Six One-Act Plays Part 19

(_Quinn rises and looks at her, but does not speak._)

MOLLY--Father.

QUINN--(_Slowly._) Two years ago when you married that d.a.m.ned fiddler, I told ye never to come here again.

MOLLY--Father.

QUINN--(_Sternly._) I meant it then, and I mean it now. Get out!

MOLLY--Won't you let me speak to you?

QUINN--There's nothin' you can say to me, I gave you yer choice of us long ago, and ye stuck to him. Stick to him now, I don't want ye.

MRS. QUINN--(_Enters door L with tea things._) Molly, my dear little Molly.

MOLLY--Mother!

MRS. QUINN--(_Ignoring Quinn._) Sit down now, and I'll give ye a dish of tea.

QUINN--She'll not sit down in this house.

MRS. QUINN--(_Easily, tho her heart is beating rapidly._) Will she not?

Here, take off yer hat and coat, and drink this while it's hot. I'll bring another cup for yer father.

(_Exit to kitchen. Molly remains standing, and faces her father. She makes no attempt to remove her wraps._)

MOLLY--Won't you let me come back to you and mother? Won't you forgive me?

QUINN--(_Slowly._) Why are ye so eager to be back?

MOLLY--I need you and mother, now I'm alone.

QUINN--(_Quickly._) Alone? He's left ye, has he?

(_Molly unable to answer for her tears, nods head._)

QUINN--The things I told you about him were true then? He was no fit man to marry a decent girl!

MOLLY--Father, father, don't say that!

(_Mrs. Quinn enters._)

QUINN--(_Working himself into a rage._) The fine gentleman has left Molly. All his grand love makin' to end in two years, tho Gawd knows I didn't expect it to last that long. (_To Molly._) Why hadn't ye sense enough not to be gulled by him? Didn't I tell ye, he was a rogue and a scoundrel? Chucked aside for another woman, I suppose ye were! Left ye, left ye--

MRS. QUINN--Ye blunderin' idiot, last Tuesday the boy died.

QUINN--(_Helplessly._) Died? I--I thought--(_to Molly._) Sit down--drink the tea.... Is--is there an egg for her?

MRS. QUINN--There's no eggs here. The hens went on strike with the trolley men. Let me help you off with yer coat, Molly. What have ye done to yer arm? What's that bandage on yer arm for?

MOLLY--You remember, I told you in my last letter, mother--

QUINN--(_Sourly._) So ye've been writin', hev ye?

MRS. QUINN--D'ye think a mother will let her only child slip easily out of her heart and life?

MOLLY--(_Pleading._) Mother, father!

QUINN--(_With poor grace._) Aw, well, let it go.

MOLLY--(_Sitting at back of table, Quinn and Mrs. Quinn at either side._) When I settled up everything, after--after his death, I planned to go back to my old job. I went to the office and saw Mr. Bowen, and he said the place was still open for me.

MRS. QUINN--(_Admiringly._) I don't wonder he's glad to get ye back.

There ain't many stenographers clever as you are Molly.

QUINN--Be quiet mother, and let the girl talk.

MOLLY--I knew if I could work, and bring good wages into the house, father could afford to stay out on strike until the men had won.

QUINN--Molly!

MOLLY--I _did_ plan for that father, I did plan for that, and now--

MRS. QUINN--Well, go on, go on.

MOLLY--To-night at the Lester Hospital when they fixed my arm, the doctor said I couldn't use it before a month.

MRS. QUINN--What happened to it? How did ye hurt it?

MOLLY--I did the wrong thing, and I guess I deserve what I got, but I was dog tired and the walk here is endless. I took a car at the ferry, everything went all right till we got to Fourth and Marion Streets--

QUINN--(_Startled._) Fourth and Marion!

MOLLY--There was a crowd of strikers there, and one of them threw a brick into the car, and it struck my arm at the elbow. Crushed it pretty badly, I guess.

QUINN--My Gawd!

MOLLY--(_Misunderstanding his emotion._) I'm not going to live on you, father. I know you and mother are hard enough pushed as it is.

MRS. QUINN--What's ours is yours now. Ye'll stay here with us.

QUINN--(_Dazed._) I wonder can I get a job at Newton's? They needed men last week.

MOLLY--Father, he ... left insurance, and we can use that until you start again, or until I'm able to go back to the office.

QUINN--The strike's a mistake, I'm thinkin'. I'll go to the barn to-morrow and take me car out, if the boys kill me for it.

MRS. QUINN--(_Quickly, and unconsciously imitating Mrs. Martin's imitation of the walking delegate._) Ye'll do no such thing. The strike's on till it's settled. Yer fightin' fer a principle, and ye'll not give in till ye win. This is not a war for us only, but for our children. _They'll_ be saved a fight fer their rights if we conquer now.