" TARNISH "
A Drama in Three Acts
By Gilbert Emery
THE season was practically two months old when Gil- bert Emery's " Tarnish " was produced at the Belmont Theater, October 1, 1923. But there had been no striking success scored with the dramas presented ahead of it. It was therefore the more gratefully received by the profes- sional and semi-professional section of the playgoing public that hungers for a hit to talk about through the early season.
" Tarnish " is another of those serious dramas of American family life and problems that serve well to distinguish the American theater. It achieves theatrical effectiveness without sacrifice of those fundamental truths of character lacking which the best of drama is but extravagant fiction told in dialogue.
It begins in the living room of the Tevis flat in West One Hundred and Eighty-Ninth Street, New York. It is New Year's Eve. The Tevises include Josephine Lee Tevis, the mother, born a Lee and eager her world should know it; Adolph Tevis, the father, a somewhat spineless gadabout, and Letitia Lee Tevis, the daughter, at once the strength and the hope of the family.
" The room itself is typical of its kind, cheaply made and cheaply decorated," writes Mr. Emery. "The paper on the walls is quiet in tone, but the electric light fixtures — a central chandelier and side brackets — are of a com- mon and vulgar pattern. This commonplace room gives evidence of being inhabited by people of good taste — for such, indeed, are the Tevises. Ihe pieces of furni-
263
264 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
ture, shabby and worn, still bear the stamp of refinement and former prosperity."
At the moment Mrs. Tevis is having tea. She is " a lady of some fifty-five years, very worn and thin and faded, yet with evidences still which suggest rather tragi- cally— or perhaps humorously — what she was: 'The beautiful Josephine Lee.' Her expression is fretful, dis- satisfied, complaining, rather haughty; her face has deep lines of disappointment, disillusion, illness, combined with a kind of long-suffering triumphant virtue. For long ago she made up her mind, whatever happened, to be the impeccable wife and mother. Mrs. Tevis is at all events a lady, born and bred to the conventions of a good old New York society, and still clinging tenaciously to them. She is simply dressed in black."
Later Mrs. Tevis is joined, to her apparent but politely guarded disgust, by her upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Stutts. " Mrs. Stutts's attitude is that of the lesser to the greater, try as she will to maintain an equality and to remember that she ' is just as good as anybody else.' She is, alas! past forty, inclined to plumpness; considerably 'made up'; showily dressed in the extravagance of the latest mode; and with painfully 'elegant' manners. A com- mon, vulgar, good-natured creature."
It is Mrs. Stutts's first call, and she has quite obviously accepted the New Year holiday as a fitting excuse to sat- isfy her neighborly curiosity. She is observing and full of gossip. She has had the " Lee family story " from the society columns, she has met Mr. Tevis in the elevator and the halls and knows him for the sort who would, as her husband says, appreciate a nice bottle of port wine for New Year's, and she has set Letitia down as being rather reserved and retiring.
Being a " bootlegger's bride," as the charge goes, Mrs. Stutts may be classed with the social liberals. She sees what she sees and knows what she knows, and from these observations evolves her own philosophy of life. Just
TARNISH 265
now she is considerably exercised over the things she has seen that afternoon.
Mrs. Stutts — ... Well, I lunched with some lady friends at the Palace Hotel, and afterwards they would sit around in Peacock Alley 
Mrs. Tevis — In what?
Mrs. Stutts — Peacock Alley! Did you ever? Of course I think it's just too common for words, but you do see some of the — Well! I think it's awful, the way those women carry on. Girls that one day haven't got more than one pair of — well, you know — to their names and the next you see 'em in sables. As I tell Ed — there's two ways to get a fur coat, and one of 'em is to buy it. But Ed says some women are just like fruit cake; the more you keep 'em, the better they are.
Mrs. Tevis — (shuddering). Mrs. Stutts — Really!
Mrs. Stutts — {in full swing). Why, if you'll believe me, there's that manicure of mine who — well, how that girl manages to 
Mrs. Tkvis — {passing the gingerbread in an attempt to divert her) . Did you have a pleasant Christmas, Mrs. Stutts?
Mrs. Stutts — (taking more gingerbread). Lovely — just lovely! As I was saying, that manicure of mine — would you believe me if I told you she calls herself Ant'n'ette LeeNawr? French it is — for dark. Ay-ugh! And her name is Nettie Dark. Can you beat it ?
Mrs. Tevis — {still trying to stem the tide). I don't know what the world is coming to ! Let me give you some tea, Mrs. Stutts.
Mrs. Stutts — No, thank you ! That cup was lovely. Kinda saving up for my cocktail when Ed comes. Well, she's a fast one, that Dark girl is 
Mrs. Healey, " a kindly, shrewd old Irish woman who rather reluctantly consents to give a few hours of her time daily to the heavier tasks of the Tevis household," is in to take the tea things. Also to save some of the ginger- bread she has served for her favorite of the family, " Tishy," the daughter, and to observe that inasmuch as she is to be home for the New Year's holidays she would like her pay before she goes.
The request greatly embarrasses Mrs. Tevis. She has no money. Letitia runs the family budget, and Letitia is not at home. So Mrs. Healey is forced to depart with a promise that is not altogether satisfying to her.
A few moments later Letitia appears. " She is a very pretty girl, quietly and simply dressed, of some twenty- two or twenty-three years of age. Notwithstanding her great good looks she has an air of self-reliance, cap- ability, youthful dignity — for she bears a heavy burden of responsibility. She is the moving force of the family, the one on whom the others rely. Since childhood she
266 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
has had to face unpleasant facts, deal with unpleasant situations, adjust unpleasant conditions. Her natural buoyancy and keen sense of humor have kept her from any settled bitterness and pessimism; and a fastidious taste has kept her so far from absorbing any of the com- monness of the workers' life she is a part of. She presents the figure of a charming, straightforward, clean- minded, cultured girl, yet one who is neither ignorant of, nor afraid of, nor a falsifier of the phases of human nature she comes in contact with."
Tishy, as she is called, is accompanied by a young man. His name is Emmet Carr. " He is a young man with plenty of charm and physical attractiveness; and he is intelligent, ambitious, proud — the pride which often results from a feeling of being inferior socially to those about one and the assurance that one is worth as much as the next person. He has two pretty distinct sides — a common one and a fine, delicate one, the latter evoked by Tishy. His lack of sureness in the Tevis milieu gives him a rather taking shyness at times. He is some twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old — quietly dressed in a business suit."
They have evidently been romping a bit on their way home from the office in which they are both employed. And though it is plain to Carr that he is not particularly popular with Mrs. Tevis, his happiness at being with Tishy is of so much greater importance he is barely con- scious of that fact.
Now Mrs. Stutts has taken her delayed departure, after adding further to the Tevis family unrest by reporting having seen Mr. Tevis " with a certain little lady " she could name but won't. Mrs. Tevis has retired to her room, after vainly signalling to Tishy to get rid of Carr. And Carr and Tishy are hanging up a couple of New Year wreaths they have brought home with them.
Carr — {facing Tishy with a droll little smile) . You know, sometimes I almost think your mother doesn't quite like me.
TARNISH 267
TiSHY — {with affected solemnity) . Sometimes I almost think she doesn't.
