right, I'll be careful. But while we are – er – on this subject, there's something I'd like to speak to you about.
(A pause, in which Starkweather waits non-committally.) It's this man Knox, and Madge. He comes to the house. They are as thick as thieves.
Starkweather
Yes?
Chalmers
(Hastily.) Oh, not a breath of suspicion or anything of that sort, I assure you. But it doesn't strike me as exactly appropriate that your daughter and my wife should be friendly with this fire-eating anarchist who is always attacking us and all that we represent.
Starkweather
I started to speak with her on that subject, but was interrupted.
(Puckers brow and thinks.) You are her husband. Why don't you take her in hand yourself?
(Enters Mrs. Starkweather from rear, looking about, bowing, then locating Starkweather and proceeding toward him.)
Chalmers
What can I do? She has a will of her own – the same sort of a will that you have. Besides, I think she knows about my – about some of my – indiscretions.
Starkweather
(Slyly.)
Harmless indiscretions?
(Chalmers is about to reply, but observes Mrs. Starkweather approaching.)
Mrs. Starkweather
(Speaks in a peevish, complaining voice, and during her harrangue Starkweather immerses himself in notebook.) Oh, there you are, Anthony. Talking politics, I suppose. Well, as soon as I get a cup of tea we must go. Tommy is not looking as well as I could wish. Margaret loves him, but she does not take the right care of him. I don't know what the world is coming to when mothers do not know how to rear their offspring. There is Margaret, with her slum kindergartens, taking care of everybody else's children but her own. If she only performed her church duties as eagerly! Mr. Rutland is displeased with her. I shall give her a talking to – only, you'd better do it, Anthony. Somehow, I have never counted much with Margaret. She is as set in doing what she pleases as you are. In my time children paid respect to their parents. This is what comes of speed. There is no time for anything. And now I must get my tea and run. Connie has to dress for that dinner.
(Mrs. Starkweather crosses to table, greets others characteristically and is served with tea by Connie.)
(Chalmers waits respectfully on Starkweather.)
Starkweather
(Looking up from note-book.) That will do, Tom.
(Chalmers is just starting across to join others, when voices are heard outside rear entrance, and Margaret enters with Dolores Ortega, wife of the Peruvian Minister, and Matsu Sakari, Secretary of Japanese Legation – both of whom she has met as they were entering the house.)
(Chalmers changes his course, and meets the above advancing group. He knows Dolores Ortega, whom he greets, and is introduced to Sakari.)
(Margaret passes on among guests, greeting them, etc. Then she displaces Connie at tea-table and proceeds to dispense tea to the newcomers.)
(Groups slowly form and seat themselves about stage as follows: Chalmers and Dolores Ortega; Rutland, Dowsett, Mrs. Starkweather; Connie, Mr. Dowsett, and Hubbard.)
(Chalmers carries tea to Dolores Ortega.)
(Sakari has been lingering by table, waiting for tea and pattering with Margaret, Chalmers, etc.)
Margaret
(Handing cup to Sakari.) I am very timid in offering you this, for I am sure you must be appalled by our barbarous methods of making tea.
Sakari
(Bowing.) It is true, your American tea, and the tea of the English, are quite radically different from the tea in my country. But one learns, you know. I served my apprenticeship to American tea long years ago, when I was at Yale. It was perplexing, I assure you – at first, only at first I really believe that I am beginning to have a – how shall I call it? – a tolerance for tea in your fashion.
Margaret
You are very kind in overlooking our shortcomings.
Sakari
(Bowing.) On the contrary, I am unaware, always unaware, of any shortcomings of this marvelous country of yours.
Margaret
(Laughing.) You are incorrigibly gracious, Mr. Sakari. (Knox appears at threshold of rear entrance and pauses irresolutely for a moment)
Sakari
(Noticing Knox, and looking about him to select which group he will join.) If I may be allowed, I shall now retire and consume this – tea.
(Joins group composed of Connie, Mrs. Dowsett, and Hubbard.)
(Knox comes forward to Margaret, betraying a certain awkwardness due to lack of experience in such social functions. He greets Margaret and those in the group nearest her.)
Knox
(To Margaret.) I don't know why I come here. I do not belong. All the ways are strange.
Margaret
(Lightly, at the same time preparing his tea.) The same Ali Baba – once again in the den of the forty thieves. But your watch and pocket-book are safe here, really they are.
(Knox makes a gesture of dissent at her facetiousness.) Now don't be serious. You should relax sometimes. You live too tensely.
(Looking at Starkweather.) There's the arch-anarch over there, the dragon you are trying to slay.
(Knox looks at Starkweather and is plainly perplexed.) The man who handles all the life insurance funds, who controls more strings of banks and trust companies than all the Rothschilds a hundred times over – the merger of iron and steel and coal and shipping and all the other things – the man who blocks your child labor bill and all the rest of the remedial legislation you advocate. In short, my father.
Knox
(Looking intently at Starkweather.) I should have recognized him from his photographs. But why do you say such things?
Margaret
Because they are true.
(He remains silent.) Now, aren't they? (She laughs.) Oh, you don't need to answer. You know the truth, the whole bitter truth. This is a den of thieves. There is Mr. Hubbard over there, for instance, the trusty journalist lieutenant of the corporations.
Knox
(With an expression of disgust.) I know him. It was he that wrote the Standard Oil side of the story, after having abused Standard Oil for years in the pseudo-muck-raking magazines. He made them come up to his price, that was all. He's the star writer on Cartwright's, now, since that magazine changed its policy and became subsidizedly reactionary. I know him – a thoroughly dishonest man. Truly am I Ali Baba, and truly I wonder why I am here.
Margaret
You are here, sir, because I like you to come.
Knox
We do have much in common, you and I.
Margaret
The future.
Knox
(Gravely, looking at her with shining eyes.) I sometimes fear for more immediate reasons than that.
(Margaret looks at him in alarm, and at the same