Chapter I

CRIMINALS

_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_

EMBERS
AND OTHER ONE-ACT PLAYS

TRADITION
AND OTHER ONE-ACT PLAYS

POSSESSION
AND OTHER ONE-ACT PLAYS

NOWADAYS
A THREE-ACT CONTEMPORANEOUS
COMEDY

CRIMINALS

A ONE-ACT PLAY ABOUT MARRIAGE

BY GEORGE MIDDLETON

NEW YORK B. W. HUEBSCH MCMXV

COPYRIGHT BY GEORGE MIDDLETON, 1914, 1915

This play in its printed form is designed for the reading public only. All dramatic rights in it are fully protected by copyright, and no performance--professional or amateur--or public reading may be given without the written permission of the author and the payment of royalty. Communication should be sent to the author, care of the publisher, 225 Fifth avenue, New York City.

INTRODUCTION

Truth to life does not necessarily imply truth in art. Though all human nature is material for the author and there is no immorality in art save insincerity in its treatment, I should be the first to admit the danger of deducing a generality from an isolated instance. Therefore, the fact that this play was founded on an actual occurrence would not alone have prompted my using so intimate a theme of life in the art form. And since the dramatist must inevitably select the high lights so that he may suggest the larger problems radiating beyond the mere episode, the arrangement of events in “Criminals” may seem exceptional. Nevertheless, in spite of the compression, necessitated by the one-act form, the human reactions in this play and its basic situation are by no means so uncommon as one might casually assume.

It would be easy for the incredulous to deny and for the cynical to scoff at its premise of complete virginal ignorance; but that would not erase the records of medical literature. Psychologists and neurologists, who have related divorce to something more than legal causes, have also given abundant testimony to the part which initial sex experience has ultimately played in the wreckage of marriage. And I have myself been greatly surprised at the large number of collateral cases which have been brought to my attention since this was written and produced--cases of women whose experiences have, in essence, been similar to Janet’s, though their reactions have been translated into a less radical course of conduct.

I have not sought to dramatize a particular pathological phenomenon: I have written this play because I believe it intimates the human drama which, with varying degrees of intensity, may lurk in this phase of marriage. The resolution arrived at is not a playwright’s conclusion intended to preach a moral: it is legitimately achieved, I hope, through the shock of juxtaposed characters finding a new point of view under stress of circumstance, tragic to them.

The advantage of play publication, as I have indicated in my other volumes, is that the dramatist has a written record of his endeavor, accessible to those who may be interested in his work where wide production, for obvious reasons, is denied it.

I should be ungrateful did I not here express my appreciation to Miss Aline Barnsdall, for her courage in producing this play, as well as my thanks to the little company who interpreted, with rare tact and delicacy, the very difficult rôles which were intrusted to them.

G. M.

September tenth, 1915.

CRIMINALS

FIRST PERFORMANCE

at the Fine Arts Theatre, Chicago,
February third, 1915,
under the management of
The Players Producing Company.

THE CAST

ALFRED YORK FRED PERMAINE
ANN, _his wife_ FLORENCE LE CLERCQ
JANET, _their daughter_ BERNICE GOLDEN
CARTER MERWIN FRANK STIRLING

SCENE: _The York home: about ten o’clock,
one Spring evening_.

Produced by the Author.

CRIMINALS

_A cozy sitting room on the second floor of a small house is disclosed, as the curtain slowly lifts. It is conventional in furnishing, with a family portrait or two looking down complacently upon the methodically placed chairs, sofa and large mahogany table. The two windows at the right are draped with light curtains which are similar to those neatly hung across the opening in back. This leads to the hall-way and stairs beyond. At the left is a door opening into_ JANET’S _room. Except for the telephone, with a switch attachment, which rests on the table, there is nothing modern in the room; all the details, in fact, indicate the settled nature of the occupants who have apparently lived there for many years. The hall-way is dark, but the room itself is softly lighted by the tall red-shaded lamp which stands back of the sofa. The moonlight, too, faintly trickles in at the windows._

MR. _and_ MRS. YORK _are alone. The door into_ JANET’S _room is open and_ MRS. YORK _is silently gazing at it. She is seated on the sofa and has ceased sewing. He is in a deep chair, by the table, trying to read the evening paper. But he cannot seem to concentrate on it; he looks toward his wife now and then as though both were dwelling on the same thought_.

YORK, _in his late forties, is a rather obvious kindly man with a quiet voice and gentle manner. He wears a frock coat_.