Carr — (sincerely). I'm sorry — awfully sorry. (They smile ruefully.) She thinks I'm not your sort. Well, I guess I'm not.
TiSHY — (seriously). Eramet, you mustn't mind Mamma. Please don't. She's had a lot to lose — besides money. And she's not well, not at all well. Me, I don't like being poor a bit more than she does — I'm no early Christian.
Only I You see, I was only ten when the bottom fell out of our high
estate, and we fled to Europe and cheap pensions, and then fled back again
because the war made even that impossible. So now I Oh, don't let's
talk of it! (Taking the wreaths from him.) Where'Il we hang the rich, round wreaths ?
Cark — By George, you're a plucky girl !
TiSHY — I'm not. But what you've got to do, you've got to do. That's my little motto.
Carr — (smiling). And if it hurts ?
TiSHY — Then it hurts. What would be your feeling about one on each of these doors? Or would it be too Christmas-cardy ? (She stands with a wreath at arm's length before her, looking particularly charming.)
Carr — (his eyes on her adoringly). Beautiful! I think it's beautiful! Do you know something? I've never hung up a holiday wreath before in my life. Our family — we weren't the holiday kind. These — with you — they're my first. Funny, isn't it?
TiSHY — No, it isn't funny. It's rather — heartbreaking.
Carr — And I've never had a present from any one in my family — six of us there are. My mother — she prays a good deal, but she never remembers.
TiSHY — Oh!
Carr — So, when you gave me this — (touching a blue silk handkerchief in his breast pocket) — the other day — made it yourself — well!
TiSHY — (lightly). It's a shower and a blower both — that handkerchief. I couldn't let you go on — could I, leaving little bunches of flowers on my desk, day after day, without making a ladylike return for the delicate attention?
Carr — (with growing fervor). The first time I left a bunch of posies on your desk — do you remember? It was the day after I brought you those deeds to copy. And we talked — (a pause — their eyes meet). I talked and you answered.
TiSHY — (smiling reminiscently) . Yes. We — we talked.
Carr — I was afraid of you, a little. I am yet. I always will be.
TiSHY — '(pretending dismay). Emmet, you must be psycho-analyzed at once!
Carr — The nicest thing about you is that you're so nice, Tishy! When I saw you that first day in the office, I thought, "O Lord! If only I can get to know that girl! If she'll only condescend to look at me, once a week even! And if she'll say 'good morning,' well !"
Tishy — (smiling) . How absurd you are, Emmet.
Carr — You'd be absurd too if a -lady-angel suddenly up and said, " Hello " to you. It's a funny thing. You think you're set; that you'll just go on, plugging along in your that's-good-enough way; and then you break your shoe string, or lose a filling out of your tooth, or — a girl says, " good morning," and everything is changed — forever.
Tishy — Maybe it just seems changed.
Carr — No — changed — beautifully.
Tishy — I don't know. I don't think I have much faith — my life has been too quicksandy. Sometimes I feel a hundred years old.
Carr — (warmly). I tell you I know! About myself I know. Things are changed for me.
Tishy — I don't believe you can know. You think you're singing grand opera, sublimely, at the top of your lungs; and the next thing you know you're bawling some horrible hand organ tune. It's like that. It's all in the way you're made.
Carr — I don't believe that. I won't believe it. Once a man realizes the thing that's best inside him, he isn't going back to the worst of himself again. Not — not unless his heart breaks.
268 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
TiSHY — I'm not sure.
Carr — Some day you will be. I'll make you. Yes! Tishy, I can't tell you what you are to me. But I know — inside me I know. I knew the first day! I've always known there was you in the world. I knew — sort of blindly — dumbly. Something was always wrong at home. I felt it as a kid. Wrong with us. Only I didn't know what it was — how to get anything better. There's my kid brother — I'll tell you about him — only not tonight. I came down to Columbia — worked through the University — like a dog. It was like a dog. And I've dogged it through the Law School. And dogged it into Layton & Gray's. And all the time I'd do things that didn't seem so — so bad at the time. But afterwards I'd — be ashamed. Things 
Tishy — I know. Things. Yes, I know all about that.
Carr — You understand? Things — Oh, God, I don't know! Most men have them, I suppose.
Tishy — It's — it's a kind of — tarnish, isn't it?
Carr — Tarnish? You can clean tarnish, can't you? Perhaps, if I hadn't got to know you, I'd have gone on getting tarnished, and finally, at last, not minding, not knowing — only now — there's you. And that's the other side — the shiny side — that's in me somehow. And so — you see — well, there's you. Don't laugh.
Tishy — (deeply touched). Laugh? I'd sooner cry. Has it been all that? So much? Me, I mean?
Carr — All that?
Tishy — Now I'm a little afraid. But I'm — glad, Emmet.
He tells her then, his enthusiasm mounting, of his chances for investing his $1,000 savings on the advice of the member of the firm most interested in him, and of his better chances of being taken into the firm itself later as a junior partner. She is happy for him, and quotes him a motto for his guidance: "Good luck have thou with thine honor; ride on because of the word of truth; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things."
But she cannot rise to his enthusiasm over the firm member who has helped him. She has, as it happens, that day quit her job — for reasons she refuses to tell him. Tonight she would like to think she is " sort of happy." Another moment and they are laughing and singing again, " very youthfully and gayly."
Cabr — (radiant). Tishy — let's have a Happy New Year — together.
Tishy — (defensively). The drawback to that is, you must go — this minute. Table not even set. Allez! (Carr takes her in his arms and kisses her.) No, Emmet, no! (For an instant she lets herself go, her lips on his. Then she draws quietly away.) That much — that little much — I take for my New Year. To keep. To remember.
Carr — Tishy Tevis — I'm in love with you — head over heels — I can't see straight — I can't think. You're just like God to me — I want to worship you — I feel small and mean and big and tall all at the same time — I — I — I Are you in love with me? Are you?
Tishy — (with a smile). Oh — for a nickel — I could be.
TARNISH 269
Carr — You are! Oh, praise God, yon are!
TiSHY — I'm not going to be! No, wait! I could have stopped your saying — what you're just said. I 
Carr — You couldn't!
TiSHY — {trying to conceal her emotion) . Well, anyhow, I didn't. It just suddenly seemed to me that I — I — I couldn't go on unless someone 
Carr — Who ?
TiSHY — Well, you, then — said I was a nice girl. Tomorrow I'm going to be brave and bold again. Only tonight — (wiping away a little tear). Oh, Emmet, say I'm a nice girl again!
Carr — You're — you're — you're 
TiSHY — (quickly — smilingly). It's all right. You needn't go on. I just wanted to be sure. And tomorrow it's going to stop.
Carr — Tomorrow it begins!
TisHY — (firmly). Stops. The posies — the wreaths — you — everything.
Carr — Why do you say that?
TiSHY — Because there isn't any chance in the world for you and me. Because 
Carr — Go on.
TiSHY — My mother and — and my father — I've got them. And they've got me — that's all they have got. No, I can't leave here.
Carr — (quietly). I'm not asking that.
TiSHY — What are you asking?
Carr — I'm asking you to let me love you. I'm asking you to love me. All the rest is simple — after that.
TiSHY — Simple? Simple? I tell you it's impossible. Us — us on your shoulders? That's where we'd be. Oh, you don't know what you're talking about!
