OCEANA. My father taught me to face the facts of my being. My father was a fighter, you know. MRS. MASTERSON. [Grimly.] Yes, I knew that. OCEANA. Life had hurt him. Some day you must tell me about it... what it was that happened to him here in Boston. He never would talk about it, but I've often wondered. It must have been my mother. What did she do to him before she died? [She pauses, expecting an answer.] Was it that she was just conventional like you? [She pauses again.] It must have been something dreadful... he felt so keenly about it. He burned it into my very soul... his fear of civilization. And here I am... right in the midst of it... I'm letting it get its claws into me! I'm wearing its clothes... [She tears at them.] I'm breathing its air! I don't believe I can stand it! [She paces the room restlessly.] My soul is suffocating, as well as my body. I must have something to remind me of the sky, and the open sea, and the great spaces. I must go back again to my home, to my island! [Stretches out her arms to them appealingly.] Ah, can't some of you understand about it? Can't some of you take pity on me? It's so strange to me... so different from everything I've been used to! Aunt Sophronia! MRS. MASTERSON. [Takes a step reluctantly.] My dear! ETHEL. [Springing forward.] No! No! They don't understand! They don't really care. MRS. MASTERSON. Ethel! OCEANA. But you! Ethel! ETHEL. [Rushes and flings herself at OCEANA'S feet, clutching her dress.] Take me with you! Take me away to your island! OCEANA. [Turning to FREDDY.] And you... won't you be my friend? FREDDY. [Goes to her.] I will! [She holds out her hand to him; he hesitates, gazing at her awe-stricken.] May I... may I take your hand? OCEANA. Why certainly! FREDDY. [With fervor.] Oceana! [CURTAIN] ACT II SCENE: Same as Act I. [At rise: DR. MASTERSON in easy-chair near the window; opens newspaper, sighs, wipes glasses, prepares to read.] MRS. MASTERSON. [Enters with LETITIA.] Well! DR. MASTERSON. Home, are you? MRS. MASTERSON. Yes! And such a day! LETITIA. Shopping with Oceana! DR. MASTERSON. Humph! MRS. MASTERSON. Imagine buying clothes for a woman who won't squeeze her waist, and won't let her skirts touch the ground! DR. MASTERSON. Why didn't you take her to the men's department? LETITIA. Don't make a joke of it, father. DR. MASTERSON. How did you make out? MRS. MASTERSON. Well, we've got her so the police won't molest her. LETITIA. We told Madame Clarice her trunks had been misplaced in the steamer hold. DR. MASTERSON. Ingenious! MRS. MASTERSON. Yes! Only she spoiled it all by telling the truth! DR. MASTERSON. Where is she now? MRS. MASTERSON. She's walking... she says she must have exercise. LETITIA. The air in the limousine is close, it seems. DR. MASTERSON. You got something she could wear to-night? MRS. MASTERSON. Oh, yes, that part's all right. If I could only have selected the things she's going to SAY to-night! [A pause.]