Van Zorn : $b A comedy in three acts

WELDON FARNHAM’S _studio in Macdougal Alley, New York. In the rear is a long window, beneath which is a wide cushioned seat, extending from the left wall to a vestibule on the right, from which a door, front, opens into the studio. The door is hidden by a tall screen. Further down on the right is another door, and still further down is an antique cabinet, upon which rests a bust of Shakespeare. To the left of the cabinet, well into the room, is a table, upon which are a few books and, among other objects, an ornamental cigar box of polished mahogany. Half way down the left wall, which is built diagonally into the stage, cutting off about one-third of the rear wall, is an open grate with a mantel. Well to the front, on the left, is an upright wheeling easel, upon which a framed portrait faces the rear. There are several chairs, for the most part plain and small; but one of them, near the table, to the left, is large and comfortable._

_The curtain rises, revealing_ WELDON FARNHAM _and_ OTTO MINK. FARNHAM _is a well-conditioned and well-satisfied man of thirty, or a little more, with a certain complacent hardness about his face, which suggests an aggressiveness that does not really exist. He stands surveying_ OTTO, _a younger man--short, plump, pink and loquacious--who in turn stands surveying the picture on the easel. His hands are in his trousers pockets, and he stands from time to time on the tips of his toes during the process of his scrutiny._

Farnham. [_As if amused_]

Well, Otto, aren’t you going to say something?

Otto. [_Slowly, with a frown_]

So this is Villa Vannevar.[1]

[1] Pronounced Vannee´-vr.

Farnham. Not exactly. It’s a picture of her.

[_Smiling_]

You don’t care for it, I see--Lucas and Petherick think it’s rotten.

Otto. Did Lucas say that?

Farnham. [_Still amused_]

No, but he smoked it. He might as well have said it.

Otto. [_Leaving the picture and lighting a cigarette_]

You can’t always tell what Old Hundred means--when he doesn’t say anything. Or when he does, for that matter.

Farnham. [_Smiling_]

I’m sorry, Otto, that you don’t like the picture.

Otto. [_Showing his teeth_]

There’s genius in it. Is that what you wanted me to say?

Farnham. But a poor likeness--eh?

Otto. Likeness?--Farnham, you make me sick.

[FARNHAM _scowls quickly and laughs_]

I beg your pardon, but you do,--just now, I mean.

[_With a sniff_]

You and your pictures!

Farnham. [_Laughing_]

Are they all so bad as that, Otto?

Otto. [_Irritated_]

I suppose it’s _you_ that I’m talking about, not your pictures.

Farnham. [_With patronage_]

You don’t seem to be improving matters very much. What have _I_ done?

Otto. [_With affectionate disgust_]

You? You haven’t done anything. Destiny, or something or other, has done it for you.

Farnham. [_Laughing_]

But I don’t believe much in destiny. I believe in work.

Otto. You didn’t work very hard to get the best girl in New York.

Farnham. If I didn’t know you, Otto, I might be offended.

[_Laughing_]

What’s the matter with you today, anyhow?

Otto. [_With all sincerity_]

I understand. You think I’m jealous, but I’m not. I’m not such a dam fool.

Farnham. Otto, don’t be so impulsive.

[_He laughs_]

Otto. Impulsive? You don’t know what the word means.

[_With a grimace_]

You might at least look glad, or say something foolish once in a while,--just to let a fellow know that you’re human.

Farnham. [_Seriously_]

I’ll take back a part of what I said, Otto. There may be a large element of destiny in my--we’ll say my very great good fortune.

[_Laughing_]

But I wouldn’t say as much as that to Van Zorn.

Otto. Van Zorn? He’s a fatalist, isn’t he?

Farnham. [_Laughing_]

I don’t know just what he is. He’s the best man living, and he’s my best friend.

Otto. [_Cheerfully_]

And he’s worth about how many millions?

Farnham. [_With animation_]

I don’t know. Twenty or twenty-five. I don’t care much about that part of it.

Otto. You know, Farnham, I believe you when you say that.

[_Moving to the Right_]

If I didn’t, I shouldn’t hang around your place any more. You think you wouldn’t miss me if I didn’t, but you would. I’m a tender shoot, and I’m delicate, and you’ll be dam sorry when I’m dead.

[OTTO _pauses before the bust of Shakespeare, looks at it thoughtfully, places his hat upon it carefully, and surveys the result with satisfaction_. FARNHAM _watches him with patronizing amusement. Presently, when the two men stand looking at each other, the bell rings_]

Farnham. [_Looking at his watch_]

That sounds like Lucas. It can’t be Mrs. Lovett--yet.

Otto. It’s Old Hundred, I’ll bet a sequin. Let him in.

[FARNHAM _admits_ GEORGE LUCAS, _who is a square-jawed and somewhat cadaverous looking man of thirty, with a melancholy and highly intellectual face. His clothes are well kept, but unmistakably the worse for wear, and there is a whimsical weariness in his manner that might be suggestive of latent tragedy. He looks at_ FARNHAM _and_ OTTO _as if he expected them to say something_]

Otto. Good morning, Phœbus-Apollo.

Lucas. [_With a benignant smile_]

Good morning.

[_To_ FARNHAM, _half quizzically_]

Good morning.

[_He looks at the decorated bust of Shakespeare, and then at_ OTTO. _He smiles once more and removes his hat, which_ FARNHAM _takes and tosses on to window seat_]

Otto. Have you come to join the celebration?

Lucas. Celebration of what?

Otto. Oh, I don’t know. You take your choice. You might celebrate the publication of my new book, or you might celebrate the rotation of the planet Neptune--on his axis. Or, you might celebrate the engagement of our friend Farnham to the radiant Miss Villa Vannevar.

[_Motioning towards the picture_]

There she is--or, I should say, a picture of her.

Lucas. [_With gathering surprise and difficulty_]

I have seen the picture, but I had not heard of the engagement.

[_Giving his hand to_ FARNHAM, _but as if with unconscious reluctance_]

Farnham, let me congratulate you.

Farnham. [_Taking his hand_]

Thank you, Lucas.

[_As_ LUCAS _goes towards the picture_]

I fear that some of us get rather more than we deserve in this life.

Lucas. [_Affecting indifference_]

Oh, I don’t know about that.

[_Studying the picture_]

So this is Villa Vannevar.

Otto. [_Promptly, with his hands in his pockets_]

That’s what _I_ said.

Farnham. [_Comfortably_]

Your congratulations are quite enough, Lucas. You needn’t feel obliged to praise the picture.

Lucas. [_Solemnly_]

I wasn’t going to praise the picture.

Otto. [_Standing on his toes and grinning at_ FARNHAM _with satisfaction_]

“Heaven is not reached with a single bound.” You can’t have everything at once, Farnham, even if you are a genius. But you might give Lucas a drink, and you might give me a bottle of cold beer.

