Page:Poet Lore, volume 35, 1924.pdf/499
Julia.—And don’t call me the doctor’s lady. Not to my face at least. It’s bad enough when it comes from those outside of the family.
John.—But there was such a trifle lacking of your being a real widow. And what so nearly happened six years ago may now happen any time you say the word. Dr. Crow is willing . . .
Julia.—You mean, might be willing, . . . if it were not for little Jack.
John (Catching Julia’s hands). He would never stand in my way, if . . .
Julia.—Let go!
John.—You’d be mine, Jackie or no . . .
Julia.—For God’s sake, what are you doing!
John.—I could dance for joy only to think of the possibility.
Julia (Calling).—Johnny! Perhaps you may be ashamed of yourself in the presence of your own son, if you are not before old Andrew.
John (To Andrew).—Andrew, run down the lane and see that Johnny does not fall into the stream.
Julia.—No, please. Andrew, stay where you are. I can call Johnny from here.
Andrew.—There is not a spoonful of water in the stream.
John.—I have said! (Andrew bestirs himself and goes out by the wicket).—Julia, dear—I sent Andrew away because I did not want him to hear what I am about to say to you. (Julia rises.)
Julia.—Aren’t you sorry for me a little? I know I have to live on you, but surely I earn my keep. Oh, I earn it! I love the old man, but what I suffer at his hands! I am willing to suffer anything so long as I may be loved and respected here, and I have to be grateful to you for the home you have given me and my boy; but you have almost untaught me how to be grateful. I don’t know what to do . . . tell Ann, or run away. It makes me ill to think of telling her. It is so hideous, so abominable!!
John.—Please listen to me. I am going to promise you something, and I’ll keep my promise. I can’t let you run away, because frankly, this place would be intolerable without you. And I promise I shall not touch you again, not even speak to you alone, until . . .
Julia.—Until?
John.—Until I see that you have changed your mind about me.