Scene: The same as Act One. Living room of the school.
At rise: the room has changed. It is not dirty, but it is dull and dark and uncared for. The windows are tightly shut, the curtains tightly drawn. KAREN is sitting in a large chair, right center, feet flat on floor. MARTHA is lying on the couch, her face buried against the pillows, her back to KAREN. It is a minute or two after the rise of the curtain before either speaks.
MARTHA: It’s cold in here.
KAREN: YeS.
MARTHA: What time is it?
KAREN: I don’t know.
MARTHA: I was hoping it was time for my bath.
KAREN: Take it early today.
MARTHA:[laughs] Oh, I couldn’t do that. I look forward all day to that bath.
It’s my last touch with the full life. It makes me feel important to know that there’s one thing ahead of me, one thing I’ve got to do. You ought to get yourself something like that. I tell you, at five o‘clock every day you comb your hair. How’s that? It’s better for you, take my word. You wake up in the morning and you say to yourself, the day’s not entirely empty, life is rich and full: at five o’clock I’ll comb my hair. [They fall back into silence. A moment later the phone rings. Neither of them pays the slightest attention to it. But the ringing becomes too insistent. KAREN rises, takes the receiver off, goes back to her chair and sits down.] KAREN: It’s raining.
MARTHA: Hungry?
KAREN: No. You?
MARTHA: No, but I’d like to be hungry. Remember how much we used to eat at college?
KAREN: That was ten years ago.
MARTHA: Well, maybe we’ll be hungry in another ten years. It’s cheaper this way.
KAREN: What’s the old thing about time being more nourishing than bread?
MARTHA: Maybe.
KAREN: Joe’s late today. What time is it?
MARTHA: [turns again to lie on her side] We’ve been sitting here for eight days asking each other the time. Haven’t you heard? There isn’t any time anymore.
KAREN: It’s been days since we’ve been out of this house.
MARTHA: Well, we’ll have to get off these chairs sooner or later. In a couple of months they’ll need dusting.
KAREN: What’ll we do when we get off?
MARTHA: God knows.
KAREN: [almost in a whisper] It’s awful.
MARTHA: Let’s not talk about it. [After a moment] What about eggs for dinner?
KAREN: All right.
MARTHA: I’ll make some potatoes with onions, the way you used to like them.
KAREN: It’s a week ago Thursday. It never seemed real until the last day. It seems real enough now, all right. Let’s go out.
MARTHA: [turns over, stares at her] Where to?
KAREN: We’ll take a walk.
MARTHA: Where’ll we walk?
KAREN: Why shouldn’t we take a walk? We won’t see anybody, and suppose we do, what of it? We’ll just—
MARTHA: [slowly gets up] Come on. We’ll go through the park.
KAREN: They might see us. [They stand looking at each other] Let’s not go. [MARTHA goes back, lies down again] We’ll go tomorrow.
MARTHA: [laughs] Stop kidding yourself.
KAREN: But Joe says we’ve got to go out. He says that all the people who don’t think it’s true will begin to wonder if we keep hiding this way. M
ARTHA: If it makes you feel better to think there are such people, go ahead.
KAREN: He says we ought to go into town and go shopping and act as though—
MARTHA: Shopping? That’s a sound idea. There aren’t three stores in Lancet that would sell us anything. Hasn’t he heard about the ladies’ clubs and their meetings and their circulars and their visits and their—
KAREN: [softly] Don’t tell him.
MARTHA: [gently] I won’t. [There are footsteps in the hall and the sound of something being, dragged] There’s our friend. [A GROCERY BOY appears lugging a box. He brings it into the room, stands staring at them, giggles a little. Walks toward KAREN, stops, examines her. She sits tense, looking away from him. Without taking his eyes from KAREN, he speaks.]
GROCERY BOY: I knocked on the kitchen door but nobody answered. MARTHA: You said that yesterday. All right. Thanks. Good-bye.
KAREN: [unable any longer to stand the stare] Make him stop it.
GROCERY BOY: Here are the things. [Giggles, moves toward MARTHA, stands looking at her. Suddenly MARTHA thrusts her hand in the air.]
MARTHA: I’ve got eight fingers, see? I’m a freak.
GROCERY BOY: [giggling] There’s a car comin’ here. [Starts backing out of door, still loosing.] Good-bye. [Exits.]
MARTHA: You still think we should go into town?
KAREN: I don’t know. I don’t know about anything anymore. [after a moment] Martha, Martha, Martha—
MARTHA: [gentry] What is it, Karen?
