not more than five.

BILLY. [With conviction.] Eight at least.

LORETTA. [Reproachfully, still weeping.] You told me it was all

right.

BILLY. [Emphatically.] So it was all right–until you said you

wouldn’t marry me after all. Then it was a scandal–only no one

knows it yet. If you marry me no one ever will know it. [Looks

at watch.] I’ve got to go. [Stands up.] Where’s my hat?

LORETTA. [Sobbing.] This is awful.

BILLY. [Approvingly.] You bet it’s awful. And there’s only one

way out. [Looks anxiously about for hat.] What do you say?

LORETTA. [Brokenly.] I must think. I’ll write to you.

[Faintly.] The train? Your hat’s in the hall.

BILLY. [Looks at watch, hastily tries to kiss her, succeeds only

in shaking hand, starts across stage toward left.] All right.

You write to me. Write to-morrow. [Stops for a moment in door-

way and speaks very solemnly.] Remember, Loretta, there must be

no scandal.

[Billy goes out.]

[LORETTA sits in chair quietly weeping. Slowly dries eyes, rises

from chair, and stands, undecided as to what she will do next.]

[NED enters from right, peeping. Discovers that LORETTA is alone,

and comes quietly across stage to her. When NED comes up to her

she begins weeping again and tries to turn her head away. NED

catches both her hands in his and compels her to look at him. She

weeps harder.]

NED. [Putting one arm protectingly around her shoulder and

drawing her toward him.] There, there, little one, don’t cry.

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LORETTA. [Turning her face to his shoulder like a tired child,

sobbing.] Oh, Ned, if you only knew how wicked I am.

NED. [Smiling indulgently.] What is the matter, little one? Has

your dearly beloved sister failed to write to you? [LORETTA

shakes head.] Has Hemingway been bullying you? [LORETTA shakes

head.] Then it must have been that caller of yours? [Long pause,

during which LORETTA’s weeping grows more violent.] Tell me

what’s the matter, and we’ll see what I can do. [He lightly

kisses her hair–so lightly that she does not know.]

LORETTA. [Sobbing.] I can’t. You will despise me. Oh, Ned, I

am so ashamed.

NED. [Laughing incredulously.] Let us forget all about it. I

want to tell you something that may make me very happy. My

fondest hope is that it will make you happy, too. Loretta, I love

you –

LORETTA. [Uttering a sharp cry of delight, then moaning.] Too

late!

NED. [Surprised.] Too late?

LORETTA. [Still moaning.] Oh, why did I? [NED somewhat

stiffens.] I was so young. I did not know the world then.

NED. What is it all about anyway?

LORETTA. Oh, I . . . he . . . Billy . . . I am a wicked woman,

Ned. I know you will never speak to me again.

NED. This . . . er . . . this Billy–what has he been doing?

LORETTA. I . . . he . . . I didn’t know. I was so young. I

could not help it. Oh, I shall go mad, I shall go mad!

[NED’s encircling arm goes limp. He gently disengages her and

deposits her in big chair.]

[LORETTA buries her face and sobs afresh.]

NED. [Twisting moustache fiercely, regarding her dubiously,

hesitating a moment, then drawing up chair and sitting down.] I .

. . I do not understand.

LORETTA. [Wailing.] I am so unhappy!

NED. [Inquisitorially.] Why unhappy?

LORETTA. Because . . . he . . . he wants to marry me.

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NED. [His face brightening instantly, leaning forward and laying

a hand soothingly on hers.] That should not make any girl

unhappy. Because you don’t love him is no reason–[Abruptly

breaking off.] Of course you don’t love him? [LORETTA shakes her

head and shoulders vigorously.] What?

LORETTA. [Explosively.] No, I don’t love Billy! I don’t want to

love Billy!

NED. [With confidence.] Because you don’t love him is no reason

that you should be unhappy just because he has proposed to you.

LORETTA. [Sobbing.] That’s the trouble. I wish I did love him.

Oh, I wish I were dead.

NED. [Growing complacent.] Now my dear child, you are worrying

yourself over trifles. [His second hand joins the first in

holding her hands.] Women do it every day. Because you have

changed your mind, or did not know you mind, because you have–to

use an unnecessarily harsh word–jilted a man –

LORETTA. [Interrupting, raising her head and looking at him.]

Jilted? Oh Ned, if that were a all!

NED. [Hollow voice.] All!

[NED’s hands slowly retreat from hers. He opens his mouth as

though to speak further, then changes his mind and remains

silent.]

LORETTA. [Protestingly.] But I don’t want to marry him!

NED. Then I shouldn’t.

LORETTA. But I ought to marry him.

NED. OUGHT to marry him? [LORETTA nods.] That is a strong word.

LORETTA. [Nodding.] I know it is. [Her lips are trembling, but

she strives for control and manages to speak more calmly.] I am a

wicked woman. A terrible wicked woman. No one knows how wicked I

am . . . except Billy.

NED. [Starting, looking at her queerly.] He . . . Billy knows?

[LORETTA nods. He debates with himself a moment.] Tell me about

it. You must tell me all of it.

LORETTA. [Faintly, as though about to weep again.] All of it?

NED. [Firmly.] Yes, all of it.

LORETTA. [Haltingly.] And . . . will . . . you . . . ever . . .

forgive . . . me?

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NED. [Drawing a long, breath, desperately.] Yes, I’ll forgive

you. Go ahead.

LORETTA. There was no one to tell me. We were with each other so

much. I did not know anything of the world . . . then. [Pauses.]

NED. [Impatiently.] Go on.

LORETTA. If I had only known. [Pauses.]

NED. [Biting his lip and clenching his hands.] Yes, yes. Go on.

LORETTA. We were together almost every evening.

NED. [Savagely.] Billy?

LORETTA. Yes, of course, Billy. We were with each other so much

. . . If I had only known . . . There was no one to tell me . . .

I was so young . . . [Breaks down crying.]

NED. [Leaping to his feet, explosively.] The scoundrel!

LORETTA. [Lifting her head.] Billy is not a scoundrel . . . He .

. . he . . . is a good man.

NED. [Sarcastically.] I suppose you’ll be telling me next that

it was all your fault. [LORETTA nods.] What!

LORETTA. [Steadily.] It was all my fault. I should never have

let him. I was to blame.

NED. [Paces up and down for a minute, stops in front of her, and

speaks with resignation.] All right. I don’t blame you in the

least, Loretta. And you have been very honest. It is . . . er .

. . commendable. But Billy is right, and you are wrong. You must

get married.

LORETTA. [In dim, far-away voice.] To Billy?

NED. Yes, to Billy. I’ll see to it. Where does he live? I’ll

make him. If he won’t I’ll . . . I’ll shoot him!

LORETTA. [Crying out with alarm.] Oh, Ned, you won’t do that?

NED. [Sternly.] I shall.

LORETTA. But I don’t want to marry Billy.

NED. [Sternly.] You must. And Billy must. Do you understand?

It is the only thing.

LORETTA. That’s what Billy said.

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NED. [Triumphantly.] You see, I am right.

LORETTA. And if . . . if I don’t marry him . . . there will be .

. . scandal?

NED. [Calmly.] Yes, there will be scandal.

LORETTA. That’s what Billy said. Oh, I am so unhappy!

[LORETTA breaks down into violent weeping.]

[NED paces grimly up and down, now and again fiercely twisting his