NED. No, it isn’t the custom. Now, Loretta, will you marry me?
LORETTA. [Pouting demurely.] Don’t be angry with me, Ned. [He gathers her into his arms and kisses her. She partially frees herself, gasping.] I wish it were the custom, because now I’d have to marry you, Ned, wouldn’t I?
[NED and LORETTA kiss a second time and profoundly.]
[JACK HEMINGWAY chuckles.]
[NED and LORETTA, startled, but still in each other’s arms, look around. NED looks sillily at ALICE HEMINGWAY. LORETTA looks at JACK HEMINGWAY.]
LORETTA. I don’t care.
CURTAIN
THE BIRTH MARK
SKETCH BY JACK LONDON written for Robert and Julia Fitzsimmons
SCENE—One of the club rooms of the West Bay Athletic Club. Near centre front is a large table covered with newspapers and magazines. At left a punching-bag apparatus. At right, against wall, a desk, on which rests a desk-telephone. Door at rear toward left. On walls are framed pictures of pugilists, conspicuous among which is one of Robert Fitzsimmons. Appropriate furnishings, etc., such as foils, clubs, dumb-bells and trophies.
[Enter MAUD SYLVESTER.]