KAREN: What are we going to do? It’s like that dark hour of the night when half awake you struggle through the black mess you’ve been dreaming. Then, suddenly, you wake up and you see your own bed or your own nightgown and you know you’re back again in a solid world. But now it’s all the nightmare; there is no solid world. Oh, Martha, why did it happen. What happened? What are we doing here like this?
MARTHA: Waiting.
KAREN: For what?
MARTHA: I don’t know.
KAREN: We’ve got to get out of this place. I can’t stand it anymore.
MARTHA: You’ll be getting married soon. Everything will be all right then.
KAREN: [vaguely] Yes.
MARTHA: [looks up at the tore] What is it?
KAREN: Nothing.
MARTHA: There mustn’t be anything wrong between you and Joe. Never.
KAREN: [Without conviction] Nothing’s wrong. [As footsteps are heard in the hall, her face lights up] There’s Joe now. [MRS. MORTAR, small suitcase in hand, stands in the doorway, her face pushed coyly forward.]
MRS. MORTAR: And here I am. Hello, hello.
MARTHA: [she has turned over on her back and is staring at her aunt. She speaks to KAREN The Duchess, isn’t it? Returned at long last. [Too jovially]
Come on in. We’re delighted to see you. Are you tired from your journey? Is there something I can get you?
MRS. MORTAR: [surprised] I’m very glad to see you both, and [looks around] I’m very glad to see the old place again. How is everything?
MARTHA: Everything’s fine. We’re splendid, thank you. You’re just in time for tea.
MRS. MORTAR: You know, I should like some tea, if it isn’t too much trouble.
MARTHA: No trouble at all. Some small sandwiches and a little brandy?
MRS. MORTAR: [puzzled] Why, Martha.
MARTHA: Where the hell have you been?
MRS. MORTAR: Around, around. I had a most interesting time. Things—
MARTHA : Why didn’t you answer my telegrams?
MRS. MORTAR: Things have changed in the theater—drastically changed, I might say.
MARTHA: Why didn’t you answer my telegrams?
MRS. MORTAR: Oh, Martha, there’s your temper again.
MARTHA: Answer me and don’t bother about my temper.
MRS. MORTAR: [nervously] I was moving around a great deal.
[Conversationally] You know, I think it will throw a very revealing light on the state of the new theater when I tell you that the Lyceum in Rochester now has a toilet backstage.
MARTHA: To hell with the toilet in Rochester. Where were you?
MRS. MORTAR: Moving around, I tell you.
KAREN: What difference does it all make now?
MRS. MORTAR: Karen is quite right. Let bygones be bygones. As I was saying, there’s an effete something in the theater now, and that accounts for—
MARTHA : Why did you refuse to come back here and testify for us?
MRS. MORTAR: Why, Martha, I didn’t refuse to come back at all. That’s the wrong way to look at it. I was on a tour; that’s a moral obligation, you know. Now don’t let’s talk about unpleasant things anymore. I’ll go up and unpack a few things; tomorrow’s plenty of time to get my trunk. KAREN: [laughs] Things have changed here, you know.
MARTHA: She doesn’t know. She expected to walk right up to a comfortable fire and sit down and she very carefully waited until the whole thing was over. [Leans forward, speaking to MRS. MORTAR] Listen. Karen Wright and Martha Dobie brought a libel suit against a woman called Tilford because her grandchild had accused them of having what the judge called “sinful sexual knowledge of one another.” [MRS. MORTAR holds up her hand in protest, and MARTHA, laughs] Don’t like that, do you? Well, a great part of the defense’s case was based on remarks made by Lily Mortar, actress in the toilets of Rochester, against her niece, Martha. And a greater part of the defense’s case rested on the telling fact that Mrs. Mortar would not appear in court to deny or explain those remarks. Mrs. Mortar had a moral obligation to the theater. As you probably read in the papers, we lost the case.
MRS. MORTAR: I didn’t think of it that way, Martha. It couldn’t have done any good for all of us to get mixed up in that unpleasant notoriety—[Sees MARTHA’s face. Hastily] But now that you’ve explained it, why, I do see it your way, and I’m sorry I didn’t come back. But now that I am here, I’m going to stand shoulder to shoulder with you. I know what you’ve gone through, but the body and heart do recover, you know. I’ll be here working right along with you and we’ll—
MARTHA: There’s an eight o’clock train. Get on it.
