A play, Strange interlude

Front matter

t hi

Qw*.

V r.

Act One

Scene: The library of Professor Leeds’ home in a small university town in New England. This room is at the front part of his house with windows opening on the strip of lawn between the house and the quiet residential street. It is a small room with a low ceiling. The furniture has been selected with a love for old New England pieces. The walls are lined almost to the ceiling with glassed-in bookshelves. These are packed with books, principally editions, many of them old and rare, of the ancient classics in the original Greek and Latin, of the later classics in French and German and Italian, of all the English authors who wrote while s was still like an f and a few since then, the most modern probably being Thackeray. The atmosphere of the room is that of a cosy, cultured retreat, sedulously built as a sanctuary where, secure with the culture of the past at his back, a fugitive from reality can view the present safely from a distance, as a superior with con¬ descending disdain, pity, and even amusement .

There is a fair-sized table, a heavy armchair, a rocker, and an old bench made comfortable with cushions. The table, with the Professor’s armchair at its left, is ar¬ ranged toward the left of the room, the rocker is at

center, the bench at right.

II

There is one entrance, a door in the right wall, rear.

It is late afternoon of a day in August. Sunshine, cooled, and dimmed in the shade of trees, fills the room with a soothing light.

The sound of a Maid’s Voice — a middle-aged woman — explaining familiarly hut respectfully from the right, and Marsden enters. He is a tall thin man of thirty-five, meticulously well-dressed in tweeds of distinctly English tailoring, his appearance that of an Anglicized New England gentleman. His face is too long for its width, his nose is high and narrow, his forehead broad, his mild blue eyes those of a dreamy self-analyst, his thin lips ironical and a bit sad. There is an indefinable feminine quality about him, but it is nothing apparent in either appearance or act. His manner is cool and poised. He speaks with a careful ease as one who listens to his own conversation. He has long fragile hands, and the stoop to his shoulders of a man weak muscularly, who has never liked athletics and has always been regarded as of delicate constitution. The main point about his person¬ ality is a quiet charm, a quality of appealing, inquisitive friendliness, always willing to listen, eager to sympa¬ thize, to like and to be liked.

[ Standing just inside the door , his tall , stooped figure leaning back against the books — nodding back at the maid and smiling kindly ]

I’ll wait in here, Mary.

[His eyes follow her for a second, then return to gaze around the room slowly with an appreciative relish for the familiar significance of the books. He smiles affec¬ tionately and his amused voice recites the words with a rhetorical resonance ]

Sanctum Sanctorum !

[His voice takes on a monotonous musing quality, his eyes stare idly at his drifting thoughts ]

How perfectly the Professor’s unique haven ! . . .

[He smiles ]

[Looking at the books now]

He hasn’t added one book in years . . . how old was I when I first came here? . . . six . . . with my father . . . father . . . how dim his face has grown ! ... he wanted to speak to me just before he died . . . the hospital . . . smell of iodoform in the cool halls . . . hot summer ... I bent down . . . his voice had with¬ drawn so far away ... I couldn’t understand him . . . what son can ever understand? . . . always too near, too soon, too distant or too late ! . . .

[His face has become sad with a memory of the be¬ wildered suffering of the adolescent boy he had been at the time of his father’s death. Then he shakes his head, flinging off his thoughts, and makes himself walk about the room]

What memories on such a smiling afternoon ! . . . this pleasant old town after three months ... I won’t go to Europe again . . . couldn’t write a line there . . . how answer the fierce question of all those dead and maimed? . . . too big a job for me! . . .

[He sighs — then self -mockingly]

But back here . . . rt is the interlude that gently ques¬ tions ... in this town dozing . . . decorous bodies mov¬ ing with circumspection through the afternoons . . . their habits affectionately chronicled ... an excuse for weaving amusing words . . . my novels . . . not of cosmic importance, hardly . . .

