CLAIRE:  I do want calm.  But mine would have to be a calm I—­worked my way to.  A calm all prepared for me—­would stink.

ADELAIDE:  (less sympathetically) I know you have to be yourself, Claire.  But I don’t admit you have a right to hurt other people.

HARRY:  I think Claire and I had better take a nice long trip.

ADELAIDE:  Now why don’t you?

CLAIRE:  I am taking a trip.

ADELAIDE:  Well, Harry isn’t, and he’d like to go and wants you to go with him.  Go to Paris and get yourself some awfully good-looking clothes—­and have one grand fling at the gay world.  You really love that, Claire, and you’ve been awfully dull lately.  I think that’s the whole trouble.

HARRY:  I think so too.

ADELAIDE:  This sober business of growing plants—­

CLAIRE:  Not sober—­it’s mad.

ADELAIDE:  All the more reason for quitting it.

CLAIRE:  But madness that is the only chance for sanity.

ADELAIDE:  Come, come, now—­let’s not juggle words.

CLAIRE:  (springing up) How dare you say that to me, Adelaide.  You who are such a liar and thief and whore with words!

ADELAIDE:  (facing her, furious) How dare you—­

HARRY:  Of course not, Claire.  You have the most preposterous way of using words.

CLAIRE:  I respect words.

ADELAIDE:  Well, you’ll please respect me enough not to dare use certain words to me!

CLAIRE:  Yes, I do dare.  I’m tired of what you do—­you and all of you.  Life—­experience—­values—­calm—­sensitive words which raise their heads as indications.  And you pull them up—­to decorate your stagnant little minds—­and think that makes you—­And because you have pulled that word from the life that grew it you won’t let one who’s honest, and aware, and troubled, try to reach through to—­to what she doesn’t know is there, (she is moved, excited, as if a cruel thing has been done) Why did you come here?

ADELAIDE:  To try and help you.  But I begin to fear I can’t do it.  It’s pretty egotistical to claim that what so many people are, is wrong.

(CLAIRE, after looking intently at ADELAIDE, slowly, smiling a little, describes a circle.  With deftly used hands makes a quick vicious break in the circle which is there in the air.)

HARRY:  (going to her, taking her hands) It’s getting close to dinner-time.  You were thinking of something else, Claire, when I told you Charlie Emmons was coming to dinner to-night, (answering her look) Sure—­he is a neurologist, and I want him to see you.  I’m perfectly honest with you—­cards all on the table, you know that.  I’m hoping if you like him—­and he’s the best scout in the world, that he can help you. (talking hurriedly against the stillness which follows her look from him to ADELAIDE, where she sees between them an ‘understanding’ about her) Sure you need help, Claire.  Your nerves are a little on the blink—­from all you’ve been doing.  No use making a mystery of it—­or a tragedy.  Emmons is a cracker-jack, and naturally I want you to get a move on yourself and be happy again.