y, always bent on
having your will--

{Margaret}

Would to God I had been more successful in having it.

{Starkweather}

(_Testily._) This is all beside the question. I sent for you to
tell you that this must stop--this association with a man of the
type and character of Knox--a dreamer, a charlatan, a scoundrel--

{Margaret}

It is not necessary to abuse him.

{Starkweather}

It must stop--that is all. Do you understand? It must stop.

{Margaret}

(_Quietly._) It has stopped. I doubt that I shall ever see him
again. He will never come to my house again, at any rate. Are you
satisfied?

{Starkweather}

Perfectly. Of course, you know I have never doubted
you--that--that way.

{Margaret}

(_Quietly._) How little you know women. In your comprehension we
are automatons, puppets, with no hearts nor heats of desire of
our own, with no springs of conduct save those of the immaculate
and puritanical sort that New England crystallized a century or
so ago.

{Starkweather}

(_Suspiciously._) You mean that you and this man--?

{Margaret}

I mean nothing has passed between us. I mean that I am Tom's wife
and Tommy's mother. What I did mean, you have no more understood
than you understand me--or any woman.

{Starkweather}

(_Relieved._) It is well.

{Margaret}

(_Continuing._) And it is so easy. The concept is simple. A woman
is human. That is all. Yet I do believe it is news to you.

(_Enters Dobleman from right carrying a check in his hand.
Starkweather, about to speak, pauses._) (_Dobleman hesitates, and
Starkweather nods for him to advance._)

{Dobleman}

(_Greeting Margaret, and addressing Starkweather._) This check. You
said you would sign it yourself.

{Starkweather}

Yes, that is Rutland's. (_Looks for pen._)

(_Dobleman offers his fountain pen._) No; my own pen.

(_Unlocks dispatch box, gets pen, and signs check. Leaves dispatch
box open._) (_Dobleman takes check and makes exit to right._)

{Starkweather}

(_Picking up documents from top of pile in open box._)

This man Knox. I studied him yesterday. A man of great energy and
ideals. Unfortunately, he is a sentimentalist. He means right--I
grant him that. But he does not understand practical conditions.
He is more dangerous to the welfare of the United States than
ten thousand anarchists. And he is not practical. (_Holding up
documents._)

Behold, stolen from my private files by a yellow journal sneak
thief and turned over