Farnham. [_Amused_]

In the morning, Otto? Isn’t this something new?

Otto. [_Nodding at the bust_]

Shakespeare did it, and I wish to do everything that Shakespeare did--so far as in me lies.

Farnham. [_Laughing, as if_ OTTO _were a child_]

Well, all right, if I’ve got it.

[_He goes out at the right_, LUCAS _leaves the picture, frowning to himself, and returns to_ OTTO, _who is standing near the corner of the vestibule_. OTTO _turns_ LUCAS _gently and assists him towards the cabinet, from which_ LUCAS _takes out a bottle of whiskey and a glass, going with them to the table nearby._ FARNHAM _returns with a bottle of beer and a glass_]

Farnham. [_After a look at_ LUCAS]

Here you are, Stratford.

[OTTO _goes to the window seat_]

Don’t you want some water, Lucas?

Lucas. No, thank you. It won’t be necessary.

Farnham. [_With mild insistence_]

Better for the heart.

Otto. [_Prying the cap from the bottle_]

Lucas hasn’t got any heart.

[_He pours out a glass of beer with care_]

Well, Farnham, you man of iron, _morituri salutamus_. I’m a tender shoot, and I shan’t be with you very long. Neither will Lucas, if he doesn’t drink some water one of these days.

[_There is a sinister note in his last words, and it is evidently caught by the other men_]

Lucas. [_With a dry flourish_]

Farnham, you are a man of parts, and once more I congratulate you. I’m a man of parts myself, as a matter of fact, but some of my parts don’t exactly fit, and as a consequence

[_With a hard, insincere laugh_]

as a consequence, I--I rattle. Your health and happiness.

[_He drinks, and shivers a little_]

And now,

[_Exploring the table_]

If you will give me a small cigar

[_He takes a large one from the box_]

I’ll tell you what a great man you are going to be.

[_He puts back the bottle and moves again towards the picture_]

Farnham. [_Who has been watching_ LUCAS _with a patronizing smile_]

And now if you two fellows will kindly make yourselves at home, I’ll be back in a little while. I’m going over to Petherick’s to get some photographs of his comical bust of Poe for Mrs Lovett; and if anyone comes in while I’m gone, I’ll trust you two to be agreeable.

Lucas. [_Nervously_]

But what does this mean, Farnham? If you expected visitors, why didn’t you say so?

Farnham. [_Soothingly_]

They are coming to see the picture in its new frame.

[_Hesitating_]

Of course you remember Mrs. Lovett--and Villa Vannevar?

Lucas. [_In a dry voice_]

Yes, I remember them. Villa Vannevar and I used to be rather good friends.

[_Indifferently_]

But I doubt if Mrs Lovett remembers me.

Farnham. [_At the door_]

She must.

Lucas. [_Sitting down_]

Why do you say that?

Farnham. She must,--for you are not the kind that women forget.

[_He laughs and goes out, and_ LUCAS _follows him with his eyes. He remains for a time as if in retrospection_]

Otto. [_From the window seat, after a pause_]

It seems to me that Farnham might have done a little better than that.

[LUCAS _gives him a quick look_]

But I don’t know,

[_In half soliloquy_]

perhaps he couldn’t, after all.

[OTTO _studies the beer-bottle as if it were a rare vase, and_ LUCAS, _leaning forward on his chair, rubs his fingers together thoughtfully_.]

Otto. Phœbus,

[LUCAS _looks at him_]

wake up.

Lucas. I am awake.

Otto. The devil you are.

[_Getting up and stretching himself_]

Let’s have another look at Farnham’s picture. Petherick thinks it’s rotten.

[_Mercifully_]

But then, Petherick’s a sculptor.

Lucas. [_Drily_]

Can’t sculptors tell when things are rotten?

Otto. [_Briskly_]

Apparently not--if we are to judge them by what they have done for our fair city.

Lucas. [_Rising and smiling_]

You are severe this morning, Otto.

[_In a fatherly way_]

I hope you aren’t going to be severe with _me_.

Otto. [_Looking at him sharply_]

I _was_ going to be--but I won’t now.

[_Frowning before the picture_]

So this is Villa Vannevar.

Lucas. [_Smiling_]

That’s what _I_ said.

Otto. [_Still frowning_]

Mrs. Weldon Farnham.

[_Throwing up his hands_]

Lucas, I can’t make it sound right.

Lucas. [_Drily_]

What’s wrong about the sound of it? Farnham is a good fellow, isn’t he?

Otto. [_With emphasis_]

He’s a fine fellow; and he’s one of his own best friends.

Lucas. [_Smiling grimly_]

Well, that makes for prudence--and for longevity.

Otto. [_Drily_]

Very good indeed. What do you think of this picture, Phœbus, anyhow?

Lucas. It’s a pretty good picture. All things are relative.

Otto. [_Promptly_]

Then you agree with Petherick.

Lucas. Not necessarily.

[_He looks around him uncomfortably_]

But I don’t believe, Otto, that I’ll stay here any longer.

[OTTO _moves toward him_]

You can entertain these women without me.

Otto. [_Backing_ LUCAS _into his chair_]

There! You try that for a while. Farnham said you were to stay here till he came back.

[_He takes another chair and sits facing_ LUCAS]

Phœbus, you may kick me if you like, but I’m sorry for you. I’m dam sorry.

Lucas. [_With a doubtful scowl_]

What do you think you are talking about, Otto?

Otto. [_Plunging_]

Phœbus, I like you. I like you a lot. I’ve liked you for ten years--ever since I met you.

[_Pause_]

So far as I count for anything, I suppose I’m as good a friend as you have in the world.

Lucas. [_Pleased and embarrassed_]

I’m glad to hear you say that, Otto.

Otto. [_With more confidence_]

You’d better wait till I’m done with you.

Lucas. [_Smiling_]

Go on. I’m at your service.

Otto. [_Clasping his knee and becoming very serious_]

Very well. Tell me when to stop.

[_Pause_]

Phœbus, how much does Farnham know about you? Did he know anything about you before he came to New York? Let me see, that was four years ago.

Lucas. [_Surprised_]

Probably not.

Otto. Well, then, did Farnham know Villa Vannevar before he came to New York?

Lucas. [_Surprised_]

Not to my knowledge.

Otto. Am I getting too personal?

Lucas. [_Fighting with his curiosity_]

You haven’t said anything injurious.

Otto. Good. Now does Farnham.... Oh, the devil! I suppose I ought not to ask you this, but I’m going to, all the same. Does Farnham know that Villa Vannevar cared more for you at one time than she cares now for any other man living?

Lucas. [_Rubbing his hands slowly_]

I rather think, Otto, that you may as well stop.

