LUT'ER. How'll we git there?

DOCTOR. Walk--unless somebody give us a tote.

GIZ. We kin go in my John-boat.

LUT'ER. Who'll row? [_There is fear in his voice._]

GIZ. We'll take turns. [_Lut'er looks with terror upon Giz._]

LUT'ER. How fur is it?

DOCTOR. Three an' a half mile.... Will you go, Lut'er?

LUT'ER [_evidently thinking deeply_]. How fur is it?

GIZ. Three an' a half mile.

DOCTOR. Will yer go, Lut'er?

LUT'ER. Uh-h.

DOCTOR. Huh?

GIZ. He said, uh-huh.

[_Lut'er chews in silence._]

DOCTOR. I thought he said uh-uh.

GIZ. He said uh-huh.

DOCTOR. He didn't say nothin' o' the sort--he said uh-uh.

[_They turn to Lut'er questioningly. He is chewing intensely._]

LUT'ER [_after a pause_]. How fur did yer say it wuz?

DOCTOR. Three an' a half mile.

[_Silence._]

GIZ. We'll each take a oar.

[_Silence. A stentorian voice is heard calling "Stee'vun." The Doctor rises, hastily._]

DOCTOR. What d'yer say, Lut'er?

LUT'ER. It's three an' a half mile ter Lavanny--an' three an' a half mile back.... Pretty fur.

DOCTOR. We kin come back on the current.

LUT'ER. Three an' a half mile air three an' a half mile--current or no current.

[_Again the masterful female voice calls "Stee'vun." There is no mistaking its meaning. The Doctor is torn between home and business. Lut'er takes up his rod, rebaits the hook with the fishing-worm from his pocket and casts his line into the river._]

LUT'ER. I'll think it over ... but I ain't givin' yuh no hope.... Three an' a half mile one way air pretty fur ... but two ways--it's turruble.

DOCTOR. Come on, Giz. We'll talk it over.

[_The Doctor and Giz leave Lut'er to his problem. Lut'er is undecided. He is at a crisis in his life. He spits thoughtfully and looks after the retreating Doctor and Giz._]

LUT'ER. Three an' a half mile.... [_He takes in his line and removes the fishing-worm. He rises and looks again after the Doctor and Giz. He hesitates._] ... two ways.... [_He starts in the opposite direction, as he justifies himself to his inner self._] Rock Springs is fur enough fur me! [_When he disappears the play is over._]

[_Curtain._]

FOR ALL TIME

A PLAY

BY RITA WELLMAN

Copyright, 1918, by Rita Wellman.

All rights reserved.

CHARACTERS

MONSIEUR ROBERT.

NANETTE.

DIANE BERTRAL.

MADAME LE BARGY.

TIME: _France, 1915_.

Dedicated to MAURICE MAETERLINCK,

Whose essay in "The Wrack of the Storm"

inspired this play.

Application for the right of performing FOR ALL TIME must be made to Rita Wellman, 142 East 18th Street, New York.