The Straw Part 9

EILEEN (_trying to force a smile_). Oh, I'm so glad--for your sake; but--I'm selfish--it'll be so lonely here without you.

MURRAY (_consolingly_). You'll be going away yourself before long.

(Eileen _shakes her head. He goes on without noticing, wrapped in his own success._) Oh, Eileen, you can't imagine all it opens up for me--selling that story. I don't have to go back home to stagnate. I can go straight to New York, and live, and meet real people who are doing things. I can take my time, and try and do the work I hope to.

(_Feelingly._) You don't know how grateful I am to you, Eileen--how you've helped me. Oh, I don't mean just the typing, I mean your encouragement, your faith! I'd never have had guts enough to stick to it myself. The stories would never have been written if it hadn't been for you.

EILEEN (_choking back a sob_). I didn't do--anything.

MURRAY (_staring down at her--with rough kindliness_). Here, here, that'll never do! You're not weeping about it, are you, silly? (_He pats her on the shoulder._) What's the matter, Eileen? You didn't eat a thing this morning. I was watching you. (_With kindly severity._) That's no way to gain weight, you know. You'll have to feed up. Do you hear what your guardian commands, eh?

EILEEN (_with dull hopelessness_). I know I'll lose again. I've been losing steadily the past three weeks.

MURRAY. Here! Don't you dare talk that way! I won't stand for it. Why, you've been picking up wonderfully--until just lately. You've made such a game fight for four months. Even the old Doc has told you how much he admired your pluck, and how much better you were getting. You're not going to quit now, are you?

EILEEN (_despairingly_). Oh, I don't care! I don't care--now.

MURRAY. Now? What do you mean by that? What's happened to make things any different?

EILEEN (_evasively_). Oh--nothing. Don't ask me, Stephen.

MURRAY (_with sudden anger_). I don't have to ask you. I can guess.

Another letter from home--or from that a.s.s, eh?

EILEEN (_shaking her head_). No, it isn't that. (_She looks at him as if imploring him to comprehend._)

MURRAY (_furiously_). Of course, you'd deny it. You always do. But don't you suppose I've got eyes? It's been the same d.a.m.n thing all the time you've been here. After every nagging letter--thank G.o.d they don't write often any more!--you've been all in; and after their Sunday visits--you can thank G.o.d they've been few, too--you're utterly knocked out. It's a shame! The selfish swine!

EILEEN. Stephen!

MURRAY (_relentlessly._) Don't be sentimental, Eileen. You know it's true. From what you've told me of their letters, their visits--from what I've seen and suspected--they've done nothing but worry and torment you and do their best to keep you from getting well.

EILEEN (_faintly_). You're not fair, Stephen.

MURRAY. Rot! When it isn't your father grumbling about expense, it's the kids, or that stupid housekeeper, or that slick Aleck, Nicholls, with his cowardly lies. Which is it this time?

EILEEN (_pitifully_). None of them.

MURRAY (_explosively_). But him, especially--the dirty cad! Oh, I've got a rich notion to pay a call on that gentleman when I leave and tell him what I think of him.

EILEEN (_quickly_). No--you mustn't ever! He's not to blame. If you knew---- (_She stops, lowering her eyes in confusion._)

MURRAY (_roughly_). Knew what? You make me sick, Eileen--always finding excuses for him. I never could understand what a girl like you could see---- But what's the use? I've said all this before. You're wasting yourself on a---- (_Rudely._) Love must be blind. And yet you say you don't love him, really?

EILEEN (_shaking her head--helplessly_). But I do--like Fred. We've been good friends so many years. I don't want to hurt him--his pride----

MURRAY. That's the same as answering no to my question. Then, if you don't love him, why don't you write and tell him to go to--break it off? (Eileen _bows her head, but doesn't reply. Irritated,_ Murray _continues brutally._) Are you afraid it would break his heart? Don't be a fool! The only way you could do that would be to deprive him of his meals.

EILEEN (_springing to her feet--distractedly_). Please stop, Stephen!

You're cruel! And you've been so kind--the only real friend I've had up here. Don't spoil it all now.

MURRAY (_remorsefully_). I'm sorry, Eileen. I was only talking. I won't say another word. (_Irritably._) Still, someone ought to say or do something to put a stop to----

EILEEN (_with a broken laugh_). Never mind. Everything will stop--soon, now!

MURRAY (_suspiciously_). What do you mean?

EILEEN (_with an attempt at a careless tone_). Nothing. If you can't see---- (_She turns to him with sudden intensity._) Oh, Stephen, if you only knew how wrong you are about everything you've said. It's all true; but it isn't that--any of it--any more--that's---- Oh, I can't tell you!

MURRAY (_with great interest_). Please do, Eileen!

EILEEN (_with a helpless laugh_). No.

MURRAY. Please tell me what it is! Let me help you.

EILEEN. No. It wouldn't be any use, Stephen.

MURRAY (_offended_). Why do you say that? Haven't I helped before?

EILEEN. Yes--but this----

MURRAY. Come now! 'Fess up! What is "this"?

EILEEN. No. I couldn't speak of it here, anyway. They'll all be coming out soon.

MURRAY (_insistently_). Then when? Where?

EILEEN. Oh, I don't know--perhaps never, nowhere. I don't know---- Sometime before you leave, maybe.

MURRAY. But I may go to-morrow morning--if I gain weight and Stanton lets me.

EILEEN (_sadly_). Yes, I was forgetting--you were going right away.

(_Dully_). Then nowhere, I suppose--never. (_Glancing towards the dining-room._) They're all getting up. Let's not talk about it any more--now.

MURRAY (_stubbornly_). But you'll tell me later, Eileen? You must.

EILEEN (_vaguely_). Perhaps. It depends----

(_The patients, about forty in number, straggle in from the dining-room by twos and threes, chatting in low tones. The men and women with few exceptions separate into two groups, the women congregating in the left right angle of chairs, the men sitting or standing in the right right angle. In appearance, most of the patients are tanned, healthy, and cheerful-looking. The great majority are under middle age. Their clothes are of the cheap, ready-made variety. They are all distinctly of the wage-earning cla.s.s. They might well be a crowd of cosmopolitan factory workers gathered together after a summer vacation. A hollow-chestedness and a tendency to round shoulders may be detected as a common characteristic. A general air of tension, marked by frequent bursts of laughter in too high a key, seems to pervade the throng._ Murray _and_ Eileen, _as if to avoid contact with the others, come over to the right in front of the dining-room door._)

MURRAY (_in a low voice_). Listen to them laugh. Did you ever notice--perhaps it's my imagination--how forced they act on Sat.u.r.day mornings before they're weighed?

EILEEN (_dully_). No.

MURRAY. Can't you tell me that secret now? No one'll hear.

EILEEN (_vehemently_). No, no, how could I? Don't speak of it!

(_A sudden silence falls on all the groups at once. Their eyes, by a common impulse, turn quickly towards the door to the hall._)

A WOMAN (_nervously--as if this moment's silent pause oppressed her._) Play something, Peters. They ain't coming yet.