Otto. Are you going to kick me?

Lucas. No. Your motive is good, and I try to judge a fellow by his motive.

[_Taking a cheap watch from his pocket, he looks at it and shakes it at his ear_]

What time is it?

Otto. [_With much vigor_]

Phœbus, you can’t put me off. I’ve got you now, and I’m going to tell you what I think of you.

Lucas. [_Shaking his watch at his ear_]

What do you think of me?

Otto. [_Nettled_]

Well, I think you are going to the devil, for one thing.

Lucas. [_Grinning_]

Only going? I was told the other day that I had arrived--with banners.

Otto. Did Farnham tell you that?

Lucas. That was Farnham’s hidden meaning.

Otto. [_After a pause_]

Well, Phœbus, I can’t speak for Farnham. But there was a time when the rest of us would have said that you had empires up your sleeve.

[_Impressively_]

Lucas. [_Looking at his sleeve_]

Then they must be there yet. I’ve never shaken them out.

Otto. [_With more fervor_]

They may be there, but all the devils in hell, with microscopes, couldn’t find them there this morning. As you are fond of reading, you may have gathered, from various authorities, that empires don’t run themselves, exactly. When they do, they run down.

Lucas. Like my watch.

[_He shakes it, and returns it to his pocket_]

Otto. [_Getting up with a sigh_]

Phœbus, why don’t you try to find out where you are, and stop pickling your brain with rum, and quit bewildering your inferiors, and go back to school? If you don’t, there will be a funeral one of these days, and you won’t have to walk. And what I say is all as true as God made great whales and little squirrels.

Lucas. [_Rubbing his knees and grinning_]

Good. Say on.

[OTTO _gives a snort of disgust and moves towards the bust of Shakespeare, his hands in his trousers’ pockets and his face puckered with a scowl_]

Lucas. [_Watching_ OTTO _with weary amusement_]

Otto, tell me something more about this much-travelled Odysseus of many devices, whom Farnham calls Van Zorn.

[OTTO _removes his hat from the bust_]

I thought you would do that, Otto.

[OTTO _puts his hat on his head and gives_ LUCAS _a look of discouragement_]

Tell me about Van Zorn, Otto, and take off your hat.

[OTTO _spins his hat at_ LUCAS, _who catches it deftly and throws it over to the window seat_]

I understand that he’s a fatalist--or something or other. Where does he live?

Otto. [_Piqued_]

He doesn’t live anywhere. He doesn’t have to. He’s worth about twenty-five millions.

Lucas. That isn’t very much. Is he in town?

Otto. [_Impatiently_]

Yes, he’s in town.

Lucas. How long is he going to stay?

Otto. [_Wearily_]

How the devil do I know? I suppose he’ll stay as long as he likes the place. That’s what I should do, if I had twenty-five millions.

[_Becoming more rancid_]

And then, if the fancy seized me, I should pack my suitcase and go in for the irrigation of Mesopotamia.

Lucas. [_Still leaning forward and rubbing his hands slowly_]

When is Farnham to be married?

Otto. I don’t know. Didn’t you hear about the engagement?

Lucas. [_Getting up and speaking without apparent interest_]

No.... I don’t hear about things any more.

[_The bell rings and_ LUCAS _turns with a start_]

I wonder who that is.

[_He takes his watch from his pocket nervously and pretends to look at it_]

Otto. [_Smiling as he looks at his own watch_]

If you wish to know what time it is, it’s five minutes to twelve.

[OTTO _opens the door and admits_ MRS. LOVETT _and_ MISS VILLA VANNEVAR. MRS. LOVETT _is a short lady of fifty, with a manner that is slightly affected, but not comically so. She is dressed in black, and in a manner calculated to suggest rather than to express mourning._ VILLA VANNEVAR _is rather tall and very handsome, inclined to be unconventional and at times careless, naturally vivacious, but evidently not satisfied with her existence. She wears a walking suit of bright gray, with a smart hat_]

Otto. [_With familiar mock-ceremony_]

You are to come in--both of you--and you are to make yourselves entirely at home.

[_To Mrs Lovett_]

The genius of the place has gone to get some photographs of your friend Petherick’s bust of Edgar A. Poe, the eminent literary man.

[_Turning to_ LUCAS, _who has found something interesting on the table_]

Both of you remember Mr. Lucas, I suppose.

Villa. [_In a voice of friendly surprise_]

Why it’s George!

[_She goes to him and gives him her hand, which he takes slowly, and holds a little longer than he means to_]

Why, Auntie, it’s George!

[_To_ LUCAS]

You remember my aunt, don’t you, George?

Lucas. I remember Mrs. Lovett very well.

Mrs. Lovett. [_without warmth_]

Of course I remember Mr. Lucas.

[_To_ OTTO]

And now, Otto, you bad child

[_Holding up her finger_]

oh, yes! I have read your wicked books, and I know just how bad you are

[_Laughing_]

--Villa and I are perishing to see the picture in its new frame.

[_To_ VILLA]

Shall we wait for dear Weldon to come back? Artists are so queer, you know, and

[_To_ OTTO, _with a smile_]

So very sensitive.

Otto. [_Beaming_]

Very sensitive indeed. Have you read my last one--_Au Cinquième_? It came out day before yesterday.

Villa. [_Amused_]

I’m sorry, Otto, but we haven’t even seen it.

Otto. [_Briskly_]

In that case,

[_To_ MRS. LOVETT]

you cannot possibly know how bad I am.--As for the frame,

[_Moving towards the picture_]

the frame is a beautiful piece of work. In point of fact, I don’t quite see how you are going to get along without it.

[MRS. LOVETT _follows him and they stand together before the picture_. LUCAS _and_ VILLA _remain near the table, she becoming very serious and he pretending, not very well, to take a humorous view of the situation_]

Mrs. Lovett. [_After a silence_]

Aren’t you coming to see yourself, Villa?

Villa. I’ll watch you and Otto--and talk with George. I know just how the picture looks, and I haven’t seen George for a thousand years.

[MRS. LOVETT _frowns a little and_ OTTO _smiles to himself significantly_]

Mrs. Lovett. [_Looking at the picture_]

Oh--dear!

[_She sighs and looks at_ OTTO, _who stands on his toes for a moment and then shakes his head_]

Villa. [_Turning from_ LUCAS _to_ MRS. LOVETT, _and laughing_]

What’s the matter, Auntie?

Mrs. Lovett. [_With ample resignation_]

I don’t know what to say about it.

[_She looks at_ LUCAS, _who does not see her, and then looks at_ OTTO]

_You_ say something, Otto. I simply don’t know how.

Otto. I would gladly be of assistance, my dear Madam, but I don’t know how to say anything about it either.