MRS. YORK, _somewhat younger, is also a lovable personality who has expended all her energies within the concentrated limits of her home life. She still wears her formal gray afternoon gown_.

_They are, in fact, a harmoniously happy couple, reticent with regard to their inner feelings, and instinctively submissive to certain conventions which, until now, the easy habit of life has never made them question_.

MRS. YORK

[_With a sigh_]

I can’t help thinking we shan’t see Janet come from that room again.

YORK

No.

MRS. YORK

Now she’s gone we’ll leave everything in there just as it is.

YORK

Yes.

MRS. YORK

[_With contented recollection_]

She was so happy here.

YORK

She had a good mother.

MRS. YORK

[_Lovingly eyeing him_]

And father, Fred.

YORK

I’m just an ordinary sort of person.

MRS. YORK

But she appreciated all that you did for her.

YORK

A father isn’t much guidance to a daughter. It’s the mother who counts there.

MRS. YORK

I did everything I could to bring her up properly. [_Sighing again_] But times have changed since _I_ was a girl. One has to be so careful.

YORK

It’s the mothers who have changed--letting their girls go about just as if they were boys. There wouldn’t be so much trouble, Ann, if all mothers were companionable like you.

MRS. YORK

I was glad I _could_ devote all my time to Janet. I can almost be happy now that I’m alone--thinking of that.

YORK

It was the greatest joy in my life to see you two so inseparable. Why, Janet hardly left your side, did she?

MRS. YORK

No. When I was with her I always felt as though I were walking in a garden of lilies.

YORK

Yes, pure white.

MRS. YORK

I often wondered why she liked white furniture.

YORK

It was like herself somehow, I suppose.

MRS. YORK

[_She goes to him_]

And to-night will be the first time she’s ever been away from me. [_Shuddering_] To-night!

YORK

There, dear, don’t worry.

MRS. YORK

[_With instinctive reserve as she takes his hand_]

You know what I’m thinking?

YORK

Yes.

MRS. YORK

I hate to think of such things.

YORK

[_Trying to be cheerful_]

Then don’t let’s talk of them. Carter is her husband now.

MRS. YORK

I know. It’s strange how girls grow up in a place and then leave when the first man....

YORK

[_With consoling assurance_]

He’s a good chap and early marriages are best.

MRS. YORK

Yes. And she seemed so sure of herself. [_There is a pause as she thoughtfully goes to window and gazes out_] What time is it?

YORK

Just ten.

MRS. YORK

I’m so glad they told us where they were going.

YORK

But didn’t you feel as though it spoiled their little romance for us to know?

MRS. YORK

[_Smiling_]

Nothing could spoil their romance; it was like a story-book. But Janet really wanted us to go down to the boat to-morrow and see her off. [_Wistfully_] It must be nice to have a honeymoon in Italy.

YORK

[_Trying to be cheerful throughout_]

Carter’s got more money than _I_ had when you and I were married.

MRS. YORK

[_Affectionately_]

But they won’t have a happier time over there than we did in Washington, will they? [_After another silence_] I--I thought perhaps she’d ’phone us to let us know she reached the hotel safely.

YORK

[_Playfully_]

_We_ didn’t think of ’phoning.

MRS. YORK

Mother didn’t have a ’phone then. [_In recollection_] But I thought of her. [_They smile; then she puts her arm on his shoulder, as she stands behind his chair_] Oh, Fred, I....

YORK

[_Understandingly_]

You mustn’t feel like this about Janet, dear. Everything will be as it should be--just as it was between us. Carter’s a fine fellow and....

MRS. YORK

She’s only a little girl.

YORK

So were you, Ann, when I took you away from your mother.

MRS. YORK

It’s foolish of me I know, but.... [_As though wishing to change the subject_] The room and hall-way are full of fragrance.

YORK

Suppose we send her wedding flowers to the hospital to-morrow.

MRS. YORK

You are always so thoughtful, Fred. I’ll tell Mary in the morning.

YORK

Shall we go down and look at them again before we go to bed?

MRS. YORK

Yes; I’m tired though. It’s been such a long day. [_She goes to him tenderly and puts her arms on his shoulders as he now stands facing her_] Fred, it takes me back.

YORK

Some twenty years, eh?

MRS. YORK

We only have each other now.

YORK

Yes; the way it was when we started.