Carr — I know I want you — and I — Oh, Tishy, you do want me! Don't you?
Tishy — (trying to be resolute). An engagement between us — it would be absurd ! Something to drag out and grow soiled and faded and — and hopeless — as time goes on. It would kill me to see you get bored and tired and mechan- ical — to see you giving up your chances, your beautiful chances, because you are tied. Oh, there are relations in this world between men and women that don't tarnish — I'm big enough to see that — splendid, true relations — when a man really gives himself — and a woman gives herself — (As he attempts to speak.) No, no! Please! It's just hopeless for us, you and me.
Mrs. Tevis — (from her room). Tishy — hasn't your father come in yet?
Tishy — No, not yet, dear.
Carr — And isn't it anything to you that I love you? (She is silent.) Isn't it?
Tishy — (feebly). The wreaths are pretty aren't they?
Carr — Answer me! Isn't it — isn't it?
Tishy — (in a scarcely audible voice). Ye-e-s (Carr puts his hands on
her temples and turning her face up to his looks adoringly, reverently, into her eyes.)
Carr — You*ve got me — and I — oh, I've got you! (Tishy releases herself; then drops with a sigh into his arms. After a pause.) I feel like the day I went to war. Tishy, all my life I'm going to love you and fight for you.
Again the querulous voice of Mrs. Tevis interrupts them, and with a half promise to meet him later Tishy hurries Emmet away.
Mrs. Tevis doesn't like Carr, and is emphatic in stating her objections. She has heard something from Mrs. Stutts of his rather common family. And the less they
270 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
have to do with people of that sort the better will she be pleased. Tishy's own father should serve as a warning to her when it comes to that type of man.
The paternal Tevis, it appears, is at the moment under suspicion. The major portion of the family income is $1,000 a year which comes from the estate of a deceased aunt. The half-yearly check for $500 came that morn- ing, and in a thoughtless moment Mrs. Tevis gave it to Mr. Tevis to have it cashed, that the accumulated bills might be paid. Mr. Tevis, departing gayly with the check, has not been heard from since.
Tishy is frankly upset by this news, and greatly dis- appointed in her mother. Mrs. Tevis should have known better, after experiences they have gone through with her father and knowing, as she does, what he does with whatever money he is able to get hold of. And the bills ! They are heavier than ever this time. Mrs. Tevis's last operation hasn't been paid for yet, nor the rent 
A moment later the discussed Tevis appears. " He is secretly much agitated but makes a very debonair effort to appear at his ease. Tevis is sixty-five years old, or thereabouts — unhealthily fat, white-haired, with signs of long self-indulgences; puffy eyes, flabby skin, etc. He still betrays the evidences of the dandyism of his younger days — the too bright tie, the flower in the buttonhole, the clothes carefully brushed, clothes much worn and of a somewhat antiquated fashion. His manners are florid, his gestures courtly. His indulgences have undermined him physically, leaving him weak, nervous and fatuous. He presents the painfully undignified figure of an old man who has squandered almost everything of value in his character and is still ridiculously at the mercy of his un- governable, senile, sexual desires."
Tevis — My Lambkin! (He enters with an affectation of sprightllness.) Give your venerable parent a kiss! {He kisses Tishy. Mrs. Tevis foUows.) Ah, ha! Wreaths! Wreaths! Makes our little love nest as cosy and bright as — as a little love nest. Eh, Mother?
Mrs. Tevis — {inflexibly). Adolph! Where have you been?
{Tishy takes his hat, slick, muffler and coat.)
TARNISH 271
Tevis — (sitting). Been? I? Oh, flane-ing. Here! There! Everywhere! Like a bird! Yes, like a bird! Like a bird!
TisiiY — Did you have a nice walk. Daddy?
Tevis — Delightful — delightful ! Alluring shops — festive scenes — bright faces — "eyes looked love to eyes that spake again" — Espieglerie! The New Year — always the New Year! Eh, mother?
{Mrs. Tevis sniffs.)
TiSHY — (disregarding the pantomime of Mrs. Tevis indicative of her con- viction that Tevis's gayety bodes no good.) Well, you seem to have caught the spirit of the occasion beautifully. Did you go far? Did you meet anyone you knew?
Tevis — Far? to the utmost ends of the earth! Meet anyone I knew? I met them all, knew them all, loved them all — the world, my brothers, my sisters.
Mrs. Tevis — Don't be a fool, Adolph! Did you go to the bank?
Tevis — The bank? Stately pile — floors of silver, doors of gold — what joys, what sorrows there! The Bank, ah!
Mrs. Tevis — Oh, mon Dieu! May I infer from your ridiculous conversation, that you did go to the bank?
Te\'is — (blandly) . Josephine — you may.
Mrs. Tevis — And you've got the money?
Tevis — Got it? (Slapping his pockets elaborately.) Oceans — barrels — oodles of it!
Mrs. Tevis — Thank God for that! Now give it to Tishy.
TiSHY — (good-naturedly going over to him). Come along. Daddy. Pro- duce the guilty gold. And I'll put it in the trusty dispatch box.
Tevis — Miseress !
Tishy — " Hands up ! The money or "
The fact is, Tevis has not got the money. He puts them off as long as he can, and then makes a bold show of searching his pockets for it. But it is not to be found. He has been robbed! He must have been robbed! There is no other explanation.
That explanation pleases him so well he begins to dramatize it. He remembers how it might have occurred. There was an accident — a taxi — a crushed child — a weeping mother. And while he was weeping over " that bruised little bk^dy " some miscreant had taken his money. What, oh, what, is he to do? Let him die! Let him go that he may throw himself into the river.
But Tishy is not to be fooled by this performance. After a little burst of tearful impatience with both her parents, during which she tries to make them realize the position they are in — with her own job gone — she takes her father in hand and, though she regards him '' contemptuously, despairingly, struggling with her im- pulse to rush away forever from such scenes as these,"
272 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
she speaks to him gently, which she knows is the only way to win him.
Step hy step she goes over with him his reported ex- periences of the day, and soon she has him so tangled in his own misstatements that she knows he is lying. Then she reminds him that he was seen that afternoon by Mrs. Stutts when he was walking with another woman, and she wants to know about that other woman.
TiSHT — {quietly). Father — you're lying! You've been lying all th« time.
Tevis — {in the last attempt). Tishy, if it were my dying word, I'd swear 
Tishy — Stop! Don't go on! It — it isn't any use. This isn't the first time. {Wearily, without much hope.) What have you done with it? Answer me! What have you done with it?
Tevis — I — Tishy, have pity on me. You don't know. You don't under- stand. You're — you're a young girl — you —
Tisht — {trying to master her repulsion) . Father — you've given it to somebody. Is that it? Is it?
Tevis — I — I — had to {Tishy gives a little cry.) I — Oh, I can't
talk to you about it! A man would understand, but you 
Tishy — You've given the money to — some woman — haven't you?
Tevis — Oh, Tevis — Tevis — why does God let you live?
Tishy— Who was it?
Tevis — Oh! What does it matter who it was now?
Tishy — It matters just this: you or I have got to try to get the money back — from her — the woman you were with today.
Tevis — {sincerely). You — my daughter ! Go to her? No! Not if
we starve, all of us — in the gutter!
Tishy — Then will you go?