[_Looking at_ LUCAS]

But there’s Lucas; he knows how to say something about it.

Mrs. Lovett. [_After a quick frown_]

Tell me the truth, Otto.

[_She sighs again_]

Villa. [_Turning and laughing_]

If you do, Otto, I’ll tell Weldon everything you say.

Otto. [_Looking from_ VILLA _to_ MRS. LOVETT, _with a grimace_]

You seem to know the truth already. If you don’t, I cannot tell a lie.

[_Very distinctly_]

In the last analysis, then, the thing is worse than--than office-hours.

Villa. [_With determination_]

_I’m_ going to say something now. I’m going to ask Otto to turn that picture to the wall until Weldon comes back. I won’t have it abused.

[_To_ LUCAS, _with sorry laugh_]

The only trouble with that picture is that it isn’t _me_.

Lucas. [_Drily_]

Yes, that is one trouble with it.

[VILLA _looks at him strangely, and laughs again as before_. MRS. LOVETT _looks at her with mild disapproval_. OTTO _grins, and begins to sing the swan-song in Lohengrin with subdued satisfaction as he turns the easel. As_ OTTO _comes back to the center of the stage, the bell rings, and all appear to be suddenly disturbed_]

Mrs. Lovett. Now who in the world is that? We don’t want people.

Lucas. You might find out, Otto.

Otto. Aye, aye, sir.

_[Becoming more exuberant, he propels himself towards the door with a series of quasi-nautical hitches, trumpeting with his lips the opening chorus in “Pinafore.”_ LUCAS _watches him with a weary smile_, VILLA VANNEVAR _laughs, and_ MRS. LOVETT _looks bewildered_. OTTO _opens the door and stands back, in whimsical obeisance_]

Otto. You may come in, for I know your name. Your name is Van Zorn, and I’ve seen you before.

[VAN ZORN ENTERS. _He is rather tall, well built, bronzed, and has powerful, penetrating eyes. His manner, though courteous and possibly a bit too dignified, is also a little heavy. He seems to be in constant fear of being taken too seriously; and yet he is a very serious person, inclined to a certain intangible melancholy that is easy to recognize but difficult to describe. His voice is rich, deep, and musical, his laugh is rare but pleasing, but his smile is frequent and engaging. There is at times something childlike in his acceptance of unusual situations and events, and there is something almost unreal in his easy persistence along lines that few men would ever think of pursuing. While he is for the most part self explanatory, there remains a fringe of mystery about him to the end_]

Van Zorn. [_Taking_ OTTO’S _hand and smiling_]

And I should remember _your_ name. Your name is ...

Otto. [_Distinctly_]

Mink.

Van Zorn. [_With another smile_]

Indeed? Then you must have two names.

Otto. [_As the two move into the room_]

I have. The grand total is Otto Mink.

Van Zorn. I remember now that Farnham called you Otto. I am very glad to see you again.

Otto. [_With expansion_]

And now it devolves upon me to present a few of Farnham’s friends. Here, for example, is Mrs. Lovett.

[_She smiles at Otto, and receives Van Zorn with unqualified approval_]

And here is Miss Villa Vannevar. She’s another friend of Farnham’s, and you’ve met her before.

[VILLA _gives_ VAN ZORN _her hand, and he looks at her, in spite of his efforts, as if he were fascinated. The two appear to be very serious, until_ OTTO _presents_ LUCAS, _when she laughs--but with no great amount of spirit_]

And here is Mr. Lucas. Sometimes we call him Phœbus--on account of his sunny disposition.

[VAN ZORN _shakes hands with_ LUCAS _with great cordiality and looks at him as long as he looked at_ VILLA VANNEVAR, _but with an entirely different expression. There is a kindness and a certain satisfaction in his eyes that surprises_ LUCAS _and embarrasses him_]

That object over there is a portrait of Miss Vannevar, but we are not to see it again until Farnham comes back. You won’t like Farnham any better after you see it.

Van Zorn. [_Amused_]

That doesn’t sound altogether complimentary to Farnham.

Otto. [_Cheerfully_]

It isn’t.

Van Zorn. Perhaps I don’t quite understand you.

Otto. You will.

Van Zorn. [_With a look of amused inquiry at_ LUCAS]

You surprise me. I have come to think of Farnham as one of the best of living painters.

Otto. [_With his hands in his trousers’ pockets_]

He is. That’s partly what ails him.

Mrs. Lovett. Why, Otto,--you ridiculous child!

Otto. If you don’t believe me, ask Phœbus--I mean Lucas.

Van Zorn. [_To_ VILLA, _smiling_]

I think I’ll wait and ask Farnham himself.

Villa. [_Laughing_]

He may bite you.

Van Zorn. I know Farnham’s bite. It isn’t very dangerous.

Villa. He thinks it is.

Van Zorn. [_Moving nearer to her, as if drawn_]

How soon do you expect him back?

Villa. [_Suddenly serious_]

At any moment.

[LUCAS _begins a silent investigation of the studio, while_ MRS. LOVETT _and_ OTTO _talk together_, MRS. LOVETT _apparently amused and perhaps a little scandalized by his childlike narrations. She looks frequently and almost eagerly at_ VAN ZORN _and_ VILLA, _who stand near the table. They seem to be laboring under a mysterious constraint, which_ VILLA _tries to put off with an assumed light humor_]

Van Zorn. [_Smiling_]

You talk as if you thought me a doubtful character. I trust that Farnham hasn’t given me one.

Villa. [_Nervously_]

Weldon has praised you so much that we are all a little afraid of you.

Van Zorn. I shall have to stop that.

[_Pause_]

Do you remember the day when you and Mr.--

[_Glancing at_ OTTO]

Mr. Mink--went over my boat with Farnham and me?

Villa. Of course I do. That was the day before you sailed away to the other side of the world.

Van Zorn. [_Earnestly_]

Thank you for remembering that day.

Villa. [_Still nervous_]

I remember the day--and I remember that you frightened me somehow.

[_Laughing_]

You made me think of Captain Kidd and the Flying Dutchman--both together.

Van Zorn. [_Smiling_]

I don’t know about Captain Kidd, but I suppose I _am_ a sort of Dutchman.

Villa. [_With a little shiver_]

Not the Flying Dutchman--I hope?

Van Zorn. [_With a quaint seriousness_]

No--not exactly. As a matter of fact, I have undertaken to be a doctor.

Villa. [_Bewildered_]

Medicine, Philosophy or Divinity?

Van Zorn. [_With a melancholy laugh._]

All three, in a measure--and I shall be my own patient.

[_Quite seriously_]

I must have a place in the scheme of existence, and I have had a presentiment that I am soon to find it.

