More Portmanteau Plays Part 50

SUSAN

I'll walk with you part of the way.

MLLE. PERRAULT

Very well. Marchons, marchons....

[_They go out._

NATHANIEL (_holding back a little_)

Good-bye, Mr. Manager.

[_He goes out calling_ "Marthe."

_Jonathan is left alone in his joy_. _As he stands, a strange, aimless, vacuous whistling is heard outside the window an though from one ambling by. Jonathan hears it unconsciously, moves to put his plays away, alternately whistling and singing "All on a summer's day."_

_Presently the whistling of the strange air is heard as though coming from downstairs. It stops and a voice calls out_ "Hi!"

JONATHAN

Who is it?

VOICE

It's me.

JONATHAN

What do you want?

[_By this time the Voice has become a person in the shape of Hank, one of the sc.u.m of creation who asks nothing of life and gives nothing. He was born of woman and he grew into man's form, but one looking at him wonders how he survived dirt and the mere effort of breathing. He is stoutish with no marked coloring unless it be a cross between khaki and field-gray.

Weather and time have conspired to render him inconspicuous. When he speaks his voice is produced with a careful effort to conserve energy. When he walks it seems to be a movement in answer to prayer rather than a physical fact._

HANK

Say--

JONATHAN

How'd you get in here?

HANK

Well, it's this way, you see. The gate was open out there and this looked pretty fine to me so I come in.

JONATHAN

You'd better go away before my uncle sees you.

HANK

Look here, young feller, I ain't goin' a-do no harm.

JONATHAN

Well, he doesn't allow strangers on the place.

HANK

I jus' come in to ask if I could sleep somewhere around here if I worked for my sleep and grub.

JONATHAN

No, he won't let you.

HANK

How do you know he won't?

JONATHAN

'Cause it's a rule.

[_Hank whistles a s.n.a.t.c.h of the strange air and sits down._

HANK

Where's your pa?

JONATHAN

He's dead.

HANK

Long?

JONATHAN

Ten years ago.

HANK

How old are you?

JONATHAN

Fourteen.