Tevis — {whimpering). I don't know how she got it from me — Tishy, as God sees his poor little children, I didn't mean to give it all to her — only a few dollars to help a poor young girl. But, but 
Tishy — {in the last appeal). Father, will you go to her?
Tevis — Me? I — I — No! {His voice drops to a whisper.) I'm afraid of her — afraid 
Tishy — You must!
Tevis — I can't — I can't 
Tishy — Then I've got to go! Who is she? Where is she?
Tevis — {moaning). Tishy! Don't tell your mother — don't tell her 
Tishy — Who is she?
Tevis — I won't tell! I won't teil !
Tishy — {in desperation). I've got to get it — I've got to get it! Can't you understand? Oh, why don't you help me — help me? Tell me — teil me! Daddy! Why don't you help me?
Tevis — Too late — too late 
{One hears Mrs. Stutts again at " The Love Nest.")
Tishy — I've got to find out. I've got to find out — somehow {Looking
up.) Oh! That! {In anguish at the thought of further humiliation at Mrs. Stutt's hands.)
Tevis — {agonizedly; comprehending). My Baby! My Lamb! No! No!
Mrs. Tevis — {running from her room). What is it? Oh, God, what is it now? Tiihy! Where are you going?
Tishy — {at the door, with « hard little laugh) I? I'm going to call on the " bootlegger's bride."
The curtain falls
TARNISH 273
ACT II
A few hours later that evening Nettie Dark bustles into her dowdy apartment somewhere " in the Forties, near Sixth Avenue." As an apartment it consists of " a small sitting room opening out of what is a bed room, or, one might say, an alcove, since the larger part of the back wall has been cut to form an arch, thus making the rear room almost entirely visible. This arch is curtained with cretonne of a very vivid new art pattern. The walls of the sitting room and bed room are covered with a rather muddy-colored, brown-yellow-green paper, usually referred to as ' tapestry.' The furniture is meretricious, vulgar, cheap and of different varieties — in short, any- thing that has happened to take Miss Dark's lively fancy. Near the fireplace is a chaise longue on which is a red velvet cover. A plate of frosted cup cakes, two other plates, cigarettes in a holder, matches and ash tray, two large highball glasses, etc. The view one has of the bed room gives a sight of the bed set in the middle of the room, its head against the rear wall."
As Nettie enters " one perceives that, while not pretty, nor beautiful, she has the ' certain something ' which attracts — that is to say, attracts men. She is small, lithe, dark-haired, rather sallow of skin, but her eyes are brilliant and bold and expressive; and her face, a little dull and sullen in repose, lights up when she is in a good humor, with a curious youthful charm, heightened by a warm, sensuous smile. She looks what she is to men: companionable and dangerous. As she comes into the room, she is wearing a gray fur coat and a small bright turban. As soon as the packages are disposed of, she pulls off her hat and throws it into a chair. As she removes her coat she regards the much worn lining and whistles a single rueful note at its sorry state. Her dress is of plain black with a little white collar, and she has discarded all ornaments except one or two of the simplest, and a wrist watch. She goes to the table near
274 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
the fireplace, finds and lights a cigarette, then regards herself critically in the mirror, nodding disapproval at the effect.
Being New Year's Eve, Nettie would like to have a party. And it has occurred to her that if she can get hold of a certain old friend of hers she could organize one without much trouble. But she suspects if she were to call him herself he would not come. So she rings up her friend, Aggie, who lives in the apartment above her, and asks her to do the calling for her.
Nettie — Say, Ag — you want to do something for me?
Aggie — What — me ?
Nettie — Ay-ugh.
Aggie — What do you want me to do?
Nettie — {abruptly). Ag — telephone to Emmet Carr for me, will you?
Aggie — What — me ?
Nettie — Ay-ugh! Listen! I want to see him. I gotta. I want to see him tonight.
Aggie — But 
Nettie — I know. But he won't come for me. He won't. I phoned to him twice before I came in tonight, and he threw me down — cold. You phone him for me.
Aggie — But if he — Lord, what'll I say?
Nettie — Tell him — Oh, tell him I'm in trouble — awful — that I need help or something — and that I don't know you're telephoning, see? And that you knew he was my best friend — you know the kind of song-and-dance. Will you? I've helped you out before now. Will you?
Aggie's technique is a little crude and she stammers considerably over the phone, but she manages finally to convince Emmet that his old friend's condition is pre- carious and that the least he can do is to drop around and see her, if only for a minute.
"He'll come," she reports to Nettie; "he'll come — for a minute. He's going somewhere afterwards. God, I hate to lie like that."
Nor does Nettie's happy gratitude cheer her per- ceptibly. Fact is, Aggie is the one who is in serious trouble. Her man is sick upstairs — with pneumonia, she thinks — and the landlady has given them until Monday to raise the rent. She's just gotta make a touch somewhere. There ain't nothing else for her to do. She's gotta stick to her man.
TARNISH 275
"It's hell when you fall for 'em, isn't it?" Nettie sympathizes. " Especially when they don't fall back."
The problem of the loan is easily met, and when Aggie returns to her sick friend she carries with her one of Nettie's hundred dollar bills. The sight of so much money has nearly floored her, and she fears the worst. But Nettie reassures her.
" Oh, no, dearie! Don't think it! I didn't have to pay the ' awful price.' He's just a poor old boob that falls for the ' young-girl-in-trouble ' stuff if you cry a little and let him hold your hand under the table. He's mush now, but I guess he was some little Bluebeard in his day. Ain't it awful, though, to see these old birds lick their chops? Well, I borrowed some from him ' on account.' "
Nettie is happy fixing the room for Carr's reception, adding a final touch when she extracts a half bottle of gin from back of the fire screen to go with the glasses on the table. She also lights the incense that the atmos- phere may be properly seductive.
But when Emmet comes, mystified by the cheerfulness of her greeting and her feigned surprise at seeing him, he does not even notice the preparations in his honor and he hates the incense. Also, he would like to know exactly what help it is Nettie needs, as his time is somewhat pressing.
But Nettie is not for having this happy reunion so quickly spoiled. Her invitation to him to make himself comfortable is not only earnest but insistent, and before he knows it she has taken his coat and hat and tossed them on her bed and has him seated in the best of the rockers, smoking his favorite brand of cigarettes and still wondering why she has sent for him.
She is much more interested in learning what has happened to him the last several months, and what progress he is making at the ofiice. She has heard from his boss — rather a " rapid baby " with the girls, this
276 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
boss — that he (Carr) is doing beautifully. This is not unpleasing news to Emmet, but he is still insistent on finding out what it is she wants of him, and she con- tinues dissembling.
Nettie — . . . Well, old Sunshine, don't bite my head off! Gosh, it's nice to see you sitting there in Nettie's little old rocker! I — I've missed you, Metty.
Carr — (hastily) . Ay-ugh ? Aggie said over the phone you were up against it, Nettie. What's the difficulty?
Nettie — I'll tell you — in a minute. Oh, I've had an awful time! Honest, I never thought I'd 
Carr — (not unkindly) . Better spit it right out. I've got to be on my way, you know.
Nettie — (wistfully) . Where you going? To celebrate?
Garb — (casually). No. I've got an engagement.
Nettie — With the iceman, I suppose.
Carr — (smiling). Ay-ugh.
Nettie — (Ingratiatingly). 'Member last New Year's, Metty?
