moustache.]
LORETTA. [Face buried, sobbing and crying all the time.]
I don’t want to leave Daisy! I don’t want to leave Daisy! What
shall I do? What shall I do? How was I to know? He didn’t tell
me. Nobody else ever kissed me. [NED stops curiously to listen.
As he listens his face brightens.] I never dreamed a kiss could
be so terrible . . . until . . . until he told me. He only told
me this morning.
NED. [Abruptly.] Is that what you are crying about?
LORETTA. [Reluctantly.] N-no.
NED. [In hopeless voice, the brightness gone out of his face,
about to begin pacing again.] Then what are you crying about?
LORETTA. Because you said I had to marry Billy. I don’t want to
marry Billy. I don’t want to leave Daisy. I don’t know what I
want. I wish I were dead.
NED. [Nerving himself for another effort.] Now look here,
Loretta, be sensible. What is this about kisses? You haven’t
told me everything after all.
LORETTA. I . . . I don’t want to tell you everything.
NED. [Imperatively.] You must.
LORETTA. [Surrendering.] Well, then . . . must I?
NED. You must.
LORETTA. [Floundering.] He . . . I . . . we . . . I let him,
and he kissed me.
NED. [Desperately, controlling himself.] Go on.
LORETTA. He says eight, but I can’t think of more than five
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times.
NED. Yes, go on.
LORETTA. That’s all.
NED. [With vast incredulity.] All?
LORETTA. [Puzzled.] All?
NED. [Awkwardly.] I mean . . . er . . . nothing worse?
LORETTA. [Puzzled.] Worse? As though there could be. Billy
said –
NED. [Interrupting.] When?
LORETTA. This afternoon. Just now. Billy said that my . . . our
. . . our . . . our kisses were terrible if we didn’t get married.
NED. What else did he say?
LORETTA. He said that when a woman permitted a man to kiss her
she always married him. That it was awful if she didn’t. It was
the custom, he said; and I say it is a bad, wicked custom, and it
has broken my heart. I shall never be happy again. I know I am
terrible, but I can’t help it. I must have been born wicked.
NED. [Absent-mindedly bringing out a cigarette and striking a
match.] Do you mind if I smoke? [Coming to himself again, and
flinging away match and cigarette.] I beg your pardon. I don’t
want to smoke. I didn’t mean that at all. What I mean is . . .
[He bends over LORETTA, catches her hands in his, then sits on arm
of chair, softly puts one arm around her, and is about to kiss
her.]
LORETTA. [With horror, repulsing him.] No! No!
NED. [Surprised.] What’s the matter?
LORETTA. [Agitatedly.] Would you make me a wickeder woman than I
am?
NED. A kiss?
LORETTA. There will be another scandal. That would make two
scandals.
NED. To kiss the woman I love . . . a scandal?
LORETTA. Billy loves me, and he said so.
NED. Billy is a joker . . . or else he is as innocent as you.
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LORETTA. But you said so yourself.
NED. [Taken aback.] I?
LORETTA. Yes, you said it yourself, with your own lips, not ten
minutes ago. I shall never believe you again.
NED. [Masterfully putting arm around her and drawing her toward
him.] And I am a joker, too, and a very wicked man.
Nevertheless, you must trust me. There will be nothing wrong.
LORETTA. [Preparing to yield.] And no . . . scandal?
NED. Scandal fiddlesticks. Loretta, I want you to be my wife.
[He waits anxiously.]
[JACK HEMINGWAY, in fishing costume, appears in doorway to right
and looks on.]
NED. You might say something.
LORETTA. I will . . . if . . .
[ALICE HEMINGWAY appears in doorway to left and looks on.]
NED. [In suspense.] Yes, go on.
LORETTA. If I don’t have to marry Billy.
NED. [Almost shouting.] You can’t marry both of us!
LORETTA. [Sadly, repulsing him with her hands.] Then, Ned, I
cannot marry you.
NED. [Dumbfounded.] W-what?
LORETTA. [Sadly.] Because I can’t marry both of you.
NED. Bosh and nonsense!
LORETTA. I’d like to marry you, but . . .
NED. There is nothing to prevent you.
LORETTA. [With sad conviction.] Oh, yes, there is. You said
yourself that I had to marry Billy. You said you would s-s-shoot
him if he didn’t.