Villa. [_Drawing back a little and laughing_]

You?... A place in the scheme of existence?... I’m beginning to be positively creepy. I thought you had everything.

Van Zorn. [_Shaking his head_]

Then you are greatly mistaken. I have nothing--yet.

Villa. [_Impulsively_]

What a very unfortunate person! I beg your pardon a thousand times, but you make me laugh.

Van Zorn. You needn’t be apologetic, and you needn’t laugh.

Villa. [_Bewildered_]

What--are you going to do--first?

Van Zorn. [_Smiling faintly_]

I have thought of several plans to make my existence worth while, but I am not yet sure of any of them.

Villa. [_With a sigh and a laugh_]

Well, I don’t know what you expect me to say. You don’t speak a language that a poor girl can understand.

[_She looks over her shoulder and meets the eyes of_ LUCAS, _who by this time has made a circuit of the studio and taken a casual inventory of its contents. She looks at him, smiling, and then at_ VAN ZORN, _who is looking at_ LUCAS _with a slight frown that is both friendly and inquiring_]

Villa. I wonder if George--Mr. Lucas--could be of any service to you. He isn’t a doctor, but he knows almost everything.

Van Zorn. [_Pleasantly, after a slow nod at_ LUCAS]

Does he know himself?

Lucas. [_With a shrug_]

I regret to say that he does.

Van Zorn. [_To_ LUCAS, _distinctly_]

Then Miss Vannevar is right. The man who knows himself does know almost everything.

[_There has been a brief pause in_ OTTO’S _animated conversation with_ MRS. LOVETT, _and now_ OTTO _looks keenly at_ VILLA, VAN ZORN, _and_ LUCAS]

Villa. [_Laughing at_ OTTO]

The man who knows himself must be inspired.

[_To_ VAN ZORN]

Otto couldn’t keep from being inspired if he tried. Otto is a poet.

Otto. [_Grinning_]

Do I look like one?

Villa. You look like a rose of Sharon, Otto.

[_Glancing towards the door_]

I thought I heard something.

Otto. [_Holding up his finger_]

Hist! There it is again!

[_Going to the door mysteriously_]

It’s the Thing itself.

[FARNHAM _is heard in the vestibule, singing carelessly to himself the air of the Conspirators from “La Fille de Madame Angot.”_ OTTO _opens the door with a flourish, and_ FARNHAM _soon enters_]

Otto. You are late, and the show is half over.

[_Putting his hands into his trousers’ pockets_]

The next thing on the programme will be the eminent comedians, Van Zorn and Lucas, in “The Old Oaken Bucket.” Song and dance.

Mrs. Lovett. [_With languid primness_]

Otto, you might take your hat and go home.

Farnham. [_Taking_ MRS. LOVETT’S _hand_]

No, don’t send him home. He can’t help it. The trouble is in his brain.

[HE _shakes hands with_ VILLA _and smiles_]

But _you_

[_Shaking hands with_ VAN ZORN _and looking at him with eager satisfaction_]

--you might have let a fellow know that you were coming.

[_looking around_]

I suppose there is no need of introductions.

Otto. [_Beaming_]

None whatever. We are all happily acquainted.

Farnham. [_After giving_ OTTO _a patronizing scrutiny_]

There are the photographs, Mrs. Lovett, and if you don’t find them sufficiently bad, it won’t be Petherick’s fault. Poor Poe!

[_Nodding to_ VAN ZORN]

_He_ could tell you something about Destiny, if he were alive.

[_He nods at the envelope_]

Mrs. Lovett. [_Looking at one of the photographs_]

Poe was a wonderful creature.

Farnham. There are no records to prove that he ever denied it.

[_To_ VILLA, _with his most confident smile_]

Have you seen the picture, and the frame?

[_He gazes at the easel, frowns for a moment, and then laughs drily_]

Who turned it to the wall? Did you do that, Lucas?

Villa. [_Quickly_]

Otto did it. I told him to.

Farnham. [_Rather drily_]

That was very considerate of you.

[HE _moves the easel back to its former position_]

Well, there it is.

[_Confidently_]

And now you may all do your worst. Otto and Lucas needn’t say anything, for I know what they think already.

Otto. [_Cheerfully_]

You may not. We’ve never told you.

Farnham. [_With a short laugh_]

Well, if you haven’t, you needn’t.

[VAN ZORN _stands before the picture and studies it ominously_]

Farnham. Well, which is it--life, or death?

Van Zorn. [_With annihilating deliberation_]

I should say that it was neither. I am not satisfied with it.

Farnham. [_With a dry laugh_]

Were you ever entirely satisfied with anything?

Van Zorn. [_Gently_]

We are not here on earth to be entirely satisfied, are we?

Farnham. Oh, I don’t know about that.

Van Zorn. I hope most sincerely that you are not satisfied with this picture.

Farnham. I thought it had a kind of merit.

Van Zorn. [_Frowning_]

It has. It’s a work of genius, if you like.

Otto. [_Promptly_]

That’s what _I_ said.

Farnham. [_Patiently_]

I know it Otto--And now I should like to hear what Mrs. Lovett has to say.

Mrs. Lovett. But, dear Weldon, you can’t possibly care what I think--a poor old thing like me.

[_Looking through her glasses_]

Of course you have flattered the poor child almost to death.

Farnham. [_Genially_]

I don’t see how you can say so.

Villa. [_To_ VAN ZORN _and_ LUCAS]

Help! help!

Mrs. Lovett. But you are a wonderful creature, all the same, and I shall have to forgive you. Two very intelligent men

[_Beaming on_ OTTO]

have called you a genius, and surely that should be enough for one morning.

Otto. Three, Mrs. Lovett, Phœbus--I mean George--called him one before you came in.

Mrs. Lovett. [_After a look at_ LUCAS]

I am very glad to hear it.

Otto. [_Briskly_]

I knew you would be.

[_Going to_ LUCAS]

And now, Phœbus--I mean George--it’s time for you and me to go out and have something to eat. I have a premonition that you and I are in a way to become superfluous.

Mrs. Lovett. [_With motherly tolerance_]

Otto, are you going to talk nonsense all the rest of your life?

Otto. [_Spinning his hat on the end of his stick_]

If youth but knew.

Villa. [_With animation_]

Why can’t we all go out and lunch somewhere together? I’ve got some money.

Mrs. Lovett. You forget, my child, that we are to have luncheon with Mrs. Dyce.

Otto. Give my love to Mrs. Dyce, and to the Pomeranian twins. And now Phœbus and I are going over to the Brevoort House and have something with a squeezed lime in it. After that we shall have a morsel of bread, and Phœbus will tell me what he thinks of my new book--_Au Cinquième_, I call it.

[_To_ VILLA]

You haven’t seen it. Are you going to be at home this afternoon?

