Scorn of Women: A Play In Three Acts

by Jack London

MRS. EPPINGWELL

I cannot explain. You would not understand.

SITKA CHARLEY

(More anger.)

Me Sitka Charley. Me understand. What for you no like Freda?

(Captain Eppingwell enters from right.)

MRS. EPPINGWELL

I—

(Catching sight of Capt. Eppingwell.) There is Captain Eppingwell now.

(Capt. Eppingwell brushes moccasins quickly, and goes immediately to Mrs. Eppingwell. Sitka Charley, still angry, joins group about stove.)