out a check
.] —
is a—quite a—worthwhile—investment . . .
HELENA: I should think it would strike you as one after confinement with Miss Bodenhafer in this nightmare of colors.
DOROTHEA: Oh. —Yes . —Excuse me . . . [
she extends the check slightly
.]
HELENA: —Are you holding it out for the ink to dry on it?
DOROTHEA: —Sorry . —Here . [
She crosses to Helena and hands the check to her
.]
[
Helena puts on her glasses to examine the check carefully. She then folds it, puts it into her purse, and snaps the purse shut
.]
HELENA: Well, that’s that. I hate financial dealings but they do have to be dealt with. Don’t they?
DOROTHEA: Yes, they seem to . . .
HELENA: Require it. —Oh , contract.
DOROTHEA: Contract? For the apartment?
HELENA: Oh, no, a book on contract bridge, the bidding system and so forth. You do play bridge a little? I asked you once before and you said you did sometimes.
DOROTHEA: Here?
HELENA: Naturally not here. But on Westmoreland Place I hope you’ll join in the twice-weekly games. You remember Joan Goode?
DOROTHEA: Yes, vaguely. Why?
HELENA: We were partners in duplicate bridge, which we usually played, worked out our own set of bidding conventions. But now Joan’s gone to Wellesley for her Master’s degree in, of all things, the pre-Ptolemaic dynasties of Egypt.
DOROTHEA: Did she do that? I didn’t know what she did.
HELENA: You were only very casually—
DOROTHEA: Acquainted.
HELENA: My cousin Dee-Dee from La Due takes part whenever her social calendar permits her to. She often sends over dainty little sandwiches, watercress, tomato, sherbets from Zeller’s in the summer. And a nicely uniformed maid to serve.Well, now we’re convening from auction to contract, which is more complicated but stimulates the mind. —Dorothea , you have an abstracted look. Are you troubled over something?
DOROTHEA: Are these parties mixed?
HELENA: “Mixed” in what manner?
DOROTHEA: I mean would I invite Ralph?
HELENA: I have a feeling that Mr. T. Ralph Ellis might not be able to spare the time this summer. And anyway, professional women do need social occasions without the—male intrusion . . .
DOROTHEA [
with spirit
]: I’ve never thought of the presence of men as being an intrusion.
HELENA: Dorothea, that’s just a lingering symptom of your Southern belle complex.
DOROTHEA: In order to be completely honest with you, Helena, I think I ought to tell you—I probably won’t be able to share expenses with you in Westmoreland Place for very long, Helena!
HELENA: Oh, is that so? Is that why you’ve given me the postdated check which you could cancel tomorrow?
DOROTHEA: You know I wouldn’t do that, but—
HELENA: Yes, but—you could and possibly you would. . . . Look before you, there stands the specter that confronts you . . .
DOROTHEA: Miss??
HELENA: Gluck, the perennial, the irremediable, Miss Gluck! You probably think me superficial to value as much as I do, cousin Dee-Dee of La Due, contract bridge, possession of an elegant foreign car. Dorothea, only such things can protect us from a future of descent into the Gluck abyss of surrender to the bottom level of squalor. Look at it and tell me honestly that you can afford not to provide yourself with the Westmoreland Place apartment . . . its elevation, its style, its kind of
éclat
.
[
Miss Gluck, who has come out of the kitchenette and moved downstage during Helena’s speech, throws a glass of water in Helena’s face
.]
DOROTHEA: Bodey, RESTRAIN HER, RESTRAIN MISS GLUCK, SHE’S TURNED VIOLENT.
BODEY: Sophie, no, no. I didn’t say you done wrong. I think you done right. I don’t think you did enough.
HELENA: Violence does exist in the vegetable kingdom, you see! It doesn’t terrify me since I shall soon be safely out of its range. . . . Just let me draw two good deep breaths and I’ll be myself again. [
She does so
.] That did it. . . . I’m back in my skin. Oh, Dorothea, we
.] —
is a—quite a—worthwhile—investment . . .