MRS. MORTAR: Martha.
MARTHA: You’ve come back to pick the bones dry. There’s nothing here for you.
MRS. MORTAR: [sniffling a little] How can you talk to me like that?
MARTHA: Because I hate you. I’ve always hated you.
MRS. MORTAR: [gently] God will punish you for that.
MARTHA: He’s been doing all right.
MRS. MORTAR: When you wish to apologize, I will be temporarily in my room. [Starts to exit, almost bumps into CARDIN, steps back with dignity] How do you do?
CARDIN: [laughs] Look who’s here. A little late, aren’t you?
MRS. MORTAR: So it’s you. Now. I call that loyal. A lot of men wouldn’t still be here. They would have felt—
MARTHA: Get out of here.
KAREN: [opening door] I’ll call you when it’s time for your train. [MRS. MORTAR looks at her, exits.]
CARDIN: Now, what do you think brought her back?
KAREN: God knows.
MARTHA: I know. She was broke.
CARDIN: [pats MARTHA on the shoulder] Don’t let her worry you this time, Martha. We’ll give her some money and get rid of her. [Pulls KAREN to him] Been out today, darling?
KAREN: We started to go out.
CARDIN: [shakes his head] Feel all right? [KAREN leans over to kiss hint. Almost imperceptibly he pulls back.]
KAREN: Why did you do that?
MARTHA: Karen.
CARDIN: Do what?
KAREN: Draw back that way.
CARDIN: [laughs, kisses her] If we sit around here much longer, we’ll all be bats. I sold my place today to Foster.
KAREN: You did what?
CARDIN: We’re getting married this week. Then we’re going away—all three of us.
KAREN: You can’t leave here. I won’t have you do this for me. What about the hospital and—
CARDIN: Shut up, darling, it’s all fixed. We’re going to Vienna and we’re going quick. Fischer wrote that I can have my old place back.
KAREN: No! No! I’m not going to let you.
CARDIN: It’s already done. Fischer can’t pay me much, but it’ll be enough for the three of us. Plenty if we live cheap.
MARTHA: I couldn’t go with you, Joe.
CARDIN: Nonsense, Martha, we’re all going. We’re going to have fun again.
KAREN: [slowly] You don’t want to go back to Vienna?
CARDIN: No.
KAREN: Then why?
CARDIN: Look: I don’t want to go to Vienna; I’d rather have stayed here.
But then you don’t want to go to Vienna—you’d rather have stayed here. Well, to hell with that. We can’t stay here, and Vienna offers enough to eat and sleep and drink beer on. Now don’t object any more, please, darling. All right?
KAREN: All right.
MARTHA: I can’t go. It’s better for all of us if I don’t.
CARDIN: [puts his arm around her] Not now. You stay with us now. Later on, if you want it that way. All right?
MARTHA: [smiles] All right.
CARDIN: Swell. I’ll buy you good coffee cakes and take you both to Ischl for a honeymoon.
MARTHA: [picking up grocery box, she starts for donor] A big coffee cake with a lot of raisins. It would be nice to like something again. [Exits.]
CARDIN: [with a slightly forced heartiness] I’ll be going back with a pretty girl who belongs to me. I’ll show you off all over the place—to Dr. Engelhardt, and the nurse at the desk, and to the fat gal in the cake shop, and to Fischer. [Laughs] The last time I saw him was at the railroad station. He took me back of the baggage car. [With an invitation of an accent] “Joseph” he said, “you’ll be a good doctor; I would trust you to cut up my Minna. But you’re not a great doctor, and you never will be. Go back where you were born and take care of your sick. Leave the fancy work to the others.” I came home.
KAREN: You’ll be coming home again someday
CARDIN: Let’s not talk about it. [After a moment] You’ll need some clothes?
KAREN: A few. Oh, your Dr. Fischer was so right. This is where you belong.
CARDIN: I need an overcoat and a suit. You’ll need a lot of things—heavy things. It’s cold there now, much colder than you’d expect—
KAREN: I’ve done this to you. I’ve taken you away from everything you want.
CARDIN: But it’s lovely in the mountains, and that’s where we’ll go for a month.
KAREN: They—they’ve done it. They’ve taken away every chance we had. Everything we wanted, everything we were going to be.
CARDIN: And we’ve got to stop talking like that. [Takes her by the shoulder]
We’ve got a chance. But it’s just one chance, and if we miss it we’re done for. It means that we’ve got to start putting the whole business behind us now. Now, Karen. What you’ve done, you’ve done—and that’s that.
