ADELAIDE: It's easy to feel one's self set apart!
CLAIRE: No, it isn't.
ADELAIDE: (_beginning anew_) It's a new age, Claire. Spiritual values--
CLAIRE: Spiritual values! (_in her brooding way_) So you have pulled that up. (_with cunning_) Don't think I don't know what it is you do.
ADELAIDE: Well, what do I do? I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.
HARRY: (_affectionately, as_ CLAIRE _is looking with intentness at what he does not see_) What does she do, Claire?
CLAIRE: It's rather clever, what she does. Snatching the phrase--(_a movement as if pulling something up_) standing it up between her and--the life that's there. And by saying it enough--'We have life! We have life! We have life!' Very good come-back at one who would really be--'Just so! _We_ are that. Right this way, please--'That, I suppose is what we mean by needing each other. All join in the chorus, 'This is it!
This is it! This is it!' And anyone who won't join is to be--visited by relatives, (_regarding_ ADELAIDE _with curiosity_) Do you really think that anything is going on in you?
ADELAIDE: (_stiffly_) I am not one to hold myself up as a perfect example of what the human race may be.
CLAIRE: (_brightly_) Well, that's good.
HARRY: Claire!
CLAIRE: Humility's a _real_ thing--not just a fine name for laziness.
HARRY: Well, Lord A'mighty, you can't call Adelaide lazy.
CLAIRE: She stays in one place because she hasn't the energy to go anywhere else.
ADELAIDE: (_as if the last word in absurdity has been said) I_ haven't energy?
CLAIRE: (_mildly_) You haven't any energy at all, Adelaide. That's why you keep so busy.
ADELAIDE: _Well_--Claire's nerves are in a worse state than I had realized.
CLAIRE: So perhaps we'd better look at Blake's drawings, (_takes up the book_)
ADELAIDE: It would be all right for me to look at Blake's drawings.
You'd better look at the Sistine Madonna, (_affectionately, after she has watched_ CLAIRE_'s face a moment_) What is it, Claire? Why do you shut yourself out from us?
CLAIRE: I told you. Because I do not want to be shut in with you.
ADELAIDE: All of this is not very pleasant for Harry.
HARRY: I want Claire to be gay.
CLAIRE: Funny--you should want that, (_speaks unwillingly, a curious, wistful unwillingness_) Did you ever say a preposterous thing, then go trailing after the thing you've said and find it wasn't so preposterous?
Here is the circle we are in._describes a big circle_) Being gay. It shoots little darts through the circle, and a minute later--gaiety all gone, and you looking through that little hole the gaiety left.
ADELAIDE: (_going to her, as she is still looking through that little hole_) Claire, dear, I wish I could make you feel how much I care for you. (_simply, with real feeling_) You can call me all the names you like--dull, commonplace, lazy--that is a new idea, I confess, but the rest of our family's gone now, and the love that used to be there between us all--the only place for it now is between you and me. You were so much loved, Claire. You oughtn't to try and get away from a world in which you are so much loved, (_to_ HARRY) Mother--father--all of us, always loved Claire best. We always loved Claire's queer gaiety.
Now you've got to hand it to us for that, as the children say.
CLAIRE: (_moved, but eyes shining with a queer bright loneliness_) But never one of you--once--looked with me through the little pricks the gaiety made--never one of you--once, looked with me at the queer light that came in through the pricks.
ADELAIDE: And can't you see, dear, that it's better for us we didn't?
And that it would be better for you now if you would just resolutely look somewhere else? You must see yourself that you haven't the poise of people who are held--well, within the circle, if you choose to put it that way. There's something about being in that main body, having one's roots in the big common experiences, gives a calm which you have missed.
That's _why_ I want you to take Elizabeth, forget yourself, and--
CLAIRE: I do want calm. But mine would have to be a calm I--worked my way to. A calm all prepared for me--would stink.
ADELAIDE: (_less sympathetically_) I know you have to be yourself, Claire. But I don't admit you have a right to hurt other people.
HARRY: I think Claire and I had better take a nice long trip.
ADELAIDE: Now why don't you?
CLAIRE: I am taking a trip.
ADELAIDE: Well, Harry isn't, and he'd like to go and wants you to go with him. Go to Paris and get yourself some awfully good-looking clothes--and have one grand fling at the gay world. You really love that, Claire, and you've been awfully dull lately. I think that's the whole trouble.
HARRY: I think so too.
ADELAIDE: This sober business of growing plants--
CLAIRE: Not sober--it's mad.
ADELAIDE: All the more reason for quitting it.
CLAIRE: But madness that is the only chance for sanity.
ADELAIDE: Come, come, now--let's not juggle words.
CLAIRE: (_springing up_) How dare you say that to me, Adelaide. You who are such a liar and thief and whore with words!
ADELAIDE: (_facing her, furious_) How _dare_ you--
HARRY: Of course not, Claire. You have the most preposterous way of using words.
CLAIRE: I respect words.
ADELAIDE: Well, you'll please respect me enough not to dare use certain words to me!
CLAIRE: Yes, I do dare. I'm tired of what you do--you and all of you.
Life--experience--values--calm--sensitive words which raise their heads as indications. And you _pull them up_--to decorate your stagnant little minds--and think that makes you--And because you have pulled that word from the life that grew it you won't let one who's honest, and aware, and troubled, try to reach through to--to what she doesn't know is there, (_she is moved, excited, as if a cruel thing has been done_) Why did you come here?
ADELAIDE: To try and help you. But I begin to fear I can't do it. It's pretty egotistical to claim that what so many people are, is wrong.
(_CLAIRE, after looking intently at ADELAIDE, slowly, smiling a little, describes a circle. With deftly used hands makes a quick vicious break in the circle which is there in the air._)
HARRY: (_going to her, taking her hands_) It's getting close to dinner-time. You were thinking of something else, Claire, when I told you Charlie Emmons was coming to dinner to-night, (_answering her look_) Sure--he is a neurologist, and I want him to see you. I'm perfectly honest with you--cards all on the table, you know that. I'm hoping if you like him--and he's the best scout in the world, that he can help you. (_talking hurriedly against the stillness which follows her look from him to ADELAIDE, where she sees between them an 'understanding'
about her_) Sure you need help, Claire. Your nerves are a little on the blink--from all you've been doing. No use making a mystery of it--or a tragedy. Emmons is a cracker-jack, and naturally I want you to get a move on yourself and be happy again.