Bernice by Susan Glaspell ~ Full Audiobook
01:43:30 Share

This episode is brought to you by Disney's Lilo & Stitch, only in theaters this Memorial Day. A reimagining of Disney's animated classic, Lilo & Stitch is the wildly funny and touching story of a lonely Hawaiian girl, Lilo, and the fugitive alien, Stitch, who helps to mend her broken family. Lilo & Stitch crashes into theaters May 23rd. Rated PG. Get tickets now.

Hey there, travelers. Kaley Cuoco here. Sorry to interrupt your music, great artist BT Dubs, but wouldn't you rather be there to hear it live? With Priceline, you can get out of your dreams and into your dream concert. They've got millions of travel deals to get you to that festival, gig, rave, sound bath, or sonic experience you've been dreaming of. Download the Priceline app today, and you can save up to 60% off hotels and up to 50% off flights. So don't just dream about that trip. Book it with Priceline. ♪ Go to your happy price, Priceline ♪

Are you still quoting 30-year-old movies? Have you said cool beans in the past 90 days? Do you think Discover isn't widely accepted? If this sounds like you, you're stuck in the past. Discover is accepted at 99% of places that take credit cards nationwide. And every time you make a purchase with your card, you automatically earn cash back. Welcome to the now. It pays to discover. Learn more at discover.com slash credit card. Based on the February 2024 Nielsen Report.

Act 1 of Bernice by Susan Glasspell

Scene. The living room of Bernice's house in the country. You feel yourself in the house of a woman you would like to know, a woman of sure and beautiful instincts, who lives simply. At the spectator's right, stairs go up from the living room. Back of this, right, rear, a door. To the front of the stairs is a narrowed passage as of a hall leading to the kitchen. On the other side of the room is a tea table before the fireplace, and

and before it is a low rounded chair as if awaiting the one who will come to serve tea toward the rear of this left wall is a door this door is closed from the back of the room french windows lead directly out of doors on each side of this door is a window thus opening almost the entire wall to the october woods there are comfortable seats under the windows books about it is late afternoon and the sun glows through the flaming leaves

As the curtain is drawn, the father is seen sitting at a long table at the side of the stairway, playing solitaire. At the back of the cards, open books are propped against the wall, and papers on which he has been writing. Abbey, a middle-aged servant, is attending to the open fire, father holding up a card he is about to place. "'Ten minutes since the train whistled. They'll be here in five minutes now.' "'Yes, sir.' "'It will be hard for Craig to come in this house, Abbey.'

"'Oh, yes.' "'Bernice made this house.' "'Father looking around. "'Everything is Bernice. "'Change something, Abby. "'Put something in a different place. "'He takes a pillow from the seat under the window, "'holds it irresolutely a moment, "'puts it on the floor at the side of the fireplace. "'On the other side he moves a high vase from the window, "'then helplessly. "'Well, I don't know.'

You can't get Bernice out of this room. The tea table. Come, Abby, quick. We'll take this out of the room. Together, Abby reluctant, they move it to the passageway leading out from the living room. The father comes back and sees the chair, now without its table. He goes as if to move it, but cannot do this. Looks old and broken as he faces the closed door. I wish they'd left Bernice upstairs, Abby, in her own room. Now there...

"'So near the living room? Right off the living room?' Hastily goes back to his cards, but in an instant he brushes them together and pulls the open book toward him, and papers, but he only rests his hand on the book. "'There'll only be Craig and his sister on this train, Abby.' "'That's all I know of.' "'But Margaret Pearce will be here soon. As soon as she can get here, Margaret will come. Within an hour, probably.' "'You think so, sir?'

"I think so. That train from the west got to the junction at three. I've a feeling Margaret won't wait for the five o'clock train to get here. She'll get a car." Abby goes to the door and looks out. "It would save her a little time. And she doesn't know that Bernice... Yes, Margaret will get here the quickest way. She always came to Bernice when Bernice needed her." "She doesn't need anyone now." "No. But yes, in a way she does.

She needs someone to be here to do what she can't go on doing. Margaret will see to that. When she knows, Margaret sees everything. You think so, sir? Oh, yes, she does. Bernice knew that. Margaret sees things, I've heard Bernice say. Abby turns from him. Now, Mrs. Kirby, Craig's sister Laura, she's a sensible woman. She'll be a help to you, Abby, in arranging things.

But see things? No. How different people are. They're all different, Abby. I don't think Bernice cared much for Laura. Though she didn't mind her. She'd just laugh about Laura. About her being so sure of everything. It was nice, Abby. The way Bernice would just laugh about things. She had no malice. Abby, strangely intense. No, she didn't have, did she? Oh no, Abby. Abby.

Malice wasn't in her. It was just that a good many things... Well, the things that are important to most people weren't so important to Bernice. It was another set of things were important. People called her detached. I don't know. Maybe they're detached, Abby. Maybe it's Laura Kirby, the sensible woman who's detached. Bernice would have laughed at that. The practical person who's detached and Bernice... You know what I mean, Abby?