KAREN: What I’ve done?
CARDIN: [impatiently] What’s been done to you.
KAREN. What did you mean? [When there is no answer] What did you mean when you said: “What you’ve done”?
CARDIN: [shouting] Nothing. Nothing. [Then very quietly] Karen, there are a lot of people in this world who’ve had bad trouble in their lives. We’re three of those people. We could sit around the rest of our lives and exist on that trouble, until in the end we had nothing else and we’d want nothing else. That’s something I’m not coming to and I’m not going to let you come to.
KAREN: I know. I’m sorry. [After a moment) Joe, can we have a baby right away?
CARDIN: [vaguely] Yes, I guess so. Although we won’t have much money now.
KAREN: You used to want one right away. You always said that was the way you wanted it. There’s some reason for your changing.
CARDIN: My God, we can’t go on like this. Everything I say to you is made to mean something else. We don’t talk like people anymore. Oh, let’s get out of here as fast as we can.
KAREN: [as though she is finishing the sentence for him] And every word will have a new meaning. You think we’ll be able to run away from that?
Woman, child, love, lawyer—no words that we can use in safety anymore. [laughs] Sick, high-tragic people. That’s what we’ll be.
CARDIN: [gently] No, we won’t, darling. Love is casual—that’s the way it should be. We must find that out all over again. We must learn again to live and love like other people.
KAREN: It won’t work.
CARDIN: What?
KAREN: The two of us together.
CARDIN: [sharply] Stop talking like that.
KAREN: It’s true. [Suddenly] I want you to say it now.
CARDIN: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
KAREN: Yes, you do. We’ve both known for a long time. I knew surely the day we lost the case. I was watching your face in court. It was ashamed—and sad at being ashamed. Say it now, Joe. Ask it now.
CARDIN: I have nothing to ask. Nothing—[Quickly] All right. Is it—was it ever—
KAREN: [puts her hand over his mouth] No. Martha and I have never touched each other. [Pulls his head down on her shoulder] That’s all right, darling. I’m glad you asked. I’m not mad a bit, really.
CARDIN: I’m sorry, Karen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I—
KAREN: I know. You wanted to wait until it was all over, you really never wanted to ask at all. You didn’t know for sure; you thought there might be just a little truth in it all. [With great feeling] You’ve been good to me and loyal. You’re a fine man. [Afraid of tears, she pats him, walks away] Now go and sit down, Joe. I have things to say. They’re all mixed up and I must get them clear.
CARDIN: Don’t let’s talk any more. Let’s forget and go ahead.
KAREN: [puzzled] Go ahead?
CARDIN: Yes, Karen.
KAREN: You believe me, then?
CARDIN: Of course I believe you. I only had to hear you say it.
KAREN: No, no, no. That isn’t the way things work. Maybe you believe me. I’d never know whether you did or not. You’d never know whether you did, either. We couldn’t do it that way. Can’t you see what would happen? We’d be hounded by it all our lives. I’d be frightened, always, and in the end my own fright would make me—would make me hate you. [sees slight movement he makes] Yes, it would; I know it would. I’d hate you for what I thought I’d done to you. And I’d hate myself, too. It would grow and grow until we’d be ruined by it. [Sees him about to speak] Ah, Joe, you’ve seen all that yourself. You knew it first.
CARDIN: [Softly] I didn’t mean it that way; I don’t now.
KAREN: [smiles] You’re still trying to spare me, still trying to tell yourself that we might be all right again. But we won’t be all right. Not ever, ever, ever. I don’t know all the reasons why. Look, I’m standing here. I haven’t changed. [Holds out her hands] My hands look just the same, my face is the same, even my dress is old. We’re in a room we’ve been in so many times before; you’re sitting where you always sit; it’s nearly time for dinner. I’m like everybody else. I can have all the things that everybody has. I can have you and I can go to the market, and we can go to the movies, and people will talk to me and—[Suddenly notices the pain in his face] Oh, I’m sorry. I mustn’t talk like that. That couldn’t be true anymore.
CARDIN: It could be, Karen. We’ll make it be like that.
KAREN: No. That’s only what we’d like to have had. It’s what we can’t have now. Go home, darling.
CARDIN: [with force] Don’t talk like that. No matter what it is, we can’t leave each other. I can’t leave you—
KAREN: Joe, Joe. Let’s do it now and quick; it will be too hard later on.
