FullReads

–Fool! Idiot! Imbecile! ( He is not, so that you could notice it, any of these things. He is a very handsome man of forty. There is the blast of an auto-horn outside. He makes an angry gesture.) Too late! That’s the taxi. ( But he stands uncertainly in the middle of the floor. There is a loud pounding on the knocker.) Yes, yes!

He makes a movement toward the door, when it suddenly opens, and a lovely lady enters. He stares at her in surprise.

JIMMY.
Annabelle!

Annabelle is little. Annabelle’s petulant upturned lips are rosebud red. Annabelle’s round eyes are baby-blue. Annabelle is–young.

ANNABELLE
. Yes! It’s me! ( There is a tiny lisp in Annabelle’s speech.) I got tired of waiting, and the door was unlocked, so I came right in.

JIMMY
. Well!

ANNABELLE.
( hurt )

Aren’t you glad to see me?

JIMMY.
I’m–delighted. But–but–I thought we were to meet at the station.

ANNABELLE.
So we were.

JIMMY.
You haven’t changed your mind?

ANNABELLE.
No. . . .

JIMMY.
Er–good.

ANNABELLE.
But–

JIMMY.
Yes–?

ANNABELLE.
I got to wondering. . . .

( She drifts to the easy chair in front of the fire.)

JIMMY
. Wondering . . . about what?

( He looks at his watch.)

ANNABELLE.
About love. . . .

JIMMY.
Well . . .

( He lights a cigarette )
–it’s a subject that can stand a good deal of wondering about.
I’ve wondered about it myself.

ANNABELLE.
That’s just it–you speak so cynically about it.
I don’t believe you’re in love with me at all!

JIMMY.
Nonsense! Of course I’m in love with you.

ANNABELLE.
( sadly )

No you’re not.

JIMMY.
( angrily )

But I tell you I am!

ANNABELLE.
No. . . .

JIMMY.
Foolish child!

ANNABELLE.
Well, let’s not quarrel about it. We’ll talk about something else.

JIMMY.
( vehemently )

What do you suppose this insanity is if it is not love? What do you imagine leads me to this preposterous escapade, if not that preposterous passion?

ANNABELLE.
That isn’t the way I love you.

JIMMY.
Then why do you come with me?

ANNABELLE.
Perhaps I’m not coming.

JIMMY.
Yes you are. It’s foolish–mad–wicked–but you’re coming. ( She begins to cry softly.) If not–ten minutes away is safety and peace and comfort. Shall I call a taxi for you? ( She shakes her head.) No, I thought not. Oh, it’s love all right. . . . Antony and Cleopatra defying the Mann Act! Romance! Beauty! Adventure! How can you doubt it?

ANNABELLE.
I hate you!

JIMMY.
( cheerfully )

I don’t mind.

( Smiling )
I rather hate you myself. And that’s the final proof that this is love.

ANNABELLE.
( sobbing )

I thought love was something quite–different!

JIMMY.
You thought it was beautiful. It isn’t.
It’s just blithering, blathering folly. We’ll both regret it tomorrow.