DIANE: Of course he will.
MARY: Until then?
DIANE: You've got to keep going, keep looking.
MARY: Keep up with my exercises.
DIANE: Yes.
MARY: Keep up with my ballet lessons.
DIANE: Exactly.
MARY: Try and lose weight.
DIANE: Follow the book.
MARY: Brush my hair the right way.
DIANE: That's the spirit.
MARY: A hundred strokes.
DIANE: Good.
MARY: I've got to gain confidence.
DIANE: You will.
MARY: I can't give up.
DIANE: It's easier than you think.
MARY: Concentrate on my best points.
DIANE: Make the best of what you have.
MARY: Why not start now?
DIANE: Why not.
(MARY gathers herself together, checks
her posture in the mirror, crosses to the
record-player and switches it on. "The
Dance of the Sugar-plum Fairy." She
begins the ballet exercises she has learned,
perhaps, at the Y WCA, two evenings a
week. Between the final touches of her
toilet DIANE encourages her with nods of
approval. The dom·bell rings. Enter
HARRY in evening clothes, glittering although his expression is solemn, for he
has come on an important mission.)
HARRY: Hi girls. Don't mind me, Mary.
(MARY waves in the midst of a difficult
contortion.)
DIANE: Darling!
(DIANE sweeps into his arms, takes the
attitude of a dancing partner. HARRY,
with a trace of reluctance, consents to
lead her in a ballroom step across the
floor.)
HARRY: I've got something on my mind.
(DIANE squeezes his arm, disengages herself, crosses to MARY and whispers.)
DIANE: He's got something on his mind.
(DIANE and MARY embrace in the usual
squeaky conspiratorial manner with
which girls preface happy matrimonial
news. While MARY smiles benignly exeunt
HARRY and DIANE. MARY turns the machine louder, moves in front of the mirror, resumes the ballet exercises. She stops them from time to time to check
various parts of her anatomy in the mirror at close range, as if the effects of the
discipline might be already apparent.)
MARY: Goody.
(A long determined ring of the doorbell.
MARY stops, eyes bright with expectation.
Perhaps the miracle is about to unfold.
She smoothes her dress and hair, switches
off the machine, opens the door. THE
CoLLECTOR enters with lumbe-ring difficulty, looks around, takes control. The
power she radiates is somehow guaranteed by her grotesque form. Her body is
a huge damaged tank operating under
the intimate command of a brilliant field
warrior which is her mind: MARY waits,
appalled and intimidated.)
CoLLECTOR: I knew there was people in because I
heard music. (MARY cannot speak.) Some
people don't like to open the door. I'm
in charge of the whole block.
MARY (Recovering) : Are you collecting for something?
152 I
CoLLECTOR: The United Fund for the Obese, you
know, UFO. That includes The Obese
Catholic Drive, The Committee for Jewish Fat People, the Help the Blind Obese,
and the Universal Aid to the Obese. If
you make one donation you won't be
bothered again.
MARY: We've never been asked before.
CoLLECTOR: I know. But I have your card now. The
whole Fund has been reorganized.
MARY : It has?
CoLLECTOR: Oh yes. Actually it was my idea to have
the Obese themselves go out and canvass.
They were against it at first but I convinced them. It's the only fair way. Gives
the public an opportunity to see exactly
where their money goes. And I've managed to get the Spastic and Polio and
Cancer people to see the light. It's the
only fair way. We're all over the neighbourhood.
MARY: It's very-courageous.
CoLLECTOR: That's what my husband says.
MARY: Your husband!
CoLLECTOR: He'd prefer me to stay at home. Doesn't
believe in married girls working.
MARY: Have-have you been married long?
CoLLECTOR: Just short of a year. (Coyly.) You might
say we're still honeymooners.
MARY: Oh.
CoLLECTOR: Don't be embarrassed. One of the aims
of our organization is to help people like
me lead normal lives. Now what could
be more normal than marriage? Can you
I 153
think of anything more normal? Of
course you can't. It makes you feel less
isolated, part of the whole community.
Our people are getting married all the
time.
MARY: Of course, of course. (She is disintegrating.)
CoLLEcToR: I didn't think it would work out myself
at first. But John is so loving. He's