(Carr nods embarrassedly. Nettie puts her hand on his knee.)
Carr — (moving away) . Say, Nettie — shoot out anything you want to tell me, and if I can be of any help, why 
Nettie — Wasn't it fun? Out with the bunch raising Cain — and then coming home, by ourselves, just you and me, and — oh, we did have good times together, didn't we? Playing around? (Jumping to her feet.) Oh, my good Lord! What will you think of me? What? And me "the grand little homemaker," as you used to say. I've never offered you a drink!
Watch Little Sister while she (She runs to the table and begins to
prepare the drink.)
Carr — (emphatically). I don't want a drink, Nettie. I 
Nettie — Oh, my Lord! I never heard such a dog! Don't want a 
Carr — I don't! Don't fix it, not for me.
Nettie — Why, Emmet Carr! Do you stand there and say you won't have a drink with me, Nettie, on New Year's Eve? Pig!
Carr — (yielding). Honestly, I — oh, well, if 
Nettie — Oh, well, I guess so! Just as if I didn't know how a certain rising young lawyer didn't like his " Tom Collins." (As she works.) 'Member last year at this time when you looked at me with those old brown eyes of yours and said, " Net, by God, I'm going to make 'em sit up in that office!" Do you? (As she pours the gin, making a stiff drink, Carr inter- jects, " Easy there!")
Carr — (smiling). Did I? Damn cheek, eh?
Nettie — No! Gosh! I'm so proud of you — (Going to the bathroom.) I got a cold siphon in the bathroom. (Carr rises and consults his watch, moving uneasily to the fireplace.) Is she pretty?
Carr — Who ?
Nettie — The iceman !
Carr — (laughing in spite of himself), .That iceman sort of worries you, doesn't he?
Nettie — (making a face at him and adding the siphon-water to the glasses). Here you are, old dear! (As she gives the glasses.) You! Me! Us! To old times, Metty, God bless 'em! And a Happy New Year — to us both! (She clinks her glass on his.)
Carr — A Happy New Year! (His mind on Tishy.) A new year — a new year! (They drink.)
TARNISH 277
The drink revives a little of their old intimacy, but not much. Emmet is still on his guard. He sympathizes with Nettie and her loneliness, and is sorry to hear that she has been so discouragingly up against it the last few
months. If a loan will help But it is not money
that Nettie wants, seeing that she has just been lucky. " It's never been a question of money between us," she reminds him, " and it's never going to be — no, sir!'' Nettie's lonesome, that's all. She wants company.
Aggie calls again. She is distressed because her friend upstairs is seriously ill with the flu, or something, and she wants help. Nettie is reluctant to go back with her for fear she will lose Emmet while she is gone. Anyway, there's no hurry.
Nettie — (her arm on his shoulder). — Metty? Do you know I was soppy in love with you once? A year ago tonight? Right here in this little old room? Do you know that?
Carr — {in an attempt to laugh it off) . See here, Nettie, no bunk. What's the use of 
Nettie — I was.
Carr — (as kindly as possible). What happened between us, happened. That's all. I guess there wasn't much falling in love done — not on my part or on yours. You and I — well, I was a man and you were a girl — and — well, you know. There wasn't any special reason why we — I guess we were both a little lonely and — you were a good pal, Nettie. I don't want you to think I don't appreciate — but — oh, hang it! Things change. They've got to. It's nobody's fault — it's — w»ll — they change.
Nettie — They change all right. Only — oh, I'm a poor mutt, I am! But honest and true, Metty, there never was a fellow I ever met — and that's going some — that — that 
Carr — (more brusquely). Oh, get down to brass tacks, Nettie! What is it you want to talk to me about tonight? Anything?
Nettie — (abruptly). Met? Who's your new girl?
Carr — (irritatedly) . Look here ! Do you think I came here to be asked fool questions like that?
Nettie — O don't be so darned up-stage! You used to be able to take a joke, but now — Oh, gosh, look at the coffee-pot doing the Gilda Gray ! Gimme your handkerchief !— To lift it off with! Quick! It'll be hard-boiled! Gimme it! (She snatches the blue silk handkerchief Tishy has given him, from his pocket.)
Carr — (jumping to recover it). No — here — hold on — let go of that! If you burn 
Nettie — (seeing that he is really angry, throws the handkerchief back) . Aw, take your old wipe! (Carr replaces it solicitously.) I never did like blue anyway. I can do it with my little old skirt. (She lifts away the coffee-pot.) Pull out the plug, will you? Cosh, I see I gotta learn to make handkerchiefs if I want to get a beau.
Carh — (significantly). There's more you've got to learn to forget, Nettie. You'd better -begin right now.
Nettie — Oh! — (Starting to retort but thinking better of it.) You don't
278 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
say! — Gee, doesn't it smell grand? Still the same old coffee-hound you uae to be, are you?
Carr — Uhn — hmn.
Nettie — (at his arm). Say, Met, wasn't the coffee good last New Year's Eve? O Boy! And wasn't it good the next morning? I'll tell the world! Come on, let's have a cup now. Met. {She thrusts her arm in his affectionately. She sees their two reflections in the glass.) O Gee, don't we look cute in there together? Old Darling!
Emmet gently, but positively, disengages himself from her tightening embrace, and is again ready to leave her. But she begs so hard that he stay and have at least a cup of coffee — for the sake of old times and that other New Year's — that he again weakens. He makes another effort to get away when she discovers there is no cream. He will go to the store and — " And send it back by the boy" she finishes for him. He will not!
Aggie is in again, terrified at the goings on of her delirious friend and begging that some one come. Finally it is decided that Emmet will go upstairs and see if he can quiet the sick man while Nettie goes for the cream. But once Emmet is gone she changes her mind. Instead of wasting time buying cream she will use it to reset the stage.
Out goes the ceiling light, and on goes the phonograph. The next minute she has dashed into the bed room, thrown off her street clothes and put on an elaborate negligee, " calculated to display her charms to the utmost." She is barely dressed when the bell rings, and, hoping to startle Emmet with her adjusted loveliness, she throws open the door.
Letitia Tevis stands waiting on the other side.
" Well," demands Nettie, as soon as she can recover from her surprise and disappointment; " what is it? Income tax or birth control?"
Tishy is deadly serious and a little frightened. She has come in search of a Miss Le Noire, and she has not come as a client or as an agent. She has come because she knows her father was with Miss Le Noire at the Palace Hotel that afternoon.
TARNISH 279
Nettie — (insolently) . Well, what if I was at the Palace today ? What of it? Maybe I do know your father. I know Grant's Tomb and the Wool- worth Building and Jack Dempsey — but what of it? What of it?
TiSHY — (coldly). It is just that — that's the reason for my coming here.
Nettie — (rising and looking at her ivatcli) . Well, you'll have to excuse me, I'm afraid 
TiSHY — I am afraid you will have to listen. (Nettie sits.) Miss Le Noire, I have to earn my living — I am, or was till recently, in Layton & Gray's law office 
Nettie — (with a swift look). 0-o-oh! Were you?
TiSHY — My people lost their money — some time ago — when I was a child. I have a father and a mother who are dependent on me, who are old, in ill health, unable to keep themselves; our circumstances are straitened, very; we have only what I can earn — and just now I am out of employment — only what I earn and a very small amount of money yearly, left us by an aunt — I'm sorry to bore you with all this, but I have to tell it in order to make things quite clear to you why 
Nettie — Layton & Gray's, you say ? Do you know a fellow down there named Carr?
