MARY: That’s why I say—it’s so marvelous! Marvelous, John! To think that you’re back without a wound, without a scar—without a single scratch. When I look at those other men—
JOHN [with abrupt passion]: When you look at those other men, yes! When you see the empty coat—sleeves dangling! When you see the eyeless sockets, the wooden legs, the crutches, the scarred, ruined faces! Yes! You think it is terrible, terrible! But when you look at me you clasp your hands and you say—how marvelous, how marvelous! He’s back without a scratch! [Goes over to the window and flings it up.] There should be some kind of an X-ray, Mary, that looks into the minds of men and sees the things there that don’t show on their faces and bodies. Some kind of a powerful light that would expose the horrible, unspeakable wounds and scars that men have on the insides of their brains! [Clutching his head.] The thoughts that they have at night when they can’t sleep. The recollections, Mary! The voices that they hear crying out. The strange, inhuman voices. And the faces they see. The eyes of men with bayonets stuck in their bellies. Yes, that for instance. And the eyes of men strangling with gas. The sound of a young boy whimpering with half his face blown off! Yes—that for instance, Mary! I’ve seen those things, heard them—and dreamed about them afterwards. Dreamed and dreamed. Now I’m tired of dreaming, Mary. Take me into a dark room and put me to sleep, Mary. But don’t let me dream anymore!
MARY [shocked almost speechless]: John—John—I didn’t know. . . .
[The lights are extinguished.]
PART II
[Ten years later. A much more luxurious apartment. the height of the post-war prosperity. Mary and John are discovered in living room. Children’s playthings on floor. John smoking cigar and restlessly pacing floor. Mary listening to radio.]
JOHN: Cut that damned thing off!
MARY [frowning]: No, I won’t! I’m listening to it!
JOHN: Cut it off, I say! [He dashes over to radio and turns it off.] I can’t stand it, Mary. It gets on my nerves! God, I wish something would happen. I’m tired of waiting, waiting!
MARY [astonished]: John! What’s the matter?
JOHN: Oh, that Hogan mob! They’re trying to pin something on me! Think I squealed, see? Me, a squealer! I’ve always played this game straight! But by God if they want dirty work . . .
MARY: John! The children. . . . [She lifts finger to her lips.] Oh, I can’t understand why you don’t get out of it, John. If I’d ever dreamed you’d get into a racket like this—a dishonest, dirty, ugly . . .
JOHN: Shut up! It makes you a living, don’t it? Look at this! The cream of everything! That’s what I’ve got you living on, Mary, the cream! What other girls you used to run around with are living like this? Most expensive apartment in this end of town! Your own car, your own account at the bank! And trips to Florida and California! Fur coats and diamonds! Yeah, and swell schools for the kiddies! You got everything, Mary!