[Then self -reassuringly]

but there is a public to cherish them, evidently . . . and I can write ! . . . more than one can say of these modern sex-yahoos ! . . . I must start work tomorrow . . . I’d like to use the Professor in a novel sometime . . . and his wife . . . seems impossible she’s been dead six years ... so aggressively his wife ! . . . poor Professor ! now it’s Nina who bosses him . . . but that’s dif¬ ferent . . . she has bossed me, too, ever since she was a baby . . . she’s a woman now . . . known love and death . . . Gordon brought down in flames . . . two days before the armistice . . . what fiendish irony! . . . his wonderful athlete’s body . . . her lover . . . charred bones in a cage of twisted steel ... no wonder she broke down . . . Mother said she’s become quite queer lately . . . Mother seemed jealous of my concern . . . why have I never fallen in love with Nina? . . . could I? that way . . . used to dance her on my knee ... sit her on my lap . . . even now she’d never think anything about it . . . but sometimes the scent of her hair and skin . . . like a dreamy drug . . . dreamy ! . . . there’s the rub! ... all dreams with me! . . . my sex life among the phantoms ! . . .

[He grins torturedly ]

Why? . . . oh, this digging in gets nowhere ... to the devil with sex! . . . our impotent pose of today to beat the loud drum on fornication ! . . . boasters eunuchs parading with the phallus! . . . giving them¬ selves away . . . whom do they fool? . . . not even themselves ! . . .

[His face suddenly full of an intense pain and disgust J Ugh! . . . always that memory! . . . wily can’t I ever forget? ... as sickeningly clear as if it were yesterday . . . prep school’. . . Easter vacation . . . Fatty Boggs and Jack Frazer . . . that house of cheap vice . . . one dollar! . . . why did I go? . . . Jack, the dead game sport . . . how I admired him ! . . . afraid of his taunts ... he pointed to the Italian girl . . . “Take her !” . . . daring me ... I went . . . miserably fright¬ ened . . . what a pig she was ! . . . pretty vicious face under caked powder and rouge . . . surly and contemptu¬ ous . . . lumpy body . . . short legs and thick ankles . . . slums of Naples . . . “What you gawkin’ about? Git a move on, kid” . . . kid ! . . . I was only a kid ! . . . six¬ teen . . . test of manhood . . . ashamed to face Jack again unless . . . fool ! . . . I might have lied to him !

. . . but I honestly thought that wench would feel humili¬ ated if I . . . oh, stupid kid ! . . . back at the hotel I waited till they were asleep . . . then sobbed . . . think¬ ing of Mother . . . feeling I had defiled her . . . and myself . . . forever ! . . .

[ Mocking bitterly ]

“Nothing half so sweet in life as love’s young dream,” what? . . .

[He gets to his feet impatiently~\

Why does my mind always have to dwell on that? . . . too silly ... no importance really ... an incident such as any boy of my age . . .

[He hears someone coming quickly from the right and turns expectantly. Professor Leeds enters, a pleased relieved expression fighting the flurried worry on his face. He is a small, slender man of fifty-five, his hair gray, the top of his head bald. His face, prepossessing in spite of its too-small, over-refined features, is that of a retir¬ ing, studious nature. ,He has intelligent eyes and a smile that can be ironical. Temperamentally timid, his defense is an assumption of his complacent, superior manner of the classroom toward the world at large. This defense is strengthened by a natural tendency toward a prim provin¬ cialism where practical present-day considerations are concerned ( though he is most liberal — even radical — in his tolerant understanding of the manners and morals of Greece and Imperial Rome!'). This classroom poise of his, however, he cannot quite carry off outside the class¬ room. There is an unconvincing quality about it that leaves his larger audience — and particularly the Pro¬ fessor himself — subtly embarrassed. As Marsden is one of his old students, whom, in addition, he has known from childhood, he is perfectly at ease with him ]

[. Holding out his hand — with unmistakable liking ]

Here I am again, Professor!