TiSHY — Yes. In order to make it quite clear to you 
Nettie — He's a great friend of mine — a great friend.
TiSHY — Please ! I have to count every penny — every penny — I want you to believe this. Today we received a part of our little money, the half of it — five hundred dollars. My father cashed the check at the bank — and he 
Nettie — (rising). Excuse me. Miss Tevis, but I gotta tell you my friend will be here any minute — and if you're getting round to borrow money of me, as you seem to be, I might as well tell you now that I am not in a position to 
TiSHY — (flushing). Oh! How can you speak like that?
Nettie — I'm sorry you're up against it, as you say you are — but I don't see why you should come down here to my fiat and spill it all over me. It's not my notion of a pleasant New Year's Eve.
TiSHY — No, nor mine.
Nettie — Well ?
TiSHY — Miss Le Noire — the money my father cashed today he gave to you. I know that.
Nettie — What do you mean — gave it to me?
TisHY — He gave it you. I don't know why — I don't want to know why. He is an old man, a very broken, unfortunate, old man — and — and not • — not quite responsible very often — for what he does — not quite — 0 you must have seen that! Miss Le Noire, I am going to ask you — for my mother's sake, for my father's sake — not for mine — to keep them from actual want, I ask you to — to give me back the money my — my father gave you this afternoon.
Nettie — I don't care if you're asking it for the Lord on High! You can't come here and insult me right in my own house. I want you to get out of here. I want you to get out of this room!
TiSHY — I'm not going to leave here, until I have that money 
Nettie — We'll see abou 
TiSHY — I'm not insulting you — I'm not accusing you of — of anything. All I am doing is to try to show you, to make you feel how — how — Miss Le Noire, you must give that money back. You must!
Nettie — (lashing herself to a rage). I don't know how you dare say such things! I don't know how you dare! You! Who are you, anyway? What do I know about you, or your sob-story? Just because you pretend to be a lady I suppose that's what you do! — with a ga-ga old father, "not quite responsible"— he's rotten! (Tishy interrupts with: ''Stop, Miss Le Noire!") Ill say he's rotten! — and because a nasty, bleach-haired, gossiping old boot- legger s Aep£ woman comes to you and tells you she happened to see me say Hello" to your lovely father, you come crashing down here to me — me — a girl who works a darned sight harder than you do to get along — to me, who's just as good as you are, yes, just as good — and accuse me of stealing — sure, lijat 8 what it amounts lo ! Me! Beo
:ausc yoti think I'm not in your class.
280 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
That's why you try it on! XTell, Miss Tevis, let me tell you one thing, and let me tell you straight, I can sue you — sue yon for defamation of character. You better be snre next time you and your father get into trouble that you know who it is you're trying to hang your dirty work on to! — You get out of here! TiSHT — (angrily). Oh! How dare you speak to me like that? How dare yon? I won't leave this room I tell you — not till you give me that money!
The outer door swings open and Emmet bursts cheer- fully through, calling to Nettie. " Hello, darling," she calls back, without taking her eyes off Tishy, who stands as if she were turned to stone.
" There's nothing the matter w^ith that fellow," reports Emmet from the hall. " He only wanted a drink. Did you get your old cream?"
He comes gayly into the room but stops stock still, the words faltering on his lips, as he sees Tishy. She is motionless, expressionless. Nettie looks from one to the other, uncertain of what will happen. The pause is long and tense. At last, as he suddenly realizes the position in which he appears.
"Oh, my God!" he mutters. The keys he holds fall unheeded from his hand. " Tishy — what — what are you doing here?"
She is like ice. "I — I need hardly ask that of you," she answers.
" Is there any reason why he shouldn't be here, I'd like to know?" demands Nettie. " He's a very old and very dear friend of mine, Emmet is. Aren't you, Emmet? He's having a little supper here with me — that's what he's doing here."
Excitedly Emmet denies tlie statement. Let Tishy be- lieve nothing she hears, and let him explain what she has seen.
But Tishy is of no mind to listen to anything as com- mon as an explanation. What she has seen and heard is enough.
Tisuy — (in cold tcorn). What does it matter to me where you go? You hare a perfect right, haven't you, to — choose your — your diversions? I don't know why you feel that what you call explanations are necessary. I don't aak — I don't want them.
CxaB — But you — my being here 
Tishy — Isn't it enough that you ve here 
TARNISH 281
Nettib — Ay-ugh — tell her! Tell her you're a good boy. She'll believe you
— I don't think!
Cahr — {to Nettie). For God's sake, keep quiet! {Going to Tishy and putting his hand on her mrm. With all his heart.) Come away, Tishy — come away with me 
Tishy — Don't touch me! Don't dare to touch me!
Carr — {very humbly). I won't — I won't, Tishy — but, oh, if you've got any pity, — any — Why it's only common justice to hear me — you wouldn't treat me like that — you mustn't — Tishy — it isn't like you — it isn't like you! Tishy, won't you come away from here? {He takes a step toward the door, his eyes on her pleadingly.)
Nettie — {running up to the door and intercepting him). She ain't going
— not yet she ain't going — not till I tell her, she ain't! {To Tishy.) Listen
— listen to me! — I'm going to tell you! He and I used to be lovers 
Carr — Tishy — for God's sake — come away !
Nettie — Lovers — and he came here tonight again — and he got caught — by his girl — and now he's trying to short-skate out of it — that's the kind of fellow he is! Judas! Judas! That's what he is!
Carr — Tishy — you won't believe that — you can't believe that — you 
Nettie — {sobbing). Judas — Judas Carr.!
Carr — Tishy, listen to me — listen to me! She's lying — she's lying, I tell you she's lying! — 0 won't you come away from here?
Tishy — Oh, stop — stop !
Carr — It's horrible — horrible — everything I say — everything I do — here! It's all against me — but if you'll only come away with me — somewhere — anywhere 
Nettie — Four-flusher !
Carr — {barring Tishy' s way — wildly, at the door) . No — you're not going
— not yet. {To Nettie.) You've done this! You've done this! By God, you're going to pay for it, too! You planned all this. That's why you got me here, you and your Aggie! That's why you — {To Tishy.) That's it, isn't it? Why you're here? What you're doing here? {To Nettie.) How'd you get her here? She wouldn't come here herself — she wouldn't come here to you! You planned it somehow — God knows how ! You lied to her, too — you 
Nettie — I didn't — I didn't — I didn't — I 
Carr — You did! Do you think she — she'd be here otherwise? She — in your filthy, slimy 
Tishy — Oh, stop! Oh, stop! Oh, please stop!
Nettie — {terrified) . Metty — my God — listen ! I never got her here — I never got her here — I never got her here — I've never seen her before 
Carr — That's a lie!
Nettie — I didn't — I didn't — (Jo Tishy.) You! You're his girl! You — you! Tell him! Tell him!
Tishy — She — she's right.
Nettie — There !
Tishy — I — I came here of my own free will.
Carr — Came — here? What for, then — what for? {Tishy looks straight at Nettie in silence.) What for?
Tishy — It — it doesn't matter now what for.