MRS. YORK

It was hard for me to see my little girl go. [_She kisses him_] I’ve been so happy here with you and Janet. [_The telephone rings. She goes to it_] I knew she’d ’phone. Let me go, Fred. I want to hear her voice. [_Taking off the receiver eagerly_] Yes, hello! Is that you, Janet? No?... You wish to speak to _Mr._ York? Is that you, Carter? Yes; he’s here. [_She slowly hands the receiver to_ YORK _as she stands half trembling with sudden premonition_] Carter wants to speak to you. [YORK _slowly takes the receiver_] Oh, I’m afraid.

YORK

[_At ’phone_]

Yes, Carter. [_Startled_] What’s that? Coming back _here_? To-night? [_After a pause_] Yes, of course: you’d better come around yourself right away. Wait. The front door will be unlatched. Come right up to the sitting room. [_He hangs up the receiver and looks at_ MRS. YORK, _who is dumbly questioning him_] Janet’s on her way here.

MRS. YORK

Here!

YORK

She left the hotel fifteen minutes ago--alone.

MRS. YORK

[_Terrified_]

Alone?

YORK

She has her own key?

MRS. YORK

Yes. I wanted her always to keep it. But you told Carter to come also?

YORK

Yes. Has Mary gone upstairs yet?

MRS. YORK

No! [_As_ YORK _goes to telephone and switches it_] What are you doing?

YORK

[_Into telephone_]

Is that you, Mary? I’ve just had a ’phone. We are expecting somebody. Put the front door latch back so he can come right up to us. No, I don’t want to keep you up: then go to bed. Understand? Good-night.

[_He hangs up the receiver_. MRS. YORK _has gazed before her during
this, as though bewildered. There is a long pause before either
speaks: then it is in broken tones, full of an implication that is
hardly phrased_]

MRS. YORK

Fred; something terrible’s happened.

YORK

There’s no reason to think that.

MRS. YORK

The tone of his voice.

YORK

Now don’t give way: it’s all right. [_Slowly_] Perhaps....

MRS. YORK

[_Slowly_]

Perhaps what?

YORK

[_Hesitating_]

Well, sometimes....

MRS. YORK

But Carter must have known she....

YORK

[_Half to himself_]

It may be....

MRS. YORK

[_Hysterical_]

Why don’t you say what you think?

YORK

I remember men telling me....

MRS. YORK

Do men ever talk of such things?

YORK

Yes: afterwards. [_He apparently hears the maid going upstairs. He goes back to be sure, then turns to his wife_] Mary has gone up to bed.

MRS. YORK

Do you think Janet will tell us?

YORK

If not, why is she coming back here?

MRS. YORK

Where else could she go?.... Oh, Fred, this is more than I can stand. Suppose--suppose she doesn’t come?

YORK

Nonsense. Shall we go downstairs?

MRS. YORK

No; not where their flowers are. [_She tries to control her growing agitation_] Why doesn’t she come?--She ought to be here by now.--Are you _sure_ Carter said she was coming here?

YORK

Maybe she walked.

MRS. YORK

[_Murmuring_]

Alone in the street this time of night?

YORK

There’s no danger.

[_The curtains are pushed open and_ JANET _enters_. _She goes
hysterically to_ MRS. YORK _and buries her face in her mother’s lap,
sobbing_. YORK _comes over beside them, anxiously_.

JANET YORK, _about nineteen, is the personification of sensitive
delicacy and fragile grace. Her present agitation is such that, when
words fail, she conveys her meaning through groping, broken tones and
suggestion. She is wearing her smart “going away” tailor-made gown
and hat_]

JANET

Mother! Mother!

MRS. YORK

My girl! What is it?

YORK

Wait, Ann.

JANET

Oh, I.... I....

MRS. YORK

Don’t cry so.

YORK

[_Patting her shoulder_]

Janet, dear!

JANET

[_Looking up at him_]

Father!

YORK

Tell us.

JANET

I’ll.... I’ll tell mother.

MRS. YORK

[_Looking at_ YORK]

Leave us together, Fred. Maybe she’ll....

YORK

You’d better tell me, too, in case....

MRS. YORK

Your father’s right, Janet.

JANET

I.... I can’t _tell_ it.

YORK

But your mother’s frightened.

JANET

So ... so ... was I--_frightened_.

YORK

But, dear...?

JANET

It was different from.... I didn’t know.... Why didn’t you tell me?

MRS. YORK

[_Astonished_]

Tell you?

JANET

Yes: what marriage means.... He said _that_ was marriage.

[MR. _and_ MRS. YORK _exchange looks, slowly realizing the situation_]

MRS. YORK

Didn’t your heart tell you?