PROFESSOR DEEDS

[ Shaking his hand and patting him on the back — with genuine affection ]

So glad to see you, Charlie! A surprise, too! We didn’t expect you back so soon!

[He sits in his chair on the left of the table while Mars¬ den sits in the rocker~\

[Looking away from Marsden a moment, his face now full of selfish relief as he thinks']

Fortunate, his coming back . . . always calming influ¬ ence on Nina . . .

And I never dreamed of returning so soon. But Europe, Professor, is the big casualty they were afraid to set down on the list.

PROFESSOR LEEDS [His face clouding ]

Yes, I suppose you found everything completely changed since before the war.

[He thinks resentfully ]

The war . . . Gordon ! . . .

Europe has “gone west” —

[He smiles whimsically ] to America, let’s hope !

[ Then frowningly ]

I couldn’t stand it. There were millions sitting up with the corpse already, who had a family right to be there —

[Then matter-of -factly ]

I was wasting my time, too. I couldn’t write a line.

[Then gaily ]

But where’s Nina? I must see Nina !

She’ll be right in. She said she wanted to finish thinking something out — You’ll find Nina changed, Charlie, greatly changed !

[He sighs — thinking with a trace of guilty alarm\

The first thing she said at breakfast ... “I dreamed of Gordon” ... as if she wanted to taunt me ! . . . how absurd ! . . . her eyes positively glared ! . . . [Suddenly blurting out resentfully ]

She dreams about Gordon.

[Looking at him with amused surprise ]

Well, I’d hardly call that a change, would you?

PROFESSOR LEEDS [ Thinking , oblivious to this remark ]

But I must constantly bear in mind that she s not her¬ self . . . that she’s a sick girl . . .

The morning news of Gordon’s death came . . . her face like gray putty . . . beauty gone . . . no face can afford intense grief . . . it’s only later when sorrow . . .

[With concern~\

Just what do you mean by changed, Professor? Before I left she seemed to be coming out of that horrible numbed calm.

PROFESSOR REEDS

[Slowly and carefully ]

Yes, she has played a lot of golf and tennis this summer, motored around with her friends, and even danced a good deal. And she eats with a ravenous appetite.

Breakfast . . . “dreamed of Gordon” . . . what a look of hate for me in her eyes ! . . .

But that sounds splendid! When I left she wouldn’t see anyone or go anywhere.

[Thinking pityingly ]

Wandering from room to room . . . her thin body and pale lost face . . . gutted, love-abandoned eyes! . . .

PROFESSOR REEDS

Well, now she’s gone to the opposite extreme! Sees every one — bores, fools — as if she’d lost all discrimination or wisl to discriminate. And she talks interminably, Charlie — in¬ tentional nonsense, one would say! Refuses to be serious! Jeers at everything!

[ Consolingly ]

Oh, that’s all undoubtedly part of the effort she’s making to forget.

Yes.

[Arguing with himself ]

Shall I tell him? ... no ... it might sound silly . . . but it’s terrible to be so alone in this ... if Nina’s mother had lived . . . my wife . . . dead ! . . . and for a time I actually felt released ! . . . wife ! . . . help¬ meet ! . . . now I need help ! ... no use ! . . . she’s gone ! . . .

[Watching him — thinking with a condescending affection ] Good little man ... he looks worried . . . always fuss¬ ing about something ... he must get on Nina’s nerves. . . .

[Reassuringly]

No girl could forget Gordon in a hurry, especially after the shock of his tragic death.

[Irritably] f

I realize that.

Gordon . . . always Gordon with everyone! . . .

By the way, I located the spot near Sedan where Gordon’s machine fell. Nina ashed me to, you know.

PROFESSOR FEEDS [ Irritated — expostulatingly~\

For heaven’s sake, don’t remind her ! Give her a chance to forget if you want to see her well again. After all, Charlie, life must be lived and Nina can’t live with a corpse forever !