HELENA: I should think it would strike you as one after confinement with Miss Bodenhafer in this nightmare of colors.
DOROTHEA: Oh. —Yes . —Excuse me . . . [
she extends the check slightly
.]
HELENA: —Are you holding it out for the ink to dry on it?
DOROTHEA: —Sorry . —Here . [
She crosses to Helena and hands the check to her
.]
[
Helena puts on her glasses to examine the check carefully. She then folds it, puts it into her purse, and snaps the purse shut
.]
HELENA: Well, that’s that. I hate financial dealings but they do have to be dealt with. Don’t they?
DOROTHEA: Yes, they seem to . . .
HELENA: Require it. —Oh , contract.
DOROTHEA: Contract? For the apartment?
HELENA: Oh, no, a book on contract bridge, the bidding system and so forth. You do play bridge a little? I asked you once before and you said you did sometimes.
DOROTHEA: Here?
HELENA: Naturally not here. But on Westmoreland Place I hope you’ll join in the twice-weekly games. You remember Joan Goode?
DOROTHEA: Yes, vaguely. Why?
HELENA: We were partners in duplicate bridge, which we usually played, worked out our own set of bidding conventions. But now Joan’s gone to Wellesley for her Master’s degree in, of all things, the pre-Ptolemaic dynasties of Egypt.
DOROTHEA: Did she do that? I didn’t know what she did.
HELENA: You were only very casually—
DOROTHEA: Acquainted.
HELENA: My cousin Dee-Dee from La Due takes part whenever her social calendar permits her to. She often sends over dainty little sandwiches, watercress, tomato, sherbets from Zeller’s in the summer. And a nicely uniformed maid to serve.Well, now we’re convening from auction to contract, which is more complicated but stimulates the mind. —Dorothea , you have an abstracted look. Are you troubled over something?
DOROTHEA: Are these parties mixed?
HELENA: “Mixed” in what manner?
DOROTHEA: I mean would I invite Ralph?
HELENA: I have a feeling that Mr. T. Ralph Ellis might not be able to spare the time this summer. And anyway, professional women do need social occasions without the—male intrusion . . .
DOROTHEA [
with spirit
]: I’ve never thought of the presence of men as being an intrusion.
HELENA: Dorothea, that’s just a lingering symptom of your Southern belle complex.
DOROTHEA: In order to be completely honest with you, Helena, I think I ought to tell you—I probably won’t be able to share expenses with you in Westmoreland Place for very long, Helena!
HELENA: Oh, is that so? Is that why you’ve given me the postdated check which you could cancel tomorrow?
DOROTHEA: You know I wouldn’t do that, but—
HELENA: Yes, but—you could and possibly you would. . . . Look before you, there stands the specter that confronts you . . .
DOROTHEA: Miss??
HELENA: Gluck, the perennial, the irremediable, Miss Gluck! You probably think me superficial to value as much as I do, cousin Dee-Dee of La Due, contract bridge, possession of an elegant foreign car. Dorothea, only such things can protect us from a future of descent into the Gluck abyss of surrender to the bottom level of squalor. Look at it and tell me honestly that you can afford not to provide yourself with the Westmoreland Place apartment . . . its elevation, its style, its kind of
éclat
.
[
Miss Gluck, who has come out of the kitchenette and moved downstage during Helena’s speech, throws a glass of water in Helena’s face
.]
DOROTHEA: Bodey, RESTRAIN HER, RESTRAIN MISS GLUCK, SHE’S TURNED VIOLENT.
BODEY: Sophie, no, no. I didn’t say you done wrong. I think you done right. I don’t think you did enough.
HELENA: Violence does exist in the vegetable kingdom, you see! It doesn’t terrify me since I shall soon be safely out of its range. . . . Just let me draw two good deep breaths and I’ll be myself again. [
She does so
.] That did it. . . . I’m back in my skin. Oh, Dorothea, we
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