JANET

[_Phrasing her feeling with great difficulty throughout_]

Not that. How could it? My heart couldn’t know _that_? It stopped. It seemed to snap. It felt ashamed. I’m ashamed now.

MRS. YORK

[_Perplexed_]

But all the time when Carter was with you here, didn’t you--didn’t your heart...?

JANET

I tell you I never knew there were such things in the world. But _you_ knew. You _both_ knew! [_Reproachfully_] You should have told me and then I wouldn’t have.... Oh, why didn’t you tell me?

MRS. YORK

[_Helplessly_]

Fred?

YORK

[_At a loss_]

Don’t--don’t be harsh at your mother, Janet.

JANET

[_Looking up_]

Then why didn’t _you_ tell me?

MRS. YORK

How could your father...?

JANET

[_Interrupting abruptly_]

Why not? He let me marry Carter when I came and asked him. My father let me go away with Carter. And you both knew; Carter said you both knew. And neither of you told me.

[YORK _shakes his head slowly as though overcome by it all; they try,
however, to console_ JANET]

MRS. YORK

Dear, you--you mustn’t feel like this about Carter.

YORK

[_Tenderly_]

No--no.

JANET

I can’t help how I feel.

YORK

But, Janet; he’s your husband.

JANET

Yes. My husband! I know that. But I didn’t know what it meant having a husband. [_Quickly_] Does that give him the right if I...?

YORK

Yes, Janet.

JANET

[_More deeply hurt at the thought_]

Then if neither of you would tell me, why didn’t _he_ tell me before...?

MRS. YORK

[_Shocked_]

Why people don’t talk of such things _before_ they’re married, dear.

JANET

They don’t?

MRS. YORK

How could they be so immodest?

JANET

Immodest? Immodest to _talk_? Yet he could...? Oh...!

YORK

What did you think marriage was, dear?

JANET

[_Simply_]

I--I thought it was just being together, like you and father.

MRS. YORK

[_Involuntarily_]

But your father and I....

JANET

[_Retreating from them in realization and astonishment_]

You and father! Oh!

MRS. YORK

Janet.

YORK

Janet!

JANET

Don’t touch me, father. [_She moves quickly away from him_] I don’t want anybody to put their hands on me again. I--I have to think. I want to _understand_ what you said.--I always knew there was _something_ I didn’t understand.... [_Incredulously_] How could any girl grow up and not...? [_Quickly turning to her mother_] Mother, did you know what--what...? Did you know _this_, when you and Father first...?

MRS. YORK

[_Hardly able to speak_]

No!

JANET

[_Incredulously_]

You didn’t know _either_, when you were married?

MRS. YORK

[_Emphatically_]

A good girl shouldn’t.

JANET

[_Vehemently_]

A good girl! Then I wish I weren’t a good girl!

YORK

Janet!

JANET

[_Persistently_]

Mother. Didn’t you even feel for father as I did to-night when Carter...?

MRS. YORK

[_Horrified throughout_]

No. No. I loved your father.

YORK

And don’t you love Carter?

JANET

[_Incredulously_]

Is that love?

MRS. YORK

It’s part of love.

JANET

[_Introspectively_]

Then--don’t I love Carter?

YORK

[_Trying to quiet her_]

Of course, you do.

JANET

[_Speaking as though overcome with a new revelation_]

I don’t. I don’t. How could I love him if I couldn’t let--? Oh!--If you, mother, loved father and ... and yet _I_ couldn’t....

YORK

Janet, you’re all nerves. Are you different from other girls?

JANET

[_Gazing before her_]

I don’t know. I can’t understand myself--[_Impulsively_] Mother, mother; I hated him!

MRS. YORK

Janet!

JANET

[_Shuddering in recollection_]

Yes--yes. His face changed ... his eyes ... oh!... And then he--he was sorry. There were tears in his eyes. But I was frightened and ... oh, I thought I belonged to myself.

YORK

[_Kindly_]

You belong to Carter, and he’s coming here for you.

JANET

[_Startled_]

Coming here?

MRS. YORK

Yes. He ’phoned.

JANET

I thought I was safe here in my home.

YORK

Your home is with him now. You’re his wife, Janet. And you promised him....

JANET

[_Indignantly_]

How could I promise something I didn’t know about? But you knew what I was promising and you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me! How could you do such a thing? It was a _crime_!

MRS. YORK

[_Deeply wounded_]

A crime?