[ Trying to control his irritation and talk in an objective fone]

You see, I’m trying to see things through clearly and un¬ sen timentally. If you’ll remember, I was as broken up as anyone over Gordon’s death. I’d become so reconciled to Nina’s love for him — although, as you know, I was opposed at first, and for fair reasons, I think, for the boy, for all his good looks and prowess in sport and his courses, really came of common people and had no money of his own except as he made a career for himself.

[ A trifle defensively ]

I’m sure he would have had a brilliant career.

PROFESSOR FEEDS

[ Impatiently ]

No doubt. Although you must acknowledge, Charlie, that college heroes rarely shine brilliantly in after life. Un¬ fortunately, the tendency to spoil them in the university is a poor training —

But Gordon was absolutely unspoiled, I should say.

f

[ Heatedly ]

Don’t misunderstand me, Charlie! I’d be the first to ac¬ knowledge —

[ A bit pathetically ]

It isn’t Gordon, Charlie. It’s his memory, his ghost, you might call it, haunting Nina, whose influence I have come to dread because of the terrible change in her attitude toward me.

[His face twitches as if he were on the verge of tears— he thinks desperately ]

I’ve got to tell him . . . he will see that I acted for the best . . . that I was justified. . . .

[He hesitates — then blurts out ]

It may sound incredible, but Nina has begun to act as if she hated me !

[ Startled ]

Oh, come now !

[ Insistently ]

Absolutely ! I haven’t wanted to admit it. I’ve refused to believe it, until it’s become too appallingly obvious in her whole attitude toward me !

[His voice trembles ]

[ Moved — expostulating ]

Oh, now you’re becoming morbid ! Why, Nina has always idolized you! What possible reason — ?

[ Quickly ]

I can answer that, I think. She has a reason. But why she should blame me when she must know I acted for the test — You probably don’t know, but just before he sailed for the front Gordon wanted their marriage to take place, and Nina consented. In fact, from the insinuations she lets drop now, she must have been most eager, but at the time — However, I felt it was ill-advised and I took Gordon aside and pointed out to him that such a precipitate marriage would be unfair to Nina, and scarcely honorable on his part.

[ Staring at him wonderingly~\

You said that to Gordon?

A shrewd move! . . . Gordon’s proud spot, fairness and

honor ! . . . but was it honorable of you ? . . .

[With a touch of asperity ]

Yes, I said it, and I gave him my reason. There was the possibility he might be killed, in the flying service rather more than a possibility, which needless to say, I did not point out, but which Gordon undoubtedly realized, poor boy ! If he were killed, he would be leaving Nina a widow, perhaps with a baby, with no resources, since he was penniless, except what pension she might get from the government; and all this while she was still at an age when a girl, especially one of Nina’s charm and beauty, should have all of life before her. Decidedly, I told him, in justice to Nina, they must wait until he had come back and^begun to establish his posi¬ tion in the world. That was the square thing. And Gordon was quick to agree with me !

The square thing ! . . . but we must all be crooks where happiness is concerned ! . . . steal or starve ! . . .

[ Then rather ironically]

And so Gordon told Nina he’d suddenly realized it wouldn’t be fair to her. But I gather he didn’t tell her it was your scruple originally?

PEOFESSOE LEEDS

No, I asked him to keep what I said strictly confidential.

[ Thinking ironically ]

Trusted to his honor again! . . . old fox! . . . poor Gordon ! . . .

But Nina suspects now that you — ?

PEOFESSOE LEEDS

[i Startled]

Yes. That’s exactly it. She knows in some queer way. And she acts toward me exactly as if she thought I had deliber¬ ately destroyed her happiness, that I had hoped for Gordon’s death and been secretly overjoyed when the news came!

[ His voice is shaking with emotion ]

And there you have it, Charlie — the whole absurd mess !

[ Thinking with a strident accusation ]

And it’s true, you contemptible . . . !

[Then miserably defending himself]

No! ... I acted unselfishly . . . for her sake! . . .

[ Wonderingly ]

You don’t mean to tell me she has accused you of all this?

