American drama -- 20th century; American essays -- 20th century
We broke away, and he was tottering and groggy. He staggered away and
started to whirl the swing. I saw it coming. I made believe I didn't
and started after him in a rush. Biff! It caught me on the jaw, and I
went down. I was young and strong. I could eat punishment. I could
have got up the first second. But I lay there and let them count me out.
And making believe I was still dazed, I let them carry me to my corner
and work to bring me to. [Pause.]
Well, I faked that fight.
MAUD. [Springing to him and shaking his hand.] Thank God! Oh! You are
a man! A--a--a hero!
FITZSIMMONS. [Dryly, feeling in his pocket.] Let's have a smoke. [He
fails to find cigarette case.]
MAUD. I can't tell you how glad I am you told me that.
FITZSIMMONS. [Gruffly.] Forget it. [He looks on table, and fails to
find cigarette case. Looks at her suspiciously, then crosses to desk at
right and reaches for telephone.]
MAUD. [Curiously.] What are you going to do?
FITZSIMMONS. Call the police.
MAUD. What for?
FITZSIMMONS. For you.
MAUD. For me?
FITZSIMMONS. You are not Harry Jones. And not only are you an impostor,
but you are a thief.
MAUD. [Indignantly.] How dare you?
FITZSIMMONS. You have stolen my cigarette case.
MAUD. [Remembering and taken aback, pulls out cigarette case.] Here it
is.
FITZSIMMONS. Too late. It won't save you. This club must be kept
respectable. Thieves cannot be tolerated.
MAUD. [Growing alarm.] But you won't have me arrested?
FITZSIMMONS. I certainly will.
MAUD. [Pleadingly.] Please! Please!
FITZSIMMONS. [Obdurately.] I see no reason why I should not.
MAUD. [Hurriedly, in a panic.] I'll give you a reason--a--a good one.
I--I--am not Harry Jones.
FITZSIMMONS. [Grimly.] A good reason in itself to call in the police.
MAUD. That isn't the reason. I'm--a--Oh! I'm so ashamed.
FITZSIMMONS. [Sternly.] I should say you ought to be. [Reaches for
telephone receiver.]
MAUD. [In rush of desperation.] Stop! I'm a--I'm a--a girl. There!
[Sinks down in chair, burying her face in her hands.]
[FITZSIMMONS, hanging up receiver, grunts.]
[MAUD removes hands and looks at him indignantly. As she speaks her
indignation grows.]
MAUD. I only wanted your cigarette case to prove to my brother that I
had been here. I--I'm Maud Sylvester, and you never took me out once.
And I'm not a black sheep. And I don't dress loudly, and I haven't a--a
tapeworm.
FITZSIMMONS. [Grinning and pulling out card from vest pocket.] I knew
you were Miss Sylvester all the time.
MAUD. Oh! You brute! I'll never speak to you again.
FITZSIMMONS. [Gently.] You'll let me see you safely out of here.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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