SCENE--The same--an evening a little over a year later. The room has undergone a significant change. There is a comfortable, homey atmosphere as though now it definitely belonged to the type of person it was built for. It has a proud air of modest prosperity.
It is soon after dinner--about eight o'clock. Evans is sitting by the table at left, glancing through a newspaper at headlines and reading an article here and there. Nina is in the chair at center, knitting a tiny sweater. Marsden is sitting on the sofa at right, holding a book which he pretends to be looking through, but glancing wonderingly at Evans and Nina.
There is a startling change in Evans. He is stouter, the haggard look of worry and self-conscious inferiority has gone from his face, it is full and healthy and satisfied. There is also, what is more remarkable, a decided look of solidity about him, of a determination moving toward ends it is confident it can achieve. He has matured, found his place in the world.
The change in Nina is also perceptible. She looks noticeably older, the traces of former suffering are marked on her face, but there is also an expression of present contentment and calm.
Marsden has aged greatly. His hair is gray, his expression one of a deep grief that is dying out into a resignation resentful of itself He is dressed immaculately in dark tweed.
NINA--(thinking)
I wonder if there's a draft in the baby's room? … maybe I'd better close the window? … oh, I guess it's all right … he needs lots of fresh air … little Gordon … he does remind me of Gordon … something in his eyes … my romantic imagination? … Ned said that … why hasn't Ned ever written? … it's better he hasn't … how he made me suffer! … but I forgive him … he gave me my baby … the baby certainly doesn't look like him … everyone says he looks like Sam … how absurd! … but Sam makes a wonderful father … he's become a new man in the past year … and I've helped him … he asks me about everything … I have a genuine respect for him now … I can give myself without repulsion … I am making him happy … I've written his mother I'm making him happy … I was proud to be able to write her that … how queerly things work out! … all for the best … and I don't feel wicked … I feel good …
(She smiles strangely.)
MARSDEN--(thinking)
What a change! … the last time I was here the air was poisoned … Darrell … I was sure he was her lover … but I was in a morbid state … why did Darrell run away? … Nina could have got Sam to divorce her if she really loved Darrell … then it's evident she couldn't have loved him … and she was going to have Sam's baby … Darrell's love must have seemed like treachery … so she sent him away … that must be it …
(with satisfaction)
Yes, I've got it straight now… .
(with contemptuous pity)
Poor Darrell … I have no use for him but I did pity him when I ran across him in Munich … he was going the pace … looked desperate …
(then gloomily)
My running away was about as successful as his … as if one could leave one's memory behind! … I couldn't forget Mother … she haunted me through every city of Europe …
(then irritatedly)
I must get back to work! … not a line written in over a year! … my public will be forgetting me! … a plot came to me yesterday … my mind is coming around again … I am beginning to forget, thank God! …
(then remorsefully)
No, I don't want to forget you, Mother! … but let me remember … without pain! …
EVANS--(turning over a page of his paper) There's going to be the biggest boom before long this country has ever known, or I miss my guess, Nina.
NINA--(with great seriousness) Do you think so, Sammy?
EVANS--(decidedly) I'm dead sure of it.
NINA--(with a maternal pride and amusement)