The Naturewoman | Page 6

know. I'd have taken care of her . . . but that
doesn't interest her. And, of course, I can't take the children away from
her, and there's not much fun in the country alone. So what's the use? I
give up . . . as I give up everything. Good-bye, all.
[Exit.]
LETITIA. I declare - such a trial! A husband who's lost his interest in
life!
MRS. MASTERSON. It's that new cook of yours, Letitia.
LETITIA. Every cook is worse.
MRS. MASTERSON. What he needs is some liver-pills. Quincy, you
should attend to it! [Rises.] Well, I'm going upstairs. You'll stay to
dinner, Letitia?
LETITIA. Yes, I want to lie down for a while.
DR. MASTERSON. And I'll beat myself a game of billiards.
[Exit With LETITIA and MRS. MASTERSON.]
ETHEL. [Drops her book to floor, springs up and paces the room.] Oh!
If only I might change places with Oceana! If I could get away to some
South Sea island, and be my own mistress and live my own life. [Takes
photograph.] Oceana! I'm wild to see you! I want to see you dancing.
Your Sunrise Dance . . . and to your own music! [Begins to hum the
Sunrise Dance.] Oceana! Oceana!
[A step in the hall, she turns.]
FREDDY. [Enters briskly; a college boy, about twenty-one, overgrown,
narrow- chested, good-natured and slangy.] Ethel!
ETHEL. [Starts.] Freddy! Where's Oceana?
FREDDY. She won't get here till morning.

ETHEL. Oh, Freddy!
FREDDY. They can't dock the steamer to-night . . . there's some tangle
at the pier.
ETHEL. Did you go and see?
FREDDY. I telephoned about it. I didn't want to wait in this blizzard.
ETHEL. I'm so sorry!
FREDDY. Me, too. But there's no help for it.
ETHEL. So long as she doesn't miss to-morrow night! Did I read you
what she said about that, Freddy? [Takes letter from pocket.] "I'll pray
for fair weather, so that I may get there to see the beautiful dancing.
There is nothing in all the world that I love more . . . my whole being
seems to flow into the dance. I send you the music of my Sunrise
Dance, that father composed for me. You can learn it, and I'll do it for
you. I don't know, of course; but father used to think that I was
wonderful in it . . and he had known all the great dances in Europe. It
was the last thing I heard him play, before he went out in the boat, and I
saw him perish before my eyes." Don't you think that she writes
beautifully, Freddy?
FREDDY. Yes; it's surprising.
ETHEL, Oh, yes. Her father was an extraordinary man, Henry says . . .
a musician and a poet. They had books and everything, apparently.
You'd think she's been living in Europe.
FREDDY. I see.
ETHEL. Listen to this: [Reads.] "About my name . . . I forgot to
explain. You see, Anna sounds like England . . . or New England . . .
and I am not the least like those places. Father used to see me, as a little
tot, diving through the breakers, and floating out in the sea, with the
snow-white frigate- birds flashing by overhead; and he said I was the

very spirit of the island and the wild, lonely ocean. So he called me
Oceana, and that's the name I've always borne."
FREDDY. It just fits my idea of her.
ETHEL. She goes on: "You mustn't be surprised at what I am. You
may think it's dreadful . . . even wicked. But at least don't expect
anything like you've ever known before. Fifteen years with only cocoa-
palms and naked savages . . . the Boston varnish rubs off one. But I'm
going to try to behave. I expect to feel quite at home . . . I have pictures
of all of you, and a picture of the house . . . I even have father's keys, to
let myself in with!"
FREDDY. Can you play her music, Ethel?
ETHEL. Play it? I could play it in my sleep. [Opens piano.] The
Sunrise Dance! [She sits and plays.] Listen!
[She plunges into the ecstatic part of the music. FREDDY leans by the
piano, watching her; she plays, more and more enthralled. The door
opens softly.]
[OCEANA enters; a girl of twenty-two, superbly formed, dark-skinned,
a picture of glowing health. She is clad in a short skirt and a rough
sailor's reefer with cap to match; underneath this a knitted garment,
tight-fitting and soft - no corsets. She carries two extremely heavy
suitcases, and with no apparent effort. She sets these down and stands
listening to the music, completely absorbed in it. There is the faintest
suggestion of the Sunrise Dance in her