YORK

Janet, you’re talking to your mother.

JANET

My mother; yes; my dear little mother whom I trusted so.

MRS. YORK

You’re breaking my heart. I did everything in the world for you.

JANET

[_With great reproach_]

Except tell me the one thing I should have known!

MRS. YORK

Janet!

JANET

And now I understand the strange look you gave me, mother, when you said good-by. You knew you should have told me.

[MRS. YORK _lowers her head. The outer door downstairs is heard
opening and then closing_]

YORK

There’s Carter.

JANET

I won’t see him now.

YORK

Now, Janet: don’t be a foolish girl.

JANET

[_With a certain calm_]

I’m going to my own room.

YORK

You must listen to reason.

JANET

I don’t know what you mean by reason.

YORK

[_Taking hold of her arms_]

Janet, was he...?

JANET

Let me go, father.

YORK

[_Forcefully_]

Answer me. Was Carter unkind or bru...?

JANET

How should I know? He tried to kiss me--differently. And he didn’t tell me before.... I won’t see him. I won’t. I won’t.

MRS. YORK

Janet! Janet!

[JANET _goes into her room slamming the door_. MRS. YORK _holds her
hands out after her_. YORK _seems thoroughly aroused to anger_]

MRS. YORK

[_Turning helplessly to her husband_]

You don’t think it was because...?

YORK

[_Determined_]

That’s what I mean to find out. Go to her.

MRS. YORK

And she called me a criminal!

[MRS. YORK _almost timidly goes into the room, closing the door_.
CARTER _is heard coming up the stairs_. YORK _turns and waits with
suppressed excitement_.

_After a moment_ CARTER MERWIN _enters. There is a look of anxiety
upon his strongly modeled face. In appearance he is immediately
ingratiating since his whole manner suggests great sincerity of
character. He is in his early thirties._

_He stands there looking at_ YORK _and throughout the following
seems deeply moved with pity for_ JANET. _They speak with subdued
intensity, never raising their voice for fear the others will hear_]

CARTER

Janet’s here?

YORK

Yes. With her mother.

CARTER

[_Relieved_]

I’m glad. [_He starts towards door_] Poor little girl.

YORK

[_Stopping him_]

Where are you going?

CARTER

To tell her not to worry.

YORK

You can’t see her now.

CARTER

Why do you stop me?

YORK

She’s my daughter and--

CARTER

[_Quietly_]

My wife.

YORK

[_Halted somewhat by his tone_]

What kind of a man are you?

CARTER

What do you mean?

YORK

You know what I mean.

CARTER

I don’t understand.

YORK

She’s come here seeking my protection.

CARTER

Protection? Her greatest protection would have been a little knowledge.

YORK

[_Controlling himself with difficulty_]

We kept for you a girl’s greatest gift to her husband: her innocence.

CARTER

She brought me only ignorance.

YORK

I tell you, you shan’t go to her now.

CARTER

But she must see how I care for her. She mustn’t think I don’t understand. She must let me help her--be kind to her. You don’t think I have come to take her away unwillingly?

YORK

Then why are you here?

CARTER

Because I don’t want her to be afraid.

YORK

Damn you!

CARTER

Mr. York!

YORK

Why did you frighten her?

CARTER

_I_ didn’t frighten her.

YORK

What did?

CARTER

A fact. The commonest fact in life.

YORK

Which a man who knows life should have learned how to tell a....

CARTER

Most men don’t have to tell women. Twice you’ve insinuated....

YORK

She left you; didn’t she?

CARTER

Yes. She said nothing. She cried and she struck me.

YORK

[_Astonished_]

Struck you?

CARTER

Yes.

YORK

[_Coming closer to him_]

Then you _did_ give her cause?

CARTER

I came to her with a man’s love.

YORK

And acted like a--

CARTER

Say it.

YORK

Like a brute!

CARTER

[_He rushes at him, clutching his arms, but trying to control himself_]

Mr. York! I love her. Do you hear? I love her.

YORK

But forgot what kind of a girl she was.

CARTER

[_Hardly believing_]

What are you saying?

YORK

Isn’t it the truth?

CARTER

[_Still holding him and speaking tensely_]

Do you think because the language men have to use is the same to all women, that the feeling back of it can’t be different? Don’t you know I felt differently? I tell you I love her. No, no, it wasn’t as you think. I was kind. I understood she had never ... I understood. But I thought she knew what marriage was; thought she was happy coming to me; thought she was willingly coming to me. But she made me feel as though I weren’t her husband. I was only a thief in her room. Not the man she loved; but a criminal!