Villa. [_Laughing_]

Yes, Otto,--to _you_.

Otto. All right. I’ll bring around a copy of _Au Cinquième_. [_cheerfully_] I wrote it with my heart’s blood.

[_To_ LUCAS, _briskly_]

Come along, Phœbus.

Villa. [_Going to_ LUCAS _and holding out her hand_]

Good-bye, George.

Lucas. [_Taking her hand and speaking strangely_]

Good-bye.

Van Zorn. [_Giving_ LUCAS _his hand_]

I am very glad to have met you, Mr. Lucas--very glad indeed.

[HE _speaks with a peculiar earnestness that causes_ MRS. LOVETT _and_ FARNHAM _to look at each other. But_ LUCAS _appears to be abstracted and indifferent_]

Otto. [_At the door, declaiming solemnly_]

“So now for a season we leave you, taking with us our various musical instruments. Presently we shall return, bringing with us nothing but our accordeons.” _Auf wiedersehen._

[OTTO _and_ LUCAS _go out_. MRS. LOVETT _and_ FARNHAM _look after_ OTTO _and laugh_. VAN ZORN _looks at_ VILLA VANNEVAR, _who stands gazing at the floor. Her face is troubled and she bites her under lip as if to keep it under control_]

Mrs. Lovett. [_To_ FARNHAM]

Otto should be ashamed of himself.

Farnham. He will be--sometime.

Mrs. Lovett. He is going to take that poor unfortunate Mr. Lucas over to the Brevoort House and give him liquor.

Farnham. [_With an unfeeling grin_]

I don’t see any way out of it now. As for poor Mr. Lucas, this man

[_Looking at_ VAN ZORN]

will tell you that he is in the hands of Destiny--gin-rickeys and all.

[_With a laugh_]

We can do nothing for him.

Mrs. Lovett. [_Rising with a sigh_]

It may be so, poor fellow. If he were not so thoroughly impossible, he would be rather interesting.

[VILLA _looks at her almost angrily_]

Van Zorn. May I venture to ask, Mrs. Lovett, if you are final in your judgment?

Mrs. Lovett. [_With apologetic vivacity_]

Dear me, no! I don’t judge anything--not even a fly.

Van Zorn. [_Smiling, as if with effort_]

I am very glad, for I have begun to believe that Mr. Lucas and I may be of service to each other.

[VILLA _looks at him eagerly_]

Mrs. Lovett. [_Puzzled and not wholly pleased_]

I don’t understand what you mean, and I’m not going to try.

Van Zorn. I am not always sure that I understand myself.

Villa. [_With a nervous laugh_]

I’m glad to know it, for I’m not either.

[_To_ MRS. LOVETT]

Come along, Auntie, or Mrs. Dyce’s little dogs will eat up all the luncheon.

[_Laughing_]

Pomeranian twins!

[_Giving her hand to_ VAN ZORN]

Good-bye.... I’m glad you aren’t the Flying Dutchman.

Van Zorn. [_Holding her hand_]

Nothing half so distinguished, I assure you.

Villa. [_Not wholly at ease_]

Or so unfortunate.

Van Zorn. [_Letting her hand go, slowly_]

I am not so sure about that.

Villa. Weldon thinks you are the greatest man in the world

[_To_ FARNHAM, _laughing_]

--except himself.

Mrs. Lovett. [_Beaming_]

And the most wonderful creature.

Van Zorn. [_Smiling_]

Weldon has made a mistake.

Villa. You are too modest.

Van Zorn. Do you think so?

Villa. [_With the same constrained laugh_]

Perhaps I don’t know you well enough to say.

Van Zorn. We may come to know each other better in the future.

Villa. I feel sure of that. I should like to know you better.

Van Zorn. [_Smiling_]

You may be disappointed in me.

Villa. [_As before_]

If I am, I’ll tell you so.

Mrs. Lovett. [_Who has been watching the two with bewildered approval_]

She means that she will say, on all occasions, the first thing that comes into her silly little head.--But we must go now. Good-bye.

[THEY _shake hands_. VAN ZORN _and_ VILLA VANNEVAR _look at each other with a smile of half-fascinated intensity. The two women go_]

Farnham. [_Coming from the door and touching_ VAN ZORN _on the shoulder, laughing curiously_]

Well, Childe Harold, for a sedate and rather melancholy Ancient Mariner, you seem to be getting on.

Van Zorn. [_Standing in thought_]

Yes, I am getting on in years.

Farnham. Oh, cheer up. We are only thirty two. “We are children still,” and we “grope in the dark for what the day will bring.”

[_Going to the table and reaching for the cigars_]

That’s what we do: we “grope in the dark for what the day will bring”.... Here--have a cigar.

Van Zorn. [_Absently_]

No, thank you.

Farnham. [_Holding out the box_]

It’s a Pedro.

Van Zorn. No, thank you.

Farnham. [_Coaxingly_]

Colorado.

Van Zorn. Not now.

Farnham. [_Taking a cigar and putting back the box_]

Well, is there anything that your serene excellency _would_ like, that I can give you--this fine October morning? You’ll have a drink, perhaps.

Van Zorn. [_Shaking his head_]

No, Farnham. But I may--I may ask you for your advice.

Farnham. [_Lighting his cigar_]

And you couldn’t possibly do better. What seems to be weighing most heavily on your noble mind?

[_Pointing to a chair_]

Sit down.

[VAN ZORN _takes the large chair mechanically and remains for a time in silence_. FARNHAM _sits expectantly in a small chair not far from the table_]

Van Zorn. [_Slowly_]

Farnham, I wish you would tell me something about this man Lucas.... About his life, and his death, and his possibilities.

Farnham. [_Laughing_]

His death, did you say?

Van Zorn. [_Simply_]

Yes. He seems to have died.

Farnham. [_Carelessly_]

I don’t know but you are right. And if you refer to his possibilities in the way of drink, I can recommend him without qualifications. There is nothing else in town that is quite like him.

Van Zorn. I am not joking, I assure you.

Farnham. Neither am I. Old Hundred is no joke.

Van Zorn. Then you might tell me something about him. Who is he? What is he? And why is he where he is?

Farnham. [_Laughing_]

Where _is_ he?

Van Zorn. He appears just now to be at what we might call the crossways. Whether he takes one way or the other, will depend upon events.

Farnham. [_With a short laugh_]

Why don’t you say Destiny, and be done with it?

Van Zorn. Very well--we’ll call it Destiny. How old is Lucas?

Farnham. About twenty-nine. Abundantly old enough to know better.

Van Zorn. [_With a smile_]

You might say that of _me_. It is possible that Lucas and I may have a great deal in common.

[_He taps the arms of his chair with his fingers and looks into the distance_]

Farnham. [_Laughing impatiently_]

I thought of that when I saw you together.

