June Moon

speak to you about something else. Fred Quickly. No, I don’t. Eileen But you do, dear. Fred I’ll ask you later. Hart Is anything the matter? Fred No, no! It wasn’t⁠—I just⁠— Hart Well, I’ll be in my office, if you want me. He leaves. Eileen Why didn’t you ask him when you had a chance? Fred Weakly. They’ve advanced me so much already. Eileen But sweetheart, you promised me. You said you’d ask him today. Fred I will after while. I got to find Paul now⁠—I got to go to work. Eileen Oh, don’t go to work yet. You never have any time for me. You don’t realize I want to be loved once in a while. Fred I held your hand in the taxi. Eileen Just think! Only three more days till we belong to each other. Isn’t it marvellous! Fred It’s four, ain’t it? Eileen Four till we sail. Only three till we get married. Fred I wished it wasn’t quite so soon. Eileen What? Fred I mean, on account of those two numbers. Eileen Don’t forget⁠—you’re to ask him for a thousand dollars advance on each of them. Fred But that’s too much! I’ve borrowed thirty-five hundred dollars off them already on “June Moon”⁠—maybe more than my royalties will amount to altogether. Eileen Don’t be ridiculous! That number will still be selling when you’re dead. Fred I won’t care so much then. Eileen Your children will. Fred is embarrassed. Don’t you want children, dear? Fred I don’t get along with them very good. Eileen You would with your own. Fred No. I figure I’d get along better with other people’s, because they’d go home once in a while. Eileen We needn’t think of that now. Let’s just think of you and me, all alone on that big boat. Fred We won’t be alone. The fella said it would be pretty near full. Eileen But we don’t have to see anybody. A bride and groom don’t generally go around much⁠—they’re supposed to be so awfully in love. Fred I’ll want to eat once in a while. Eileen They’ll serve us in our cabin. Fred It’ll be kind of close quarters. Maybe I could go in the dining-room and order you a meal sent up. Eileen And leave me all alone? I’d be scared to death. Fred It’s just as dangerous in the dining-room as the bedroom. If the ship sinks, pretty near all the rooms will be under water. Eileen Let’s not think about such things. Just think of the pleasant side. London and Paris⁠—I’m glad we’re going to Paris first, so I can get some clothes. Fred Clothes? What have you been buying? Eileen They’re all right for the ship, dear, but not the Riviera. Don’t you want to be proud of me⁠—the way I look? Fred But if you’re going to stay in your cabin all the time you won’t need nothing but a Mother Hubbard. Maxie comes back; Eileen automatically starts to go. Maxie Well! All ready for the big trip? Fred Pretty near. The boat sails Saturday. Maxie I don’t know what you want to go to Europe for. Eileen Bristling. Why not? Maxie Because he’s never been there. A songwriter never goes anywhere for the first time⁠—they’re always going back to places. Back to Indiana⁠—back, back to Baltimore. Eileen Annoyed. Fred, are you going to talk to Mr. Hart? Fred Yes, ma’am. Eileen Well, this would be a good time. She goes, in about medium dudgeon. Fred I’d like to be going back, back to Schenectady, but Eileen’s got her heart set on Europe. Maxie I hear it’s quite a place. Fred Yes, I guess so. I was kind of excited about it at first, but now I don’t know⁠—I don’t want to go so bad. I’m kind of tired, I guess⁠—the way we been going it lately. I’m kind of behind on my sleep. Maxie Appraisingly. But you’ve been having a lot of fun. All those night clubs. Fred I did at first⁠—dancing and everything⁠—but now my feet’s so sore I have to take a bath every day. You might as well take a whole bath as just your feet. And they ache so I can’t sleep in them. Gosh, I’m so tired all the time. I don’t have time to sleep, anyway. We shop till the stores is closed, and then we get dressed up for dinner and the evening. If I don’t get some rest soon I’ll have a nervous breakup. And everything costs so much. Eileen wants a taxi if she’s only going in the other room. Maxie This trip to Europe⁠—that’s going to be kind of expensive, too, ain’t it? Fred Yes. I always thought I’d save my money, if I ever got any. Maxie You picked out a thrifty girl, all right. Fred I kind of get thinking sometimes, maybe a man like I that’s just breaking in, maybe he shouldn’t get married so soon, especially a woman that’s got to have so many clothes. Sometimes I think it would be better if I hadn’t got engaged. Maxie Feeling his way. I read of a case once, in Michigan, where a man was engaged to a girl and didn’t marry her. Fred I didn’t read that. Have you got the clippings? Maxie No. But my memory’s pretty good. For instance, I remember a mighty nice little girl that was here to see you one time. I even remember her name⁠—Miss Baker. Fred Nervously. Maxie, you haven’t seen her or anything, have you? Maxie The picture of innocence. Me? No. Why? Fred Uneasily. I guess I shouldn’t be thinking of her at a time like this⁠— Maxie Are you? Fred I don’t know. Sometimes I⁠— Goldie enters, bound for those same old music shelves. It is a welcome interruption so far as Fred is concerned. Fred I got to find Paul. I got to do some work. He withdraws. Maxie Looking after him. Just one of the Happiness boys⁠—he and Pagliacco. Goldie With her songs. Mother song and mother song⁠—why don’t they ever write about their uncle? Maxie Thoughtfully. Suppose I told you I was thinking of doing something about him? Goldie What? Maxie Suppose I went even further and told you I’d already