CARDIN: No, no, no. We love each other. [His voice breaks] I’d give anything not to have asked questions, Karen.
KAREN: It had to be asked sooner or later—and answered. You’re a good man—the best I’ll ever know—and you’ve been better to me than—But it’s no good now, for either of us; you can see that.
CARDIN: It can be. You say I helped you. Help me now; help me to be strong and good enough to—[Goes toward her with his arms out] Karen!
KAREN: [drawing back] No, Joe! [Then, as he stops] Will you do something for me?
CARDIN: No. I won’t—
KAREN: Will you—will you go away for two days—a day—and think this all over by yourself—away from me and love and pity? Will you? And then decide.
CARDIN: [after a long pause] Yes, if you want, but it won’t make any difference. We will—
KAREN: Don’t say anything. Please go now. [She sits down, smiles, closes her eyes. For a moment he stands looking at her, then slowly puts on his hat] And all my heart goes with you.
CARDIN: [at door, leaving] I’ll be coming back. [Exits, slowly, reluctantly, closing door. ]
KAREN: [a moment after he has gone] No, you won’t. Never, darling. [Stays as she is until MARTHA enters right.]
MARTHA: [goes to lamp, lights it] It gets dark so early now. [Sits down, stretches, laughs] Cooking always makes me feel better. Well, I guess we’ll have to give the Duchess some dinner. When the hawks descend, you’ve got to feed ’em. Where’s Joe? [No answer] Where’s Joe?
KAREN: Gone.
MARTHA: A patient? Will he be back in time for dinner?
KAREN: No.
MARTHA: [watching her] We’ll save dinner for him, then. Karen! What’s the matter?
KAREN: He won’t be back anymore.
MARTHA: [slowly and carefully] You mean he won’t be back anymore tonight.
KAREN: He won’t be back at all.
MARTHA: [quickly, walks to KAREN] What happened? [KAREN shakes her heady] What happened, Karen?
KAREN: He thought that we had been lovers.
MARTHA: [tensely] I don’t believe you. [Wearily KAREN turns her head away.]
KAREN: All right.
MARTHA: [automatically] I don’t believe it. He’s never said a word all these months, all during the trial—[Suddenly grabs KAREN by the shoulder, shakes her] Didn’t you tell him? For God’s sake, didn’t you tell him it wasn’t true?
KAREN: Yes.
MARTHA: He didn’t believe you?
KAREN: I guess he believed me.
MARTHA: [angrily] Then what have you done?
KAREN: What had to be done.
MARTHA: It’s all wrong. It’s silly. He’ll be back in a little while and you’ll clear it all up—[Realizes why that can’t be, covers her mouth with her hand] Oh, God, I wanted that for you so much.
KAREN: Don’t. I feel sick to my stomach.
MARTHA: [goes to couch opposite KAREN, puts her head in her arms] What’s happened to us? What’s really happened to us?
KAREN: I don’t know. I want to be sleepy. I want to go to sleep.
MARTHA: Go back to Joe. He’s strong; he’ll understand. It’s too much for you this way.
KAREN: [irritably] Stop talking about it. Let’s pack and get out of here. Let’s take the train in the morning.
MARTHA: The train to where?
KAREN: I don’t know. Someplace; anyplace.
MARTHA: A job? Money?
KAREN: In a big place we could get something to do.
MARTHA: They’d know about us. We’ve been famous.
KAREN: A small town, then.
MARTHA: They’d know more about us.
KAREN: [as a child would say it] Isn’t there anywhere to go?
MARTHA: No. We’re bad people. We’ll sit. We’ll be sitting the rest of our lives wandering what’s happened to us. You think this scene is strange? Well, get used to it; we’ll be here for a long time. [Suddenly pinches KAREN on the arm] Let’s pinch each other sometimes. We can tell whether we’re still living.
KAREN: [shivers, listlessly gets up, starts making a fire in the fireplace] But this isn’t a new sin they tell us we’ve done. Other people aren’t destroyed by it.
MARTHA: They are the people who believe in it, who want it, who’ve chosen it. We aren’t like that. We don’t love each other. [Suddenly stops, crosses to fireplace, stands looking abstractedly at KAREN. Speaks casually] I don’t love you. We’ve been very close to each other, of course. I’ve loved you like a friend the way thousands of women feel about other women.
KAREN: [only half listening] Yes.
MARTHA: Certainly that doesn’t mean anything. There’s nothing wrong about that. It’s perfectly natural that I should be fond of you, that I should—
KAREN: [listlessly] Why are you saying all this to me?