[_Crossing his legs_]

Well, you ask me to tell you about Lucas, and I find that I haven’t much to tell. I haven’t known him very long, when it comes to that; but from what I have gathered and inferred, it would seem that his father was a good deal of a metropolitan rounder--before the days of the Great White Way. Whether that made any difference or not, I don’t know. All I can say for certain is that Lucas’s father didn’t spend all his evenings holding his little one on his knee, or teaching him the binomial theorem.

[_With a tired sigh_]

Little Georgie was undoubtedly neglected. But what of it?

[_Looking at the bust_]

So was Shakespeare, I fancy.

Van Zorn. [_Frowning_]

And Lucas’s mother?

Farnham. She had the good fortune to die. You needn’t look at me like that, for the old man was a bad egg.

Van Zorn. [_Disappointed_]

Is that the best you can do for me?

Farnham. [_Impatiently_]

What more do you want? It’s for Lucas to do the rest. He has ability enough to fit out a dozen ordinary men, but he can’t use it--or he won’t. He isn’t peculiar to New York. You’ll find him over all the world.

Van Zorn. [_Thoughtfully_]

And Lucas has run down--like a watch.

Farnham. Yes, or rather like the Old Clock on the Stairs. And I’m afraid he’s past winding up.

Van Zorn. [_Tapping with his fingers_]

And what will be the outcome of all this?

Farnham. [_Weary of the subject_]

Oh, I don’t know. I shouldn’t wonder if I were to take up a newspaper some morning and read that one George Lucas had blown the top of his head off in one of our public parks--probably in Washington Square, not far from the statue of Garibaldi. That statue beats anything of Petherick’s.

Van Zorn. [_Slowly_]

I wonder if I have made a mistake. I don’t often make mistakes in my judgment of men.

Farnham. That’s interesting. How about women?

Van Zorn. We are not talking about women--

[_With emphasis_]

at present.

Farnham. [_Laughing_]

All right; excuse me. But what if you _do_ make mistakes? You can charge them all up to Destiny, and go on about your business. The rest of us poor devils, who think we are burdened with free will, have to pay for our mistakes--with complex interest.

Van Zorn. No matter about that. But what if _I_ were to run down--after the manner of Lucas?

Farnham. But Lucas’s case hasn’t anything to do with yours.

Van Zorn. How do you know?

Farnham. You couldn’t let yourself run down.

Van Zorn. How do you know?

Farnham. [_Getting up, with a laugh of protest_]

Because that isn’t the way we do things nowadays--if we have any sense. If you say “How do you know” again, I’ll....

Van Zorn. Farnham, has it occurred to you that Lucas’s problem may not be half so simple as you have made it out to be?

Farnham. You can’t expect me to tell you what I don’t know.

Van Zorn. [_Significantly_]

Or all that you do know--possibly.

[FARNHAM _says nothing, but smokes_]

In the light of what you say, I wonder that you should trouble yourself to have this man Lucas around.

Farnham. More Destiny I suppose. We can’t beat Destiny.

Van Zorn. Certainly not. But Destiny can beat _us_, and it can make us do better than we have done in the past.

Farnham. [_With a sharp look_]

So Lucas is going to have greatness thrust upon him, is he?

[_Laughing_]

“Van Zorn and Lucas, the eminent comedians.”

Van Zorn. [_Laughing a little and looking at the bust_]

I wonder what Shakespeare would do if he were in my place.

Farnham. He might kill Polonius, or he might mix himself a drink. That would depend entirely upon Destiny.

Van Zorn. [_Drily_]

Undoubtedly ... and we might say more about Destiny.... But whether or not we ought to say it....

Farnham. According to your convenient doctrine, I don’t see that there is any “ought” or “ought not” about it--unless you think you ought to congratulate me on my engagement to Villa Vannevar. Do you?

Van Zorn. [_Distinctly, after a pause_]

Most assuredly _not_.

[VAN ZORN _drums with his fingers on the arms of his chair and looks straight before him_. FARNHAM _watches him with a gathering hardness in his look and at length breaks the strained silence with a flat laugh, to which_ VAN ZORN _pays no attention_]

Farnham. [_Uncomfortably_]

Is this a new kind of joke that you have brought with you from India? If it is, I don’t seem to care much for it.

Van Zorn. [_Looking at him_]

I wish, Farnham, that you would wait a little before you talk like that.

Farnham. [_With a short laugh_]

All right--I’ll wait. There’s nothing else for me to do. It’s going to be Destiny anyhow, and I can’t help myself.

Van Zorn. [_After getting up and looking at the picture_]

Farnham, there is something wrong here.

[HE _moves slowly towards him_]

There is something in the air. I can feel it. I have felt it ever since I came in.

Farnham. [_Unpleasantly_]

Shall I open a window and let it out?

Van Zorn. I think it would be quite sufficient if we were to--lift a curtain.

Farnham. [_Drily_]

On your past life?

Van Zorn. On mine--and yours. Past, present, and future.

Farnham. You are sure that you are quite well?

Van Zorn. [_Nods slowly_]

I am sure.

Farnham. [_With mock relief_]

That’s good. Now a man in your condition ought to have a cheerful, not to say optimistic, outlook on life.

[HE _shrugs his shoulders and forces another laugh_]

Van Zorn. [_Distinctly_]

I may not see life as it is, but I see it as I see it. And I am confident that I see one rather important aspect of it as it is going to be if you have your way. I mean, rather, if your vanity and your obstinacy have _their_ way.

Farnham. [_With a sign of resignation_]

Go on.

[_Drily_]

You are the best thing we have had since Samson and the foxes. Well, with my Vanity and your Destiny working together, we ought to arrive somewhere, as I have no doubt we shall.

Van Zorn. And where do you think we shall arrive?

Farnham. If you’ll be good enough to raise that magic curtain of yours, we may find out.

Van Zorn. [_Frowning_]

If I raise it--yes.

Farnham. [_Nervously_]

Then why the devil don’t you?

[_Laughing as before_]

I can stand it--Destiny and all.

[_With assumed lightness_]

I am enjoying what you say, thus far; and I have no doubt

[_Sitting down_]

that I shall be interested in what may follow.

Van Zorn. [_After watching_ FARNHAM]

Then I may as well come to my subject. Do you know that I have been coming to it for a long time--for more than four years, in fact?

Farnham. I don’t know what you are talking about, but go ahead, all the same.

Van Zorn. I will. And I’ll begin by asking you one or two direct questions. If they seem too direct, you must try to pardon me.

[_Pause_]

Farnham, does the approaching unhappiness of three people, who might as well be happy, commend itself to you as an attractive picture, or as a desirable state of affairs? Have you said to yourself that your Vanity and my Destiny, to use your own words, might as easily work together for joy and for good, as for misery and for evil?