Carr — {taking her arm). Tell me what you're here for?
Tishy — Let me go! How dare you question me — you? How dare you? Ask her! Ask your friend! Ask that woman why I'm here. She'll tell you. Then you'll know. That's the only part of the whole beautiful story you've missed. Ask her! {She pushes past him hysterically and goes out.)
" The outer door slams. Carr turns to Nettie, who stands with her hands on her hips, looking at him insolently, trying to hide her apprehension." Nettie — "Well, she's gone — your girl's gone. Ain't she?"
282 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
" With an affectation of indifference she goes to the victrola and starts, *Yes! We Have No Bananas'."
Nettie — Well — she's gone. What are you going to do now?
Carr — (in. a low voice — approaching her slowly, his fists clenched). I
— I — don't — know — but — but I think — I'm going to kill you — {Nettie backs away in terror as he advances.) I think — I'm going to kill you 
Nettie — (in a little fearful voice). No, Metty — No, Metty — I — I didn't mean to — I 
" Carr makes a sudden movement forward and seizes her. With her head in both hands he pushes her slowly against the wall."
Carr — (about to choke her). You beast — you little beast — you dirty little beast — (For a long moment he holds her there. Nettie is hypnotized by her fear. Suddenly he lets her go — pushes her away — and begins to laugh.) 0 my God! O my God! O my God! — " Good luck — have thou — with thine honor!"
— O Christ! Stop that music!
"All at once he breaks down and drops by the table; buries his head among the remains of the supper and sobs his heart out. Nettie stares at him in distress, amazement, pity." Nettie — [weakly). "This is a hell of a New Year's party, this is."
The curtain falls.
ACT HI
It is nearing midnight. The scene is again the Tevis living room, in darkness. Through the windows inter- mittent sounds of the street celebrations are heard.
Tishy is just back from her visit to Nettie Dark's apartment. She " is in a state of moral, mental and physical collapse. The hopelessness of extricating the family from the desperate situation they find themselves in, coupled with her discovery of Carr at Nettie's gives a grim face to the New Year just breaking."
I'hoto hji Richird liurlcc, X.V.
"TARNISH"
Nettie: Metty — 'my God — listen! I /(cvr/- got Ium- here — I never got lier here — I've never seen her hefore. (Uirr: That's a he!
(Fjinia Marinoti', Tom Powers and Ami llarchiif^)
TARNISH 283
Mrs. Tevis has awakened, her senses still a little numbed by the sleeping powder Tishy has given her. There is a moaning in the kitchen. It is Mr. Tevis threat- ening to cut his unworthy throat with a dull bread knife. These new problems divert Tishy's mind from her own troubles for the moment.
Finally she gets her mother back to bed, with another sleeping powder, and listens patiently to the whining defense of her unhappy father, and his slushy but measurably sincere regrets that she, his baby, was forced to do what she did for him, and to learn what she has learned of his life.
Tevis — (groaning). Oh, oh! (Clinging to her dress.) Tishy — My Baby — I didn't mean to do it — I didn't mean to 
Tishy — (in a revulsion of disgust) . Father — Don't — don't 
Tevis — Don't tell her — don't tell your mother — You haven't told her, have you? You won't tell her, will you?
Tishy — No — No — I won't tell her,
Tevis — You've been good to me — always — but she — I've always been afraid of her — I wasn't her sort — Oh, I loved her once — she was so beautiful and beyond me — like a star — and afterwards, beyond, always beyond! God, how they treated me, her lot ! What's a man to do, married to the Social Regis- ter? When I — I made up my little mistakes, my little peccadillos, what was she? She was a glacier — she was the Mer de Glace, that woman! Oh, why didn't she let me go — let me go ?
Tishy — (goaded to retort). Why didn't you go? Why didn't you go? You stayed, didn't you? Even after you stopped loving her, you stayed. You were a coward, weren't you? You've always been a coward. Tonight with your talk of suicide — Oh! — Yes, I went to her — I went there — and while I was there — I — I found out that the man who had told me only today he loved me — • that he and the woman you were with this afternoon, had been — Oh! — Ever since I was a child I've had the shame of something dreadful around me. Sci.ndals with — women, talked of and whispered about, before me, by the servants. Then, the money gone, the house gone, friends gone — gone. And those ghastly, ghastly years — wandering penniless about Europe — with terrible declasses, men and women — Oh, you know what our life was there — yours was! Perhaps I don't understand. Perhaps there's something wrong with me. Everything I touch seems pitch. Oh, isn't there anything clean, anywhere?
Girls, girls like me, who try to live decently, to — to Aren't there men who
try to live that way, too? Perhaps it's the way you're born — perhaps you can't help it, being decent or being rotten. I don't know. All I know is that I'm sick — sick — sick — of this horrible life I'm living! (Tevis bursts into tears again.) Oh, don't cry — It's too late for that.
Tevis — Tishy — don't hate me — don't hate me — don't hate me 
Tishy — (miserably). Hate you? Oh, Daddy, would that help any? I've borne things and borne things and borne things, but (falteringly) but I can't bear much more — I don't — know — what — I'm going — to do !
Tishy goes to her own room and Tevis, still a little maudlin but genuinely affected by Tishy's reproaches,
284 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
prays that the Lord look down and pity him; that he may be washed and made whiter than snow. The tolling of the bells announcing the New Year gave him quick hope that his prayer may be answered.
There is a ring at the doorbell. Then another. Hesi- tantly Tevis goes to the door to be confronted by Emmet Carr holding Nettie Dark firmly by the arm. Now he half drags her into the room. Nettie is thoroughly angry, but she realizes that Carr is in no mood to be trifled with and has defiantly submitted to his demand that she shall come with him and explain to Tishy the real reason for his having been in her rooms that afternoon.
Tevis is anxious to get them out before either his wife or Tishy hears them, but Emmet will not budge. He must see Tishy. Mrs. Stutts, arriving with a bottle of port wine, tied with a large bow of red ribbon, as her intended contribution to Mr. Tevis's New Year's, complicates matters and adds to the confusion. Nettie recognizes Mrs. Stutts as an enemy wuth a loose tongue who has talked too much. Which brings a countering charge from " the bootlegger's female mate," and the exchange of compliments reveals to Emmet the details of how Tishy knew about Nettie and her father, and how she happened to be in Nettie's rooms. It also forces an admission from Nettie that she had taken her aging admirer's money.
Nettie — (blazing). O God, I'm sick of this! What right have you got, all of you, sticking your noses in my business? lil tell you — yes, I'll tell you! This old baboon — he's been hanging 'round me every chance he got — the dirty old thing! And I was hard up — I been hard up — just because I was trying to keep straight 
Mrs. Stutts — Ha !
Nettib — O I was! Do you think I'd let that Old Cream-Puff touch me? And he came 'round today — with his pockets full of it — and I hadn't a cent and it was New Year's {choking back a sob) and — Why shouldn't I take it? U by shouldn't any girl take what she can get from rotten old things like him? 'Tisn't us. It's him and hit kind that makes all the trouble 1
Tishy finds them thus when she comes, trembling with anger, to demand a last explanation of Carr. He has come, he tells her, and brought the unwilling Nettie, that
TARNISH 285
she (Tishy) may hear the truth of all that has happened, insofar as he has been concerned with it. Nor will he listen to her orders that he leave.