Only by hints — looks — innuendos. She real grounds, but in the present state of and the unreal become confused —

MARSDEN [ Thinking cynically\

As always in all minds ... or how could men live? . . .

[ Soothingly ]

That’s just what you ought to bear in your mind — the state of hers — and not get so worked up over what I should say is a combination of imagination on both your parts.

[He gets to his feet as he hears voices from the right ] Buck up! This must be Nina coming.

[The Professor gets to his feet , hastily composing his features into his bland, cultured expression ]

[Thinking self -mockingly but a bit worried about himself ] My heart pounding! . . . seeing Nina again! . . . how sentimental . . . how she’d laugh if she knew! . . . and quite rightly . . . absurd for me to react as if I loved . . . that way . . . her dear old Charlie . , , ha! . . . [He smiles with bitter self -mockery ]

PROFESSOR LEEDS [Thinking worriedly ]

I hope she won’t make a scene . . . she’s seemed on the

Oh, no, Charlie ! knows she has no her mind the real verge all day . , . . thank God, Charlie’s like one of the

f'

family . . . but what a life for me ! . . . with the open¬ ing of the new term only a few weeks off ! ... I can’t do it ... I’ll have to call in a nerve specialist . . . but the last one did her no good . . . his outrageous fee . . . he can take it to court ... I absolutely refuse . . . but if he should bring suit? . . . what a scandal . . . no, I’ll have to pay . . . somehow . . . borrow ... he has me in a corner, the robber ! . . .

NINA

[Enters and stands just inside the doorway looking di¬ rectly at her father with defiant eyes, her face set in an expression of stubborn resolve. She is twenty, tall with broad square shoulders, slim strong hips and long beauti¬ fully developed legs — a fine athletic girl of the swimmer, tennis player, golfer type. Her straw-blond hair, fram¬ ing her sunburned face, is bobbed. Her face is striking, handsome rather than pretty, the bone structure promi¬ nent, the forehead high, the lips of her rather large mouth clearly modelled above the firm jaw. Her eyes are beau¬ tiful and bewildering, extraordinarily large and a deep greenish blue. Since Gordon’s death they have a quality of continually shuddering before some terrible enigma, of being wounded to their depths and made defiant and re¬ sentful by their pain. Her whole manner, the charged atmosphere she gives off, is totally at variance with her healthy outdoor physique. It is strained, nerve-racked, hectic, a terrible tension of will alone maintaining selfpossession. She is dressed in smart sport clothes. Too preoccupied with |ter resolve to remember or see Marsden, she speaks directly to her father in a voice tensely cold and calm ]

I have made up my mind, Father.

PROFESSOR EEEDS [ Thinking distractedly ]

What does she mean? . . . oh, God help me! . . . [ Flustered — hastily ]

Don’t you see Charlie, Nina?

[ Troubled — thinking ]

She has changed . . . what has happened? . . .

[He comes forward toward her — a bit embarrassed but affectionately using his pet name for her~\

Hello, Nina Cara Nina! Are you trying to cut me dead,

young lady?

NINA

[ Turning her eyes to Marsden, holding out her hand for him to shake, in her cool, preoccupied voice ]

Hello, Charlie.

[ Her eyes immediately return to her father ]

Listen, Father!

[ Standing near her, concealing his chagrin ]

That hurts! ... I mean nothing! . . . but she’s a sick girl ... I must make allowance . . .

PROFESSOR DEEDS

[ Thinking distractedly ]

That look in her eyes ! . . . hate ! . . .

[With a silly giggle ]

Really, Nina, you’re absolutely rude! What has Charlie done?

f‘ NINA

[In her cool tone ]

Why^ nothing. Nothing at all.

[ She goes to him with a detached , friendly manner~\

Did I seem rude, Charlie ? I didn’t mean to be.

[ She kisses him with a cool, friendly smile~\

Welcome home.