MARTHA: Because I love you.
KAREN: [vaguely] Yes, of course.
MARTHA: I love you that way—maybe the way they said I loved you. I don’t know. [Waits, gets no answer, kneels down next to KAREN] Listen to me!
KAREN: What?
MARTHA: I have loved you the way they said.
KAREN: You’re crazy.
MARTHA: There’s always been something wrong. Always—as long as I can remember. But I never knew it until all this happened.
KAREN: [for the first time looks up] Stop it!
MARTHA: You’re afraid of hearing it; I’m more afraid than you.
KAREN: [puts her hands over her ears] I won’t listen to you.
MARTHA: Take your hands down. [Leans over, pulls KAREN’s hands away] You’ve got to know it. I can’t keep it any longer. I’ve got to tell you how guilty I am.
KAREN: [deliberately] You are guilty of nothing.
MARTHA: I’ve been telling myself that since the night we heard the child say it; I’ve been praying I could convince myself of it. I can’t, I can’t any longer. It’s there. I don’t know how, I don’t know why. But I did love you. I do love you. I resented your marriage; maybe because I wanted you; maybe I wanted you all along; maybe I couldn’t call it by a name; maybe it’s been there ever since I first knew you—
KAREN: [tensely] It’s a lie. You’re telling me a lie. We never thought of each other that way.
MARTHA: [bitterly] No, of course you didn’t. But who says I didn’t? I never felt that way about anybody but you. I’ve never loved a man—[Stops. Softly] I never knew why before. Maybe it’s that.
KAREN: [carefully] You are tired and sick.
MARTHA: [as though she were talking to herself] It’s funny; it’s all mixed up. There’s something in you, and you don’t know it and you don’t do anything about it. Suddenly a child gets bored and lies—and there you are, seeing it for the first time. [Closes her eyes] I don’t know. It all seems to come back to me. In some way I’ve ruined your life. I’ve ruined my own. I didn’t even know. [Smiles] There’s a big difference between us now, Karen. I feel all dirty and—[Puts out her hand, touches KAREN’s head] I can’t stay with you anymore, darling.
KAREN: [in a shaken, uncertain tone] All this isn’t true. You’ve never said it; we’ll forget it by tomorrow—
MARTHA: Tomorrow? Karen, we would have had to invent a new language, as children do, without words like tomorrow.
KAREN: [crying] Go and lie down, Martha. You’ll feel better. [MARTHA looks around the room, slowly, carefully. She is very quiet. Exits right, stands at door for a second looking at KAREN, then slowly shuts the door behind her. KAREN sits alone without moving. There is no sound in the house until, a few minutes after MARTHA’s exit, a shot is heard. The sound of the shot should not be too loud or too strong. For a few seconds after the noise has died out, KAREN does not move. Then, suddenly, she springs from the chair, crosses the room, pulls open door, right. Almost at the same moment footsteps are heard on the staircase.]
MRS. MORTAR: What was that? Where is it? [Enters door center, frightened, aimlessly moving about] Karen! Martha! Where are you? I heard a shot. What was—[Stops as she sees KAREN reappear, right. Walks toward her, still talking. Stops when she sees KAREN’s face] What—what is it? [KAREN moves her hands, shakes her head slightly, passes MRS. MORTAR, and goes toward window. MRS. MORTAR stares at her for a moment, rushes past her through door right. Left alone, KAREN leans against the window. MRS. MORTAR reenters crying. After a minute] What shall we do? What shall we do?
KAREN: [in a toneless voice] Nothing.
MRS. MORTAR: We’ve got to get a doctor—right away. [Goes to phone, nervously, fumblingly starts to dial.]
KAREN: [without turning] There isn’t any use.
MRS. MORTAR: We’ve got to do something. Oh, it’s awful. Poor Martha. I don’t know what we can do—[Puts phone down collapses in chair, sobs quietly] You think she’s dea—
KAREN: Yes.
MRS. MORTAR: Poor, poor Martha. I can’t realize it’s true Oh how could she—she was so—I don’t know what—[Looks up, still crying, surprised] I’m—I’m frightened.
KAREN: Don’t cry.
MRS. MORTAR: I can’t help it. How can I help it? [Gradually the sobs cease and she sits rocking herself] I’ll never forgive myself for the last words I said to her. But I was good to her, Karen, and you know God will excuse me for that once. I always tried to do everything I could. [Suddenly] Suicide’s a sin. [No answer. Timidly] Shouldn’t we call somebody to—
KAREN: In a little while.
