The Naturewoman | Page 7

attitude.
[OCEANA is trusting, and yet with power of reserve. Throughout the
action, however vehemently she speaks, she seldom really grows angry;
she does not take the game seriously enough. On the other hand her
enjoyment, however keen, never becomes boisterous. Her actions
proceed from a continual overflow of animal health. She is like a little
child, in that she cannot remain physically still for very long at a time;
she moves about the room like an animal in a cage. Her speech
proceeds from an overwhelming interest in the truth, regardless of all

personality. She never conceals anything, and she never represses
anything.]
ETHEL. [Finishes the music, then turns, and leaps up.] Oceana!
FREDDY. [Turns.] Oceana!
OCEANA. Ethel! [Embraces her.] Oh, my dear! How glad I am to see
you!
ETHEL. Oceana! But how did you get here?
OCEANA. I came on the steamer.
FREDDY. But it isn't docked
OCEANA. They took us to another dock.
ETHEL. [Holds her at arm's length.] Oh, how fine you are!
OCEANA. And you--you can play my father's music! I'm so glad!
ETHEL. You liked the way I played it?
OCEANA. I liked it! And so I know I shall like you! And I'm so happy
about it--I wanted to like you!
ETHEL. But how big you are!
OCEANA. [Laughing.] Oh, that's the clothes. I got them in Rio.
They're queer, I guess, but I only had a couple of hours. And this is
Freddy! [They shake hands.] It's so good to be here!
FREDDY. How did you get from the dock?
OCEANA. I walked.
ETHEL. Walked all the way?

OCEANA. Of course . . . I enjoyed it.
ETHEL. But in the storm!
OCEANA. I didn't mind that. It's all new to me, you see. My dear,
think of it . . . I've never seen snow before. I was fairly crazy.
[She pulls off the coat and throws it on one of the suitcases.]
ETHEL. I must tell mother. And Letitia! [Opens door arid calls.]
Mother! Letitia! Oceana's here!
FREDDY. [Stoops to pick up the suitcases.] Why . . .
OCEANA. What is it?
FREDDY. [He moves them against the wall with a great effort.] You
don't mean you CARRIED those!
OCEANA. Why, yes.
FREDDY. From the docks?
OCEANA. [Laughs.] Oh, dear me! I didn't mind that.
FREDDY. Well . . . I'll be blowed!
[He has fallen head over heels in love with her, and whenever he is in
her presence he follows her about with his eyes, like one bewitched.]
OCEANA. You aren't strong as you ought to be! You stay too much in
the house!
ETHEL. Here's mother!
OCEANA. Aunt Sophronia!
MRS. MASTERSON. [Enters.] My dear Anna! [Kisses her upon the
cheek.] I am delighted to see you safe.

ETHEL. And Letitia!
OCEANA. Cousin Letitia!
LETITIA. [Enters.] My dear cousin! So glad you are here!
OCEANA. [Looking from one to the other, as they eye her critically.]
Oh, are you really glad to see me? You must be, you know . . . for I've
come so far. And you've no idea how homesick I've been.
MRS. MASTERSON. Homesick, my dear? For that wild place you
left?
OCEANA. But Aunt Sophronia, that's my home! And it's God's own
dream of beauty!
MRS. MASTERSON. Yes, my dear . . . I dare say . . .
OCEANA. Ah, you've never been there, or you wouldn't feel that way!
Picture it as it is at this moment . . . the broad white beach . . . the sun
setting and the clouds aflame . . . the great green breakers rolling in . . .
the frigate- birds calling . . . the palm trees rustling in the wind! And
you don't have to wrap yourself up in clothes . . . you don't have to shut
yourself up in houses! You plunge through the surf, you dance upon the
beach . . . naked . . .
MRS. MASTERSON. [Aghast.] My dear girl!
OCEANA. Oh, oh! That's so! I beg your pardon!
MRS. MASTERSON. [Coldly.] It will take you, a little while to get
used to civilized ways . . .
OCEANA. Oh, no, no, no! I know about that . . . I know how it is.
Father told me about Boston.
MRS. MASTERSON. My dear . . .
OCEANA. Don't worry about me. I'm really going to try to behave

myself . . . in every way. I want to get the right sort of clothes, you
know. I couldn't get them on my trip . . .
MRS. MASTERSON. It's just as well, my dear. You'd best have us
attend to that. You will need mourning for quite a while, you
understand.
OCEANA. Mourning!
MRS. MASTERSON. Yes . . . for your grandfather.
OCEANA. But, my dear Aunt Sophronia,