Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 299

LIZZIE. That's nothing. The point is that he is seeking to make a match with her. He has practically proposed to her.

HINDES [_astonished_]. Practically proposed? To f.a.n.n.y?

LIZZIE. Yes, and when f.a.n.n.y comes back you just see to it that you wish her a right friendly congratulation, and that you make no--[_Stops suddenly._] Hm! I came near saying something silly.--Oh, I'm so happy, and I'd just have the whole world happy with me. Do you hear? You must help her celebrate, do you hear? And now, good night to you, for I must run along to the Ginsbergs'.

[_Turns to the door at the left singing: "Joy, thou G.o.ddess, fair, immortal...."_]

HINDES [_calling after her_]. But--the devil. Miss Ehrlich!

LIZZIE [_at the door_]. I haven't a single moment to spare for the devil.

[_She disappears._]

HINDES [_grunts angrily, throws his crutch to the ground, places his books and his packages on a chair, and mumbles_]. What mockery is this!

[_Takes out a letter from his inside pocket and reads it over several times. Grunts again. Rests his head heavily upon his hands, and looks vacantly forward, as if deeply puzzled._]

f.a.n.n.y [_enters, embarra.s.sed_]. Good evening, Hindes!

HINDES [_mumbles, without changing his position_]. Good evening!

f.a.n.n.y [_looks at him in embarra.s.sment, and begins to busy herself with the cloaks on the forms._]

HINDES [_still in the same position. He taps his foot nervously. He soon ceases this, and speaks without looking at f.a.n.n.y_]. Miss Segal, will you permit me to see Berman's letter?

f.a.n.n.y [_with a nervous laugh_]. That's a bit indiscreet--not at all like a cavalier.

HINDES [_same position and same tone_]. Will you permit me to see Berman's letter?

f.a.n.n.y [_with a laugh of embarra.s.sment, throws him the letter, which she has been holding in her sleeve_]. Read it, if that's how you feel.

HINDES [_bends slowly down, gets the letter, commences to read it, and then to grumble_]. H'm! So! [_He lets the letter fall to his knee, and stares vacantly before him. He shakes his foot nervously and mumbles as if to himself._] To be such an idiot!

f.a.n.n.y [_regards him with astonishment_].

HINDES [_somewhat more softly_]. To be such an idiot!

f.a.n.n.y [_laughing, still embarra.s.sed_]. Who?

HINDES. Not I.

[_Picks up his crutch, the books and the parcels, arises, and gives the letter to f.a.n.n.y._]

f.a.n.n.y [_beseechingly_]. Hindes, don't take it so badly. You make me very sad.

HINDES. I'm going to my room, so you won't see me.

f.a.n.n.y [_as before_]. Don't speak to me like that, Hindes. Be my good friend, as you always were. [_In a lower tone, embarra.s.sed._] And be good to Berman. For you know, between us, between you and me, there could never have been anything more than friends.h.i.+p.

HINDES. There is no need of your telling me that. I know what I know and have no fault to find with you.

f.a.n.n.y. Then why are you so upset, and why do you reproach yourself?

HINDES. Because....

f.a.n.n.y. Because what?

HINDES [_after an inner struggle, stormily_]. Because I am in a rage! To think of a chap writing such a veiled, ambiguous, absolutely botched sentence, and cooking up such a mess!

f.a.n.n.y. What do you mean by all this?

HINDES. You know, Miss Segal, what my feelings are toward you, and you know that I wish you all happiness. I a.s.sure you that I would bury deep within me all my grief and all my longing, and would rejoice with a full heart--if things were as you understood them from Berman's letter.

f.a.n.n.y. As I understood them from Berman's letter?

HINDES. --And what rouses my anger and makes me hesitate is that it should have had to happen to you and that I must be the surgeon to cut the cataract from your eye.

f.a.n.n.y [_astounded_]. Drop your rhetorical figures. End your work. Cut away, since you've begun the cutting.

HINDES [_without looking at her, deeply stirred_]. Berman did not mean you.

f.a.n.n.y. Not me?

HINDES. Not you, but your sister.

f.a.n.n.y [_with an outcry_]. Oh!--

HINDES. He writes me that his first meeting with her was as if the splendor of G.o.d had suddenly shone down upon him,--that gradually he was inflamed by a fiery pa.s.sion, and that he hopes his love is returned, that....

f.a.n.n.y [_falls upon a chair, her face turned toward the table. She breaks into moaning_]. She has taken from me everything!

[_In deepest despair, with cries from her innermost being, she tears at her hair._]

HINDES [_drops his books and packages to the floor. Limps over to f.a.n.n.y, and removes her hands from her head_]. You have good reason to weep, but not to harm yourself.

f.a.n.n.y [_hysterically_]. She has taken from me everything! My ambition to study, my youth, my fondest hopes, and now....

HINDES. And now?--Nothing. As you see, Berman never loved you. If it hadn't been for that unfortunate, ambiguous, absolutely botched, simply idiotic sentence....

f.a.n.n.y [_softly_]. Hindes, I feel that I no longer care to live.

HINDES. Folly!

f.a.n.n.y. I feel as if my heart had been torn in two. My soul is empty, desolate ... as if an abyss had opened before me.... What have I now in life for? I can live no longer!

HINDES. Folly! Nonsense!

f.a.n.n.y. I have already lived my life....