YORK

[_Staring at him_]

A criminal! You, _too_!

CARTER

Yes. And don’t _you_ feel like a criminal? Didn’t you give her to me?

YORK

[_With indignant sarcasm_]

I thought I gave her to a man of honor.

CARTER

Yet you never asked me one question. I never thought of it myself till she struck me. Then the crime we had done her stunned me--before I could talk to her. I didn’t blame her. I blamed myself and you: for you gave her to me, as the service says; but you didn’t tell her a single thing about what was to happen. And I took her from your hands--I who had talked of everything our life was to hold together--everything but _that_.

YORK

Carter!

CARTER

We’ve made the fact of marriage seem horrible. Oh, I’m ashamed to my soul of my part in this crime.

YORK

How dare you speak like this!

CARTER

But isn’t it the truth? Did you or I do anything to make her see the beauty of this? Did you or I tell her the simplest fact? Did you or I do anything else to protect her?

YORK

Do you realize--

CARTER

Oh, if you’d seen the look in her eyes--the helpless shocked expression. Instead of the man’s pure love _I_ brought her, she might have had to face anything, anything. Think of it: _anything_! Good God! It’s terrible. She was helpless and she knew nothing--nothing. [_Going to him_] But you and I knew: you knew life, knew men. Yet neither you nor the minister ever asked me one question. You never asked me what was also her right to know before she came to me. You never asked me what my life had been or whether I was _fit_ to be her husband. [YORK _tries to protest_] Oh, you must listen to me; for you stand there judging me and forgetting what you, her father, had done to her. I’m ashamed of myself and so should you be. You asked me about my bank-account but you never asked me about my body.

YORK

[_Fundamentally offended_]

Do you think I would have insulted you with such a question?

CARTER

But you were willing to take a chance on your daughter.

YORK

No man who wasn’t decent would have married a sweet pure girl like Janet.

CARTER

Wouldn’t he? I know hundreds!!

[_As they stand there tense, facing each other, the door opens; they
turn toward it. There is a pause and_ MRS. YORK, _almost a changed
woman, slowly comes into the room_. _She closes the door. No word is
spoken_. CARTER _stands there looking at her in question. Her eyes
are on the ground_. YORK _moves as one dazed to the deep chair and
later sinks into it, staring fixedly before him_]

CARTER

[_Very quietly_]

She knows I am here?

MRS. YORK

Yes.

CARTER

She’ll see me?

MRS. YORK

She sent me away.

CARTER

[_Understanding_]

She wants to be alone.

MRS. YORK

Yes.

CARTER

[_After some hesitation he goes slowly to_ JANET’S _door and knocks,
speaking with ill-controlled emotion_]

Janet! Janet! It’s Carter. I shan’t see you till you wish me. But don’t be afraid, little girl. Don’t be afraid any more. We’ll go away together and everything will be as you wish, everything as you wish--

[_He waits but there is no answer. He sits upon the sofa unable to
speak_]

MRS. YORK

[_She crosses to him, placing her hand on his shoulder_]

Don’t, Carter.

CARTER

[_With deep conviction_]

It can never be the same.

MRS. YORK

In time.

CARTER

No. She’ll never forget the shock--that first shock.

MRS. YORK

Women do.

CARTER

How could they?

MRS. YORK

She loves you. She broke down and cried. She sees now it wasn’t your fault.

CARTER

But it was.

MRS. YORK

[_As she sits down slowly on the sofa beside him_]

I never knew there could be girls like Janet.

CARTER

She must see there are other things in marriage than this. She must. [_He knocks at the door again_] Janet! Janet! Let me be your friend! I’ll protect you. It’s my right now. I love you, little girl. I’ll wait till--[_But there is no answer. He sits down again, murmuring_] It could all have been spared if one of us had had a little courage.

MRS. YORK

[_Staring before her_]

Yes; it takes courage.

CARTER

Why should it?

MRS. YORK

She knows now.

CARTER

And it all could have been so simple.

YORK

[_Still staring guiltily before him_]

Criminals!

[MRS. YORK _looks slowly at him, but_ CARTER’S _eyes lift to the
door, hoping it will open again. There is a long silence. Then the
curtain slowly closes them from view_]

Transcriber’s Note:

- Text that was in italics is enclosed in underscores (_italics_).

- Text that was in small caps is in all caps (SMALL CAPS).

- Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.