{Margaret}

(_Interrupting bitterly._) I don't think you were considering your daughter at all in the matter. I know your views on woman and woman's place. I have never counted for anything with you.

Neither has mother, nor Connie, when business was uppermost, and business always is uppermost with you. I sometimes wonder if you think a woman has a soul. As for my marriage--you saw that Tom could be useful to you. He had the various distinctive points you have mentioned. Better than that he was pliable, capable of being molded to perform your work, to manipulate machine politics and procure for you the legislation you desired. You did not consider what kind of a husband he would make for your daughter whom you did not know. But you gave your daughter to him--sold her to him--because you needed him--

(_Laughs hysterically._) In your business.

{Starkweather}

(_Angrily._) Margaret! You must not speak that way. (_Relaxing._)

Ah, you do not change. You were always that way, always bent on having your will--

{Margaret}

Would to G.o.d I had been more successful in having it.

{Starkweather}

(_Testily._) This is all beside the question. I sent for you to tell you that this must stop--this a.s.sociation with a man of the type and character of Knox--a dreamer, a charlatan, a scoundrel--

{Margaret}

It is not necessary to abuse him.

{Starkweather}

It must stop--that is all. Do you understand? It must stop.

{Margaret}

(_Quietly._) It has stopped. I doubt that I shall ever see him again. He will never come to my house again, at any rate. Are you satisfied?

{Starkweather}

Perfectly. Of course, you know I have never doubted you--that--that way.

{Margaret}

(_Quietly._) How little you know women. In your comprehension we are automatons, puppets, with no hearts nor heats of desire of our own, with no springs of conduct save those of the immaculate and puritanical sort that New England crystallized a century or so ago.

{Starkweather}

(_Suspiciously._) You mean that you and this man--?

{Margaret}

I mean nothing has pa.s.sed between us. I mean that I am Tom's wife and Tommy's mother. What I did mean, you have no more understood than you understand me--or any woman.

{Starkweather}

(_Relieved._) It is well.

{Margaret}

(_Continuing._) And it is so easy. The concept is simple. A woman is human. That is all. Yet I do believe it is news to you.

(_Enters Dobleman from right carrying a check in his hand.

Starkweather, about to speak, pauses._) (_Dobleman hesitates, and Starkweather nods for him to advance._)

{Dobleman}

(_Greeting Margaret, and addressing Starkweather._) This check. You said you would sign it yourself.

{Starkweather}

Yes, that is Rutland's. (_Looks for pen._)

(_Dobleman offers his fountain pen._) No; my own pen.

(_Unlocks dispatch box, gets pen, and signs check. Leaves dispatch box open._) (_Dobleman takes check and makes exit to right._)

{Starkweather}

(_Picking up doc.u.ments from top of pile in open box._)

This man Knox. I studied him yesterday. A man of great energy and ideals. Unfortunately, he is a sentimentalist. He means right--I grant him that. But he does not understand practical conditions.

He is more dangerous to the welfare of the United States than ten thousand anarchists. And he is not practical. (_Holding up doc.u.ments._)

Behold, stolen from my private files by a yellow journal sneak thief and turned over to him. He thought to b.u.t.tress his speech with them this afternoon. And yet, so hopelessly unpractical is he, that you see they are already back in the rightful owner's hands.

{Margaret}

Then his speech is ruined?

{Starkweather}

Absolutely. The wheels are all ready to turn. The good people of the United States will dismiss him with roars of laughter--a good phrase, that: Hubbard's, I believe.

(_Dropping doc.u.ments on the open cover of dispatch box, picking up the pile of several account books and packets of papers, and rising._) One moment. I must put these away.

(_Starkweather goes to alcove at left rear. He presses a b.u.t.ton and alcove is lighted by electricity, discovering the face of a large safe. During the following scene he does not look around, being occupied with working the combination, opening the safe, putting away account books and packets of papers, and with examining other packets which are in safe._)

(_Margaret looks at doc.u.ments lying on open cover of dispatch box and glancing quickly about room, takes a sudden resolution. She seizes doc.u.ments, makes as if to run wildly from the room, stops abruptly to reconsider, and changes her mind. She looks about room for a hiding place, and her eyes rest on portrait of Lincoln. Moving swiftly, picking up a light chair on the way, she goes to corner of bookcase nearest to portrait, steps on chair, and from chair to ledge of bookcase where, clinging, she reaches out and up and drops doc.u.ments behind portrait. Stepping quickly down, with handkerchief she wipes ledge on which she has stood, also the seat of the chair. She carries chair back to where she found it, and reseats herself in chair by desk._) (_Starkweather locks safe, emerges from alcove, turns off alcove lights, advances to desk chair, and sits down. He is about to close and lock dispatch box when he discovers doc.u.ments are missing. He is very quiet about it, and examines contents of box care-fully._)

{Starkweather}

(_Quietly._) Has anybody been in the room?

{Margaret}