must, must advance in appearances. You don’t seem to know how vastly important it is, the move to Westmoreland Place, particularly now at this time when you must escape from reminders of, specters of, that alternative there! Surrender without conditions . . .
DOROTHEA: Sorry. I am a little abstracted. Helena, you sound as if you haven’t even suspected that Ralph and I have been dating . . .
HELENA: Seriously?
DOROTHEA: Well, now that I’ve mentioned it to you, yes, quite. You see, I don’t intend to devote the rest of my life to teaching civics at Blewett. I dream, I’ve always dreamed, of a marriage someday, and I think you should know that it might become a reality this summer.
HELENA: With whom?
DOROTHEA: Why, naturally with the person whom I love. And obviously loves me.
HELENA: T? RALPH? ELLIS?
[
Bodey, still in the kitchenette, nervously sings “Me and My Shadow
.”]
DOROTHEA: I thought I’d made that clear, thought I’d made everything clear.
HELENA: Oh, Dorothea, my dear. I hope and pray that you haven’t allowed him to take advantage of your—generous nature.
DOROTHEA: Miss Bodenhafer has the same apprehension.
HELENA: That is the one and only respect in which your friend, Miss Bodenhafer, and I have something in common.
DOROTHEA: Poor Miss Bodenhafer is terribly naïve for a girl approaching forty.
HELENA: Miss Bodenhafer is not approaching forty. She has encountered forty and continued past it, undaunted.
DOROTHEA: I don’t believe she’s the sort of girl who would conceal her age.
HELENA [
laughing like a cawing crow
]: Dorothea, no girl could tell me she’s under forty and still be singing a song of that vintage. Why, she knows every word of it, including—what do they call it? The introductory verse? Why is she cracking hard-boiled eggs in there?
DOROTHEA: She’s making deviled eggs for a picnic lunch.
HELENA: Oh. In Forest Park.
DOROTHEA: No, at Creve Coeur.
HELENA: Oh, at Creve Coeur, that amusement park on a lake, of which Miss Bodenheifer gave such a lyrical account. Would you like a Lucky?
DOROTHEA: No. Thank you. My father smoked Chesterfields. Do you know Creve Coeur?
HELENA: Heard of it. Only. You go out, just the two of you?
DOROTHEA: No, her brother, Buddy, usually goes with us on these excursions. They say they’ve been going out there since they were children, Bodey and Buddy. They still ride the Ferris wheel, you know, and there’s a sort of loop-the-loop that takes you down to the lake shore. Seats much too narrow sometimes. You see, it’s become embarrassing to me lately, the brother you know . . .
HELENA: Who doesn’t interest you?
DOROTHEA: Heavens, no, it’s—pathetic . I don’t want to hurt Bodey’s feelings, but the infatuation is hardly a mutual thing and it never could be, of course, since I am—well , involved with—
HELENA: The dashing, the irresistible new principal at Blewett.
[
Bodey sings
.]
DOROTHEA: —I’d rather not talk about that—prematurely , you know. Ralph feels it’s not quite proper for a principal to be involved with a teacher. He’s—a very, very scrupulous young man.
HELENA: Oh? Is that the impression he gives you? I’m rather surprised he’s given you that impression.
DOROTHEA: I don’t see why. Is it just because he’s young and attractive with breeding, background? Frequently mentioned in the social columns? Therefore beyond involvement with a person of my ignominious position.
HELENA: Personally, I’d avoid him like a—snakebite!
[
Bodey, in the kitchenette, sings “I’m Just Breezing along with the Breeze
”
again
.]
Another one of her oldies! The prospect of this picnic at Creve Coeur seems to make her absolutely euphoric.
DOROTHEA: I’m afraid that they’re the high points in her life. Sad . . . Helena, I’m very puzzled by your attitude toward Ralph Ellis. Why on earth would a girl want to avoid a charming young man like Ralph?
HELENA: Perhaps you’ll understand a little
DOROTHEA: Sorry. I am a little abstracted. Helena, you sound as if you haven’t even suspected that Ralph and I have been dating . . .
HELENA: Seriously?
DOROTHEA: Well, now that I’ve mentioned it to you, yes, quite. You see, I don’t intend to devote the rest of my life to teaching civics at Blewett. I dream, I’ve always dreamed, of a marriage someday, and I think you should know that it might become a reality this summer.
HELENA: With whom?
DOROTHEA: Why, naturally with the person whom I love. And obviously loves me.
HELENA: T? RALPH? ELLIS?
[
Bodey, still in the kitchenette, nervously sings “Me and My Shadow
.”]
DOROTHEA: I thought I’d made that clear, thought I’d made everything clear.
HELENA: Oh, Dorothea, my dear. I hope and pray that you haven’t allowed him to take advantage of your—generous nature.
DOROTHEA: Miss Bodenhafer has the same apprehension.
HELENA: That is the one and only respect in which your friend, Miss Bodenhafer, and I have something in common.
DOROTHEA: Poor Miss Bodenhafer is terribly naïve for a girl approaching forty.
HELENA: Miss Bodenhafer is not approaching forty. She has encountered forty and continued past it, undaunted.
DOROTHEA: I don’t believe she’s the sort of girl who would conceal her age.
HELENA [
laughing like a cawing crow
]: Dorothea, no girl could tell me she’s under forty and still be singing a song of that vintage. Why, she knows every word of it, including—what do they call it? The introductory verse? Why is she cracking hard-boiled eggs in there?
DOROTHEA: She’s making deviled eggs for a picnic lunch.
HELENA: Oh. In Forest Park.
DOROTHEA: No, at Creve Coeur.
HELENA: Oh, at Creve Coeur, that amusement park on a lake, of which Miss Bodenheifer gave such a lyrical account. Would you like a Lucky?
DOROTHEA: No. Thank you. My father smoked Chesterfields. Do you know Creve Coeur?
HELENA: Heard of it. Only. You go out, just the two of you?
DOROTHEA: No, her brother, Buddy, usually goes with us on these excursions. They say they’ve been going out there since they were children, Bodey and Buddy. They still ride the Ferris wheel, you know, and there’s a sort of loop-the-loop that takes you down to the lake shore. Seats much too narrow sometimes. You see, it’s become embarrassing to me lately, the brother you know . . .
HELENA: Who doesn’t interest you?
DOROTHEA: Heavens, no, it’s—pathetic . I don’t want to hurt Bodey’s feelings, but the infatuation is hardly a mutual thing and it never could be, of course, since I am—well , involved with—
HELENA: The dashing, the irresistible new principal at Blewett.
[
Bodey sings
.]
DOROTHEA: —I’d rather not talk about that—prematurely , you know. Ralph feels it’s not quite proper for a principal to be involved with a teacher. He’s—a very, very scrupulous young man.
HELENA: Oh? Is that the impression he gives you? I’m rather surprised he’s given you that impression.
DOROTHEA: I don’t see why. Is it just because he’s young and attractive with breeding, background? Frequently mentioned in the social columns? Therefore beyond involvement with a person of my ignominious position.
HELENA: Personally, I’d avoid him like a—snakebite!
[
Bodey, in the kitchenette, sings “I’m Just Breezing along with the Breeze
”
again
.]
Another one of her oldies! The prospect of this picnic at Creve Coeur seems to make her absolutely euphoric.
DOROTHEA: I’m afraid that they’re the high points in her life. Sad . . . Helena, I’m very puzzled by your attitude toward Ralph Ellis. Why on earth would a girl want to avoid a charming young man like Ralph?
HELENA: Perhaps you’ll understand a little
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