NED. [Drawing her toward him.] Nevertheless . . .
LORETTA. [Slightly holding him off.] And it isn’t the custom . .
. what . . . Billy said?
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NED. No, it isn’t the custom. Now, Loretta, will you marry me?
LORETTA. [Pouting demurely.] Don’t be angry with me, Ned. [He
gathers her into his arms and kisses her. She partially frees
herself, gasping.] I wish it were the custom, because now I’d
have to marry you, Ned, wouldn’t I?
[NED and LORETTA kiss a second time and profoundly.]
[JACK HEMINGWAY chuckles.]
[NED and LORETTA, startled, but still in each other’s arms, look
around. NED looks sillily at ALICE HEMINGWAY. LORETTA looks at
JACK HEMINGWAY.]
LORETTA. I don’t care.
CURTAIN
THE BIRTH MARK
SKETCH BY JACK LONDON written for Robert and Julia Fitzsimmons
SCENE–One of the club rooms of the West Bay Athletic Club. Near
centre front is a large table covered with newspapers and
magazines. At left a punching-bag apparatus. At right, against
wall, a desk, on which rests a desk-telephone. Door at rear
toward left. On walls are framed pictures of pugilists,
conspicuous among which is one of Robert Fitzsimmons. Appropriate
furnishings, etc., such as foils, clubs, dumb-bells and trophies.
[Enter MAUD SYLVESTER.]
[She is dressed as a man, in evening clothes, preferably a Tuxedo.
In her hand is a card, and under her arm a paper-wrapped parcel.
She peeps about curiously and advances to table. She is timorous
and excited, elated and at the same time frightened. Her eyes are
dancing with excitement.]
MAUD. [Pausing by table.] Not a soul saw me. I wonder where
everybody is. And that big brother of mine said I could not get
in. [She reads back of card.] “Here is my card, Maudie. If you
can use it, go ahead. But you will never get inside the door. I
consider my bet as good as won.” [Looking up, triumphantly.] You
do, do you? Oh, if you could see your little sister now. Here
she is, inside. [Pauses, and looks about.] So this is the West
Bay Athletic Club. No women allowed. Well, here I am, if I don’t
look like one. [Stretches out one leg and then the other, and
looks at them. Leaving card and parcel on table, she struts
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66
around like a man, looks at pictures of pugilists on walls,
reading aloud their names and making appropriate remarks. But she
stops before the portrait of Fitzsimmons and reads aloud.]
“Robert Fitzsimmons, the greatest warrior of them all.” [Clasps
hands, and looking up at portrait murmurs.] Oh, you dear!
[Continues strutting around, imitating what she considers are a
man’s stride and swagger, returns to table and proceeds to unwrap
parcel.] Well, I’ll go out like a girl, if I did come in like a
man. [Drops wrapping paper on table and holds up a woman’s long
automobile cloak and a motor bonnet. Is suddenly startled by
sound of approaching footsteps and glances in a frightened way
toward door.] Mercy! Here comes somebody now! [Glances about
her in alarm, drops cloak and bonnet on floor close to table,
seizes a handful of newspapers, and runs to large leather chair to
right of table, where she seats herself hurriedly. One paper she
holds up before her, hiding her face as she pretends to read.
Unfortunately the paper is upside down. The other papers lie on
her lap.]
[Enter ROBERT FITZSIMMONS.]
[He looks about, advances to table, takes out cigarette case and
is about to select one, when he notices motor cloak and bonnet on
floor. He lays cigarette case on table and picks them up. They
strike him as profoundly curious things to be in a club room. He
looks at MAUD, then sees card on table. He picks it up and reach
it to himself, then looks at her with comprehension. Hidden by
her newspaper, she sees nothing. He looks at card again and reads
and speaks in an aside.]
FITZSIMMONS. “Maudie. John H. Sylvester.” That must be Jack
Sylvester’s sister Maud. [FITZSIMMONS shows by his expression
that he is going to play a joke. Tossing cloak and bonnet under
the table he places card in his vest pocket, selects a chair, sits
down, and looks at MAUD. He notes paper is upside down, is hugely
tickled, and laughs silently.] Hello! [Newspaper is agitated by
slight tremor. He speaks more loudly.] Hello! [Newspaper shakes