Tishy — (her eyes flashing). Will you leave this room?
Carr — {earnestly) . Whatever you may feel about it aftervrards, Tishy, there's one thing you've got to hear — not maybe for you, but for me. I know how you feel about that business down there tonight — and I know how / feel about it. I've brought her here — I made her come 
Nettik — You near killed me, you big brute!
Carr — And she's going to tell you she li«d to you — about why I was there — that I wasn't having supper with her, that I haven't seen her in months, that it was all a put-up job. That's why I brought her. (To Nettie.) You lied about me, didn't you? Tell her!
TiSHT — What does it matter — whether she lied or not — what diflference does it make?
Carr — It matters the whole world to me. Doesn't it matter anything to you?
Nettie — {feeling somehow that she is mistress of the situation). You poor fool! You poor fool! She knows I lied. She knew it all the while. Do you think that's what's the matter with her? Not it! She's sore — sore because you ain't a virgin, or whatever you call it. She's sore because you traveled around with me — me! Oh, if it had been one of her kind — that you'd had an " affair " with, it would have been different. But I'm spotty — and you're spotty — because you liked me once. That's the kind she is. And you want to know what else she is? Well, she's jealous. Ay-ugh! That's what it is — just plain jealous! Sure, I lied! Why shouldn't I? I was in love with you. I wanted you. And who wins? Me? No! You? No! 'Cause she won't take you back. Her? No — 'cause she don't know enough to keep you. And so every- body has a happy New Year's. I didn't come up here to cry and tell her I lied — not if you did about twist my arm off. I come up to see what she'd do when she saw us and heard your spiel — Well, I've seen. (Turning to Tishy.) And let me tell you a thing: you don't know much. No, you don't! Not as much as I do. And I got to tell you this, too: if I was in your shoes tonight, and he wanted me, I wouldn't care what he'd done or what he was, I'd — (With a laugh to hide her emotion.) I'd count my lucky stars, all of 'em! And that's all you'll ever get out of me! Good night!
Now Nettie has gone, the slamming door a last evi- dence of her anger and disgust. Carr and Tishy have stood in silence during the girl's outburst. Now he turns toward her. His thoughts are all for her. " His heart is full of pity and love and distress for what has happened. What he wants now is forgiveness, to begin again, to take her in his arms, unworthy as they are."
Tishy drops into a chair and he moves over beside her. " Tishy, I love you," he says, pleadingly. She does not answer. " Nobody'll ever love you like me, Tishy." Still she does not answer. He hurries on. " Won't you take me back, Tishy? You can't go back on me, Tishy — you can't ! It's been, why, it's been
286 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
heaven. You wouldn't shut me out now. Today after I left you, I didn't know what I was doing or saying — I just knew I'd gone to Heaven. I talked to myself in the streets and gave away all my money and it was summer and everything was singing : ' Tishy — Tishy !
Tishy!' But now, if I lose you — if I lose you 
(No answer.) Tishy — every man — when he meets his girl — he wants to come to her — white — only he
can't — it breaks his heart, maybe, but he can't 
(No answer.) A man doesn't live very straight, I guess, unless he's got some one to live straight for — Tishy — ever since that first day — when you said, ' good morn- ing ' — I've been trying to scrub and polish and wipe out — and then tonight — happened. Tishy — won't you take me back? (No answer.) You've got to let me help you, Tishy. You've got to. This money I was going to give to Leighton — you've got to take it, dear. Tishy — you must — you must ! "
There is a gesture of refusal from Tishy, but she does not answer. "Tishy," he pleads, "do you love me?"
Her answer, after a long pause, is almost inaudible. But it is "Yes."
" Do you doubt my love? Do you? Tishy, if you doubt love you'll doubt everything."
" I doubt everything now."
" Do you know what a man is, Tishy? He's just what his love is. Just that."
"Just what his love is?" The words are forced out of her. " Just what his love is? Yes, just that. And what do I know, how can I know, what yours will be ten — five — two years, even, from now? What did my mother know of my father's? What does any woman know? All she can do is to throw herself blindly, piti- fully, into love — and take her chance, her little terrible chance — of keeping love somehow."
She is afraid. Afraid to trust her love to him. The men she has known — her father, the man she worked
TARNISH 287
for, and then Emmet — have offered little as examples.
The tones of her voice convey to Emmet the sense of his defeat. He is leaving. Not without a final plea, and not until he has insisted that she shall take the money he has saved to help her over the loss of the other. With a last despairing promise — "I — I'd make you so happy, dear — I'd try so hard to make you happy " He is at the door.
The New Year breaks " with all its gay, wild noises outside." Emmet pauses. " It's the New Year," he ventures, a little lamely. Still she does not answer. " Well — I'll — I'll — I don't blame you, dear — I — I Good bye."
Tishy lets him go, stifling her sobs as she turns toward the door. The wreaths they had hung earlier in the day catch her eye. She tears them down and hurls them through the window, crashing the window closed again to shut out the New Year celebration.
She is on the floor, her head buried in a chair, sobbing bitterly when old Mrs. Healey lets herself in. Mrs. Healey had seen the lights as she was passing and she had come to wish Miss Tishy a happy New Year and to ask her if she had found her gingerbread that morning. Gingerbread! At such a time! The incongruity throws Tishy into something like hysteria. She is laughing and crying, and reaching out for Mrs. Healey's sympathy.
Mrs. Healey — (going to her and taking her in motherly arms). Miss Tishy, love — don't darlin' — don't 
Tishy — (the tears come at last and she sobs her misery out on Lizzie Healey's breast). Lizzie — Lizzie Healey — I'm all alone — all alone 
Mrs. Healey — {half carrying her to a chair, where she sits and holds her). There — Miss Tishy, love, there — there, now 
Tishy — {as the clamor outside continues). O Lizzie — why don't they stop — why don't they stop? What are they glad for? What is anyone glad for?
Mrs. Healey — (patiently). 'Y God, Miss Tishy, love, they're glad because they're beginning again — and that there's something to begin. And they're glad because they can forget all the divilishness they've got into, and start all over. They don't know what's going to happen, and God help 'em, they don't want to. They're — hoping — that's all. (Tishy's sobbing becomes less violent now. The crisis is over, the storm has begun to cease.) Miss Tishy, love, there's a lad on the stairs out there — 'Y God, I think his poor little heart is breaking — (Tishy murmurs.) Darlin', I don't know what you said to him nor he to you, but if you love him, keep him, for there's nothing worth keeping
288 THE BEST PLAYS OF 1923-1924
in this world, but love — {IFith a large embrace, Mrs. Healey rises, leaving Tishy kneeling by the chair.) 'Y God, they're a poor lot, the men, all of 'em, and dirty, too — but the thing is, darlin', to get one that cleans easy.
" Mrs. Healey moves softly out of the room, leaving Tishy, whose tears now come healingly and gently. Carr appears presently at the door, all his love and his honesty of soul in his pleading eyes. Tishy smiles through her tears. Her decision is made. She and Carr will set out together on their journey of life — not because he ' cleans easy ' but because of the love for him in her heart that will not let him go; because she knows that the man of her choosing is clean. And so the play ends; the confusing, bewildering, torturing day is over; and this young man, this young woman, begin another, a truer experience."
THE END