SCENE--Billy Brown's Office, at five in the afternoon. At center, a fine mahogany desk with a swivel chair in back of it. To the left of desk, an office armchair. To the right of desk, an office lounge. The background is a backdrop of an office wall, treated similarly to that of Scene One in its over-meticulous representation of detail.
Billy Brown is seated at the desk looking over a blue print by the light of a desk lamp. He has grown into a fine-looking, well-dressed, capable, college-bred American business man, boyish still and with the same engaging personality.
The telephone rings.
BROWN--(answering it) Yes? Who? (this in surprise--then with eager pleasure) Let her come right in. (He gets up and goes to the door, expectant and curious. Margaret enters. Her face is concealed behind the mask of the pretty young matron, still hardly a woman, who cultivates a naïvely innocent and bravely hopeful attitude toward things and acknowledges no wound to the world. She is dressed as in Scene One but with an added touch of effective primping here and there.)
MARGARET--(very gayly) Hello, Billy Brown!
BROWN--(awkward in her presence, shakes her hand) Come in. Sit down. This is a pleasant surprise, Margaret. (She sits down on the lounge. He sits in his chair behind the desk, as before.)
MARGARET--(looking around) What lovely offices! My, but Billy Brown is getting grand!
BROWN--(pleased) I've just moved in. The old place was too stuffy.
MARGARET--It looks so prosperous--but then, Billy is doing so wonderfully well, everyone says.
BROWN--(modestly) Well, to be frank, it's been mostly luck. Things have come my way without my doing much about it. (then, with an abashed pride) Still--I have done a little something myself. (He picks the plan from the desk.) See this? It's my design for the new Municipal Building. It's just been accepted--provisionally--by the Committee.
MARGARET--(taking it--vaguely) Oh? (She looks at it abstractedly. There is a pause. Suddenly) You mentioned the other day how well Dion used to draw--
BROWN--(a bit stiffly) Yes, he certainly did. (He takes the drawing from her and at once becomes interested and squints at it frowningly.) Did you notice that anything seemed lacking in this?
MARGARET--(indifferently) Not at all.
BROWN--(with a cheerful grin) The Committee want it made a little more American. It's too much of a conventional Greco-Roman tomb, they say. (laughs) They want an original touch of modern novelty stuck in to liven it up and make it look different from other town halls. (putting the drawing back on his desk) And I've been figuring out how to give it to them but my mind doesn't seem to run that way. Have you any suggestion?
MARGARET--(as if she hadn't heard) Dion certainly draws well, Billy Brown was saying?
BROWN--(trying not to show his annoyance) Why, yes--he did--and still can, I expect. (A pause. He masters what he feels to be an unworthy pique and turns to her generously.) Dion would have made a cracking good architect.
MARGARET--(proudly) I know. He could be anything he wanted to.
BROWN--(a pause--embarrassedly) Is he working at anything these days?
MARGARET--(defensively) Oh, yes! He's painting wonderfully! But he's just like a child, he's so impractical. He doesn't try to have an exhibition anywhere, or anything.
BROWN--(surprised) The one time I ran into him, I thought he told me he'd destroyed all his pictures--that he'd gotten sick of painting and completely given it up.
MARGARET--(quickly) He always tells people that. He doesn't want anyone even to look at his things, imagine! He keeps saying they're rotten--when they're really too beautiful! He's too modest for his own good, don't you think? But it is true he hasn't done so much lately since we've been back. You see the children take up such a lot of his time. He just worships them! I'm afraid he's becoming a hopeless family man, just the opposite of what anyone would expect who knew him in the old days.
BROWN--(painfully embarrassed by her loyalty and his knowledge of the facts) Yes, I know. (He coughs self-consciously.)
MARGARET--(aroused by something in his manner) But I suppose the gossips are telling the same silly stories about him they always did. (She forces a laugh.) Poor Dion! Give a dog a bad name! (Her voice breaks a little in spite of herself.)
BROWN--(hastily) I haven't heard any stories--(he stops uncertainly, then decides to plunge in)--except about money matters.
MARGARET--(forcing a laugh) Oh, perhaps they're true enough. Dion is such a generous fool with his money, like all artists.
BROWN--(with a certain doggedness) There's a rumor that you've applied for a position at the Library.
MARGARET--(forcing a gay tone) Yes, indeed! Won't it be fun! Maybe it'll improve my mind! And one of us has got to be practical, so why not me? (She forces a gay, girlish laugh.)
<!--pagebreak-->BROWN--(impulsively reaches out and takes her hand--awkwardly) Listen, Margaret. Let's be perfectly frank, will you? I'm such an old friend, and I want like the deuce to. . . . You know darn well I'd do anything in the world to help you--or Dion.
MARGARET--(withdrawing her hand, coldly) I'm afraid I--don't understand, Billy Brown.
BROWN--(acutely embarrassed) Well, I--I just meant--you know, if you needed--(A pause. He looks questioningly at her averted face--then ventures on another tack, matter-of-factly.) I've got a proposition to make to Dion--if I could ever get hold of him. It's this way: business has been piling up on me--a run of luck--but I'm short-handed. I need a crack chief draftsman darn badly--or I'm liable to lose out. Do you think Dion would consider it--as a temporary stop-gap--until he felt in the painting mood again?
MARGARET--(striving to conceal her eagerness and relief--judicially) Yes--I really do. He's such a good sport and Billy and he were such pals once. I know he'd be only too tickled to help him out.
BROWN--(diffidently) I thought he might be sensitive about working for--I mean, with me--when, if he hadn't sold out to Dad he'd be my partner now--(earnestly)--and, by jingo, I wish he was! (then, abruptly) Let's try to nail him down right away, Margaret. Is he home now? (He reaches for the phone.)
MARGARET--(hurriedly) No, he--he went out for a long walk.
BROWN--Perhaps I can locate him later around town somewhere.
MARGARET--(with a note of pleading) Please don't trouble. It isn't necessary. I'm sure when I talk to him--he's coming home to dinner--(getting up) Then it's all settled, isn't it? Dion will be so glad to be able to help an old friend--he's so terribly loyal, and he's always liked Billy Brown so much! (holding out her hand) I really must go now!
BROWN--(shakes her hand) Good-by, Margaret. I hope you'll be dropping in on us a lot when Dion gets here.
MARGARET--Yes. (She goes.)
BROWN--(sits at his desk again, looking ahead in a not unsatisfying melancholy reverie. He mutters admiringly but pityingly) Poor Margaret! She's a game sport, but it's pretty damn tough on her! (indignantly) By God, I'm going to give Dion a good talking-to one of these days!
(Curtain)