Scorn of Women: A Play In Three Acts

by Jack London

FLOSSIE

First came an Indian with six dogs. You know, the Indian with one eye.

(Mrs. Eppingwell and Capt. Eppingwell look at each other significantly. Vanderlip, after a moment's hesitancy, nods.)

Then came the second Indian with eight dogs.

(Mrs. Eppingwell looks inquiringly at Capt. Eppingwell, who shakes head, then each looks bepuzzlement at the other. Vanderlip, again hesitating, nods.)

And then came Sitka Charley with seven of the most magnificent dogs I ever saw. Oh, Floyd, they were just grand!

(Mrs. Eppingwell and Capt. Eppingwell look more bepuzzled than ever. Vanderlip looks across at Freda with comprehension, by his look as much as saying, "You are responsible for this." Freda smiles. Mrs. Eppingwell and Capt. Eppingwell observe the proceeding, and look at each other significantly.) We just flew along—like the wind!