MRS. MORTAR: She shouldn’t have done it, she shouldn’t have done it. It was because of all this awful business. She would have got a job and started all over again—she was just worried and sick and—
KAREN: That isn’t the reason she did it.
MRS. MORTAR: What—why—?
KAREN: [wearily] What difference does it make now?
MRS. MORTAR: [reproachfully] You’re not crying.
KAREN: No.
MRS. MORTAR: What will happen to me? I haven’t anything. Poor Martha—
KAREN: She was very good to you; she was good to us all.
MRS. MORTAR: Oh, I know she was, Karen, and I was good to her too. I did everything I could. I—I haven’t any place to go. [After a few seconds of silence] I’m afraid. It seems so queer—in the next room. [Shivers.]
KAREN: Don’t be afraid.
MRS. MORTAR: It’s different for you. You’re young. [The doorbell rings. MRS. MORTAR jumps. KAREN doesn’t move. It rings again.]
MRS. MORTAR: [nervously] Who is it? [The bell rings again] Shall I answer it? [KAREN shrugs] I think we’d better [Exits through center doors. Returns in a minute followed by AGATHA, who stands in the door] It’s a woman. [No answer] It’s a woman to see you, KAREN. [Getting no answer, she turns to AGATHA] You can’t come in now; we’ve had a—we’ve had trouble here.
AGATHA: Miss Karen, I’ve got to speak to you.
KAREN: [turns slowly, mechanically] Agatha.
AGATHA: [goes to KAREN] Please, Miss Karen. We’ve tried so hard to get you. I been phoning here all the time. Trying to get you. Phoning and phoning. Please, please let her come in. Just for a minute. Miss Karen. Please—
MRS. MORTAR: Who wants to come in here?
AGATHA: Mrs. Tilford. [Looks at KAREN] Don’t you feel well? [KAREN shakes her head] You ain’t mad at me?
MRS. MORTAR: That woman can’t come in here. She caused all—
KAREN: I’m not mad at you, Agatha.
AGATHA: Can I—can I get you something?
KAREN: No.
AGATHA: You poor child. You look like you got a pain. [Hesitates, takes KAREN‘s hands] I only came cause she’s so bad off. She’s got to see you, Miss Karen, she’s just got to. She’s been sittin’ outside in the car, hoping you’d come out. She can’t get Dr. Joe. He—he won’t talk to her anymore. I wouldn’t a come—I always been on your side—but she’s sick. If only you could see her, you’d let her come for just a minute.
KAREN: I couldn’t do that, Agatha.
AGATHA: I don’t blame you. But I had to tell you. She’s old. It’s going to kill her.
KAREN: [bitterly] Kill her? Where is Mrs. Tilford?
AGATHA: Outside.
KAREN: All right.
AGATHA: [presses KAREN’s arm] You always been a good girl. [Hurriedly exits.]
MRS. MORTAR: You going to allow that woman to come in here? With Martha lying there? How can you be so feelingless? [She starts to cry] I won’t stay and see it. I won’t have anything to do with it. I’ll never let that woman—[Rushes sobbing from the room.]
[A second after, MRS. TILFORD appears in the doorway. Her face, her walk, her voice have changed.]
MRS. TILFORD: Karen, let me come in. [Without turning, KAREN bows her head. MRS. TILFORD enters stands staring at the floor.]
KAREN: Why have you come here?
MRS. TILFORD: I had to come. [Stretches out her hand to KAREN, who does not turn. She drops her hand] I know now; I know it wasn’t true.
KAREN: What?
MRS. TILFORD: [carefully] I know it wasn’t true, Karen.
KAREN: [stares at her, shudders] You know it wasn’t true? I don’t care what you know. It doesn’t matter anymore. If that’s what you had to say, you’ve said it. Go away.
MRS. TILFORD: [puts her hand to her throat] I’ve got to tell you.
KAREN: I don’t want to hear you.
MRS. TILFORD: Last Tuesday Mrs. Wells found a bracelet in Rosalie’s room.