[ Thinking wearily ]

What has Charlie done? . . . nothing . . . and never will . . . Charlie sits beside the fierce river, immaculately timid, cool and clothed, watching the burning, frozen naked swimmers drown at last. . . .

[Thinking torturedly ]

Cold lips . . . the kiss of contempt! . . . for dear old Charlie ! . . .

[Forcing a good-natured laugh ]

Rude? Not a bit!

[Banteringly\

As I’ve often reminded you, what can I expect when the first word you ever spoke in this world was an insult to me. “Dog” you said, looking right at me — at the age of one !

[He laughs. The Professor laughs nervously. Nina smiles perfunctorily ]

NINA

[Thinking wearily~\

The fathers laugh- at little daughter Nina ... I must get away ! . . . nice Charlie doggy . . . faithful . . . fetch and carry . . . bark softly in books at the deep night. . . .

What is she thinking? ... I can’t stand living like this ! . . .

[ Giggle gone to a twitching grin~\

You are a cool one, Nina! You’d think you’d just seen Charlie yesterday !

NINA

[ Slowly — coolly and reflectively ]

Well, the war is over. Coming back safe from Europe isn’t such an unusual feat now, is it ?

A taunt ... I didn’t fight . . . physically unfit . . . not like Gordon . . . Gordon in flames . . . how she must resent my living! . . . thinking of me, scrib¬ bling in press bureau . . . louder and louder lies . . . drown the guns and the screams . . . deafen the 'world with lies . . . hired choir of liars ! . . .

[ Forcing a jolcing tone]

Little you know the deadly risks I ran, Nina ! If you’d eaten some of the food they gave me on my renovated trans¬ port, you’d shower me with congratulations !

[ The Professor forces a snicker]

NINA

[ Coolly ]

Well, you’re here, and that’s that.

[ Then suddenly expanding in a sxveet, genuinely affec¬ tionate smile ]

And I am glad, Charlie, always glad you’re here ! Y"ou know that.

f MARSDEN [ Delighted and embarrassed ]

I hope so, Nina !

NINA

[ Turning on her father— determinedly]

I must finish what I started to say, Father. I’ve thought it all out and decided that I simply must get away from here at once — or go crazy ! And I’m going on the nine-forty to¬ night.

[ She turns to Marsden with a quick smile ]

You’ll have to help me pack, Charlie!

[ Thinking with weary relief ]

Now that’s said . . . I’m going . . . never come back . . . oh, how I loathe this room ! . . .

[ Thinking with alarm ]

What’s this? . . . going? . . . going to whom? . . .

PROFESSOR FEEDS [ Thinking — terrified ]

Going? . . . never come back to me? . . . no! . . .

[ Desperately putting on his prim severe manner toward an unruly pupil ]

This is rather a sudden decision, isn’t it? You haven’t men¬ tioned before that you were considering — in fact, you’ve led me to believe that you were quite contented here — that is, of course I mean for the time being, and I really think —

[ Looking at Nina — thinking with alarm ]

Going away to whom? . . .

[ Then watching the Professor with a pitying shudder ] He’s on the wrong tack with his professor’s manner . . . her eyes seeing cruelly through him . . . with what ter¬ rible recognition ! . . . God, never bless me with chil¬ dren ! . . .

HINA

[ Thinking with weary scorn ]

The Professor of Dead Languages is talking again . . . a dead man lectures on the past of living . . . since I was born I have been in his class, loving-attentive, pupil-daughter Nina . . . my ears numb with spiritless messages from the dead . . . dead words droning on . . . listening because he is my cultured father ... a little more inclined to deafness than the rest (let me be just) because he is my father . , . father? . . . what is father? . . .

PROFESSOR LEEDS [ Thinking — terrified]

I must talk her out of it ! . . . find the right words ! . . . oh, I know she won’t hear me ! . . . oh, wife, why did you die, you would have talked to her, she would have listened to you ! . . .

[ Continuing in his professor's superior manner]