Farnham. [_Squirming_]

What name does your doctor give to this?

Van Zorn. Don’t you think we are beyond that now?

Farnham. [_Nervously_]

Beyond recovery? I hope not.

Van Zorn. Haven’t I raised the curtain?

Farnham. [_Getting up_]

You have raised the devil. That’s about what you have done.

[_With another dry laugh_]

What have you been doing since you went away?

Van Zorn. [_Quietly_]

You give me a leverage when you ask that.

Farnham. [_Impulsively_]

Then for God’s sake use it, and send this curtain of yours up a little higher.

[_With irony_]

If I can be of any assistance....

Van Zorn. [_Distinctly_]

Farnham, my career, during the past four years, has consisted for the most part in _seeking_ ... seeking for guidance.

Farnham. [_With another laugh_]

You might have done worse. “He that seeketh”.... You know about that fellow.

Van Zorn. [_Slowly, but with finality_]

“Findeth.”

Farnham. [_With strained humor_]

Good. Are you sure you won’t have a cigar?

Van Zorn. [_Solemnly_]

Do you remember what the text goes on to say of him that knocketh? I wonder what you think would be likely to happen if I were to--knock.

[FARNHAM _moves to the fireplace and stands gazing into the grate_. VAN ZORN _looks at him and waits for him to speak_]

Farnham. [_Slowly and incredulously_]

What are you driving at, anyhow? Are you in love with Villa Vannevar?... You have never told me about this.

Van Zorn. You have not been exactly available.

Farnham. You might have come back before.

Van Zorn. And I might have made a mistake in doing so. I waited for what seemed to be the appointed time, and then I came.

Farnham. And here you are.

[_With more spirit_]

Now I don’t know much about the appointed time, as you call it, but I suppose I do know what you mean by knocking at doors.

[_He looks at the picture and scowls_]

May I ask

[_Unpleasantly_]

how many times you intend to knock? And when you intend to begin?

Van Zorn. [_In a level, musical voice_]

My intention was to knock once, this afternoon, if it could be arranged.

Farnham. [_Incredulously_]

You and your boat must have made a record, if that’s the way you feel.

[_As if led along reluctantly by the humor of the situation_]

Well, I dare say it can be arranged--and I infer that you count on me to do the arranging.

Van Zorn. I shall never knock under other conditions.

Farnham. [_As before_]

And what do you intend to do after you get in? Something in the Lochinvar line? Carry the young lady away on a horse--or in a limousine?

Van Zorn. [_Seriously_]

If I were to be admitted, and if I were to satisfy myself that my convictions are correct, that three people are on their way to unhappiness and disaster.... What should I do then? What ought I to do then?

Farnham. You look at me as if you thought I was afraid of something. I wish you would tell me what _I_ ought to be beginning to think of _you_.

Van Zorn. [_Quietly_]

You should think of me at all times as the best friend you have in the world.

[FARNHAM _lights a match on the box that he has taken from the mantel and watches the flame until it burns down to his fingers. Then he puts his hands into his pockets and looks at_ VAN ZORN _intently_]

Farnham. [_Distinctly_]

How long has this been going on? How long have you been planning to marry Villa Vannevar?

Van Zorn. [_Distinctly_]

I said something about four years. But time, in your sense of the word, doesn’t mean very much to me.

Farnham. [_Almost with a sneer_]

It may come to mean more--eventually.

Van Zorn. [_Nods slowly_]

That remains to be seen.

Farnham. [_As before_]

As you see it?

[VAN ZORN _nods again_]

My fatalistic friend, you may not care much to know what I have been doing during the past four or five years, but what I have been doing during the past four or five minutes may be of interest to you. If so, I have been asking myself why it is, in spite of my agreement, that I have been taking the trouble to listen to you. You must be aware that I would not have listened to the same talk from any other man living.

Van Zorn. [_With a strange innocence_]

What possible fear can you have, if you have no doubts--or misgivings?

Farnham. [_Scowling_]

Fear? Doubts? Misgivings?--what the devil are you driving at now?

Van Zorn. [_As before_]

You might lead me to believe that you think me capable of treachery.

Farnham. Treachery?

[_With a nasal laugh_]

By treachery, I suppose you mean

[_Letting his words out half-angrily, in detached phrases_]

the repeated visitations--of an irresistible personality--on the unschooled emotions--of a young lady who is about to do me the honor of becoming my wife.... Am I about right?

Van Zorn. [_Smiling_]

You speak now as if you thought me capable of almost anything--beginning with murder.

Farnham. [_Trying to laugh_]

No, I don’t think that. For I know now that even you have your limitations.

Van Zorn. [_With tightening lips_]

Yes; and I am limited, for the present, at any rate, to one interview--subject to your consent and arrangement. If by any chance you should choose to change your mind....

Farnham. [_Half-angry_]

What do you mean by that? Why should I change my mind? Just because you have elected to be plain crazy--with your appointed time, and your--your Destiny--do you think I’m going to be such an ass as to take you seriously? I don’t care much for this sort of thing, and I don’t mind telling you so; but if you insist upon making a show of yourself, I don’t know that I am bound by courtesy to interfere, or by law to be responsible--under the circumstances.

Van Zorn. That will be first rate--especially under the circumstances. Now let me be sure that we both understand. If I call to see Miss Vannevar this afternoon at four o’clock, by special appointment,--or, if not then, at the earliest opportunity....

Farnham. [_With an incredulous laugh_]

Oh, you’ll get in. You needn’t worry about that.

[_He smiles to himself and shakes his head, with a long sigh_]

Shall we go out now and have something to eat?

Van Zorn. [_Smiling_]

Don’t you think, Farnham, that we had better give each other a short leave of absence?

Farnham. [_Drily_]

As you say.

[_With a sorry laugh_]

As you see it.

Van Zorn. Will you dine with me this evening?

Farnham. I’m sorry, but I can’t. But I’ll be here at ten, if that will do you any good.

Van Zorn. [_Laughing a little_]

Then I shall see you at ten. And you will telephone me at my hotel--we’ll say at three-thirty?

Farnham. [_With an easy snarl_]

Yes, I’ll telephone.

Van Zorn. The Knickerbocker.

Farnham. [_Wearily_]

I know it.

Van Zorn. Then I’ll say good-bye until--ten.

Farnham. [_More wearily_]

I understood what you said. You said ten.

[_After a pause_ VAN ZORN _goes out_. FARNHAM _returns from the vestibule with his hat and stick. After turning the picture to the wall, he stands for a while near the window seat, shakes his head slowly, puts his hat on slowly, sits down, and smiles incredulously to himself. He draws figures on the floor with his stick as the curtain falls_]

CURTAIN