The bracelet had been hidden for several months. We found out that Rosalie had taken the bracelet from another girl, and that Mary—[Closes her eyes] that Mary knew that and used it to force Rosalie into saying that she had seen you and Miss Dobie together. I—I’ve talked to Mary. I’ve found out. [KAREN suddenly begins to laugh, high and sharp] Don’t do that, Karen. I have only a little more to say. I’ve tried to say it to you for six days. I’ve talked to Judge Potter. He will make all arrangements. There will be a public apology and an explanation. The damage suit will be paid to you in full and—and any more that you will be kind enough to take from me. I—I must see that you won’t suffer anymore.
KAREN: We’re not going to suffer anymore. Martha is dead.
[MRS. TILFORD gasps, shakes her head as though to shake off the truth, and covers her face. KAREN watches her for a minute] So you’ve come here to relieve your conscience? Well, I won’t be your confessor. It’s choking you, is it? [Violently] And you want to stop the choking, don’t you? You’ve done a wrong and you have to right that wrong or you can’t rest your head again. You want to be “just,” don’t you, and you wanted us to help you be just? You’ve come to the wrong place for help. You want to be a “good” woman again, don’t you? [Bitterly] Oh, I know. You told us that night you had to do what you did. Now you “have” to do this. A public apology and money paid, and you can sleep again and eat again. That done and there’ll be peace for you. You’re old, and the old are callous. Ten, fifteen years left for you. But what of me? It’s a whole life for me. A whole God-damned life. [Suddenly quiet, points to door, right] And what of her?
MRS. TILFORD: [she is crying] You are still living.
KAREN: Yes. I guess so.
MRS. TILFORD: [with a tremendous effort to control herself] I didn’t come here to relieve myself. I swear to God I didn’t. I came to try—to try anything. I knew there wasn’t any relief for me, Karen, and that there never would be again. [Tensely] But what I am or why I came doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is you and—You, now.
KAREN: There’s nothing for me.
MRS. TILFORD: Oh, let’s try to make something for you. You’re young and I—I can help you.
KAREN: [smiles] You can help me?
MRS. TILFORD: [with great feeling] Take whatever I can give you. Take it for yourself and use it for yourself. It won’t bring me peace, if that’s what’s worrying you. [Smiles] Those ten or fifteen years you talk about! They will be bad years.
KAREN: I’m tired, Mrs. Tilford. You will have a hard time ahead, won’t you?
MRS. TILFORD: Yes.
KAREN: Mary?
MRS. TILFORD: I don’t know.
KAREN: You can send her away.
MRS. TILFORD: No. I could never do that. Whatever she does, it must be to me and no one else. She’s—she’s—
KAREN: Yes. Your very own, to live with the rest of your life. [For a moment she watches MRS. TILFORD’s face] It’s over for me now, but it will never end for you. She’s harmed us both, but she’s harmed you more, I guess. [Sits down beside MRS. TILFORD] I’m sorry.
MRS. TILFORD: [clings to her] Then you’ll try for yourself.
KAREN: All right.
MRS. TILFORD: You and Joe.
KAREN: No. We’re not together anymore.
MRS. TILFORD: [looks up at her] Did I do that, too?
KAREN: I don’t think anyone did anything, anymore.
MRS. TILFORD: [makes a half-movement to rise] I’ll go to him right away.
KAREN: No, it’s better now the way it is.
MRS. TILFORD: But he must know what I know, Karen. You must go back to him.
KAREN: [smiles] No, not anymore.
MRS. TILFORD: You must, you must—[Sees her face, hesitates] Perhaps later, Karen?
KAREN: Perhaps.
MRS. TILFORD: [after a moment in which they both sit silent] Come away from here now, Karen. [KAREN shakes her head] You can’t stay with—[Moves her hand toward door, right.]
KAREN: When she is buried, then I will go.
MRS. TILFORD: You’ll be all right?
KAREN: I’ll be all right, I suppose. Good-bye, now. [They both rise. MRS. TILFORD speaks, pleadingly.]
MRS. TILFORD: You’ll let me help you? You’ll let me try?
KAREN: Yes, if it will make you feel better.
MRS. TILFORD: [with great feeling] Oh, yes, oh, yes. Karen. [KAREN walks toward the window.]
KAREN: [suddenly] Is it nice out?
MRS. TILFORD: It’s been cold. [KAREN opens the window sightly, sits on the ledge.]
KAREN: It feels very good.
MRS. TILFORD: You’ll write me sometime?
KAREN: If I ever have anything to say. Good-bye, now.
MRS. TILFORD: Good-bye, my dear. [KAREN smiles as MRS. TILFORD exits. She does not turn, but a minute later she raises her hand.]
KAREN: Good-bye.
CURTAIN