"'I think I do, knowing her.' "'To you. Did she seem detached?' "'Abby, tenderly thinking it out. "'She was loving and thoughtful and gay, but always a little of what she is now.' "'Abby faces the closed door.' "'Off by herself.' "'With that intensity the present moment does not account for.' "'You can't expect to understand a person who is off by herself, now, can you?' "'I understood, Denise.'

except there were things outside what I understood. That's it, and we should take what we had, shouldn't we, and not try to reach into where we didn't go. I suppose that's true, Abby. Father buries his face. Oh, I wish my little girl hadn't died. What am I going to do, Abby? How can I stay here? And how can I go away? We should die in our proper order. I should have gone before my daughter.

Anything else makes confusion. There's not going to be anybody to laugh at me now, Abby. I'll miss the way Bernice laughed at me. A laugh that took me in and... Yes, took me in. She laughed at my spending the whole time of the war studying Sanskrit. Well, why shouldn't I? What can the old do about war? I had my vision of life. If that had been followed, there'd have been no war. But in a world that won't have visions...

Why not study Sanskrit while such a world is being made over into another such world? Father listening. You hear someone, Abbey? Abbey, after listening. It didn't turn in. And you, Abbey. Why, you were with us when Bernice was born. Yes, I was in the room the night she was born. The night she died, I thought of the night she was born. That was how long ago, Abbey?

35 years ago. Was Bernice 35 years old? She was, Abby. My little girl. Well, life moves by and we hardly know it's moving. Why, Abby, your whole life has been lived around Bernice. Abby nods. It will be now as if things had fallen apart and it was the main thing in your life, doing things for her.

Yes, it was the main thing in my life, doing what she wanted. I couldn't do anything else now, could I? Father, a little surprised at her agitation, but not thinking about it. Why no? Now someone is coming, Abby. You hear them coming? I think so. She goes to the door. Yes.

Abby opens the door and Laura and Craig come in. Craig holds back as if to enter this house is something he can scarcely make himself do. He does not look around the room. Laura, to the father, taking his hand. This is so hard for you, Mr. Allen. I cannot tell you how- Laura, turning to Abby. Abby- Father, going to Craig, who is still at the door. Well, Craig? The father holds out his hand. Craig takes it.

Well, I don't know what we're going to do without her. Laura, coming to the rescue with the practical. And where are you going to put us, Abby? I have the rooms right upstairs. Craig, as if he cannot do this. Upstairs? She's down here, sir. She indicates the closed door, then takes Laura's bag and they start upstairs. Craig does not move. Laura, on the stairway. Aren't you coming up, Craig, to get clean and rest a little?

in a minute or two he sits down on the edge of a chair near the door the father and husband sit there silent bernice hadn't been sick long had she no it was very sudden you know she had had trouble occasionally in the past year dr willis had said she might have to go to the hospital first this seemed like that so abby and i weren't really alarmed of course we sent for willis but he was in boston

young stewart had the grip so there was no doctor here till afterwards and how long was bernie sick he speaks with difficulty she spoke of feeling badly on tuesday she was lying down most of that day wednesday she didn't get up at all wednesday and she died late wednesday night abby and i were here all alone

"'Did she say... did she leave... well, we can talk of that later.' "'Father, change into something not so hard to speak of.' "'You landed last week?' "'Yes, I was held in New York by things to do.' "'A glance at the father.' "'Of course, if I had had any idea...' "'Of course.' "'But Bernice wrote me she was fine.' "'She seemed so.'

She was well and seemed very happy here this fall. You know how she loves to tramp the woods in the fall. She was counting on your coming home. She'd done over your room upstairs. And hers too. They both looked so nice and fresh. And she was just starting to do some things to Margaret's room. Margaret was coming here next month for a rest. She's been working very hard. Are you expecting Margaret now? Yes.

Wednesday evening, Bernice seemed to want Margaret to come. She thought maybe Margaret could get away now, and that it would do her good, too. She had been worrying about her, thinking she was working too hard. Margaret's been in Chicago, you know, working on some labour things. I never know just what it is she is doing. Bernice seemed to want to see her. I wonder if Bernice herself felt it was more than we knew. Anyhow, she wanted us to send for Margaret. But you didn't send for me.

Until... until it was over. No. You see, we didn't know. Abby and I didn't have any idea. I spoke of sending for you when we sent the telegram for Margaret, but Bernice said you'd be here soon anyway and she didn't want to hurry you away from New York. Father, as if not understanding it himself and trying to find an explanation. I suppose you were doing something that she knew about and didn't want to interrupt. Craig half looks at him.

and margaret answered that she was coming yes we heard from her thursday morning that she had started she could get here today we didn't know where to reach her telling her it was too late now for-for the visit with bernice i just can't believe it think of what you and i are talking about bernice out of life she was so of it didn't you feel that craig about bernice yes

"'She seems so... secured. It never seemed anything could... destroy Bernice.' "'When I think she won't come down those stairs again.' "'I can't think of things that way now.' "'No, no, of course not.' He does not know what to say, so gathers together his cards, then books. "'I'll just... I was just going in my room.'

"'I've been getting on fine with my Sanskrit, Craig.' "'That's good.' "'And now the war is over, and some of the people who fussed around about it influenced it as little as I. And I have my Sanskrit. You know, the niece used to laugh at me, Craig. She—the way she used to laugh at us, lovingly. Seems to me I'll miss that most of all.' He goes into his room, through the doors to the rear of the stairway.

Alone in the room, Craig tries to look around. He cannot. He is taken a step toward the closed door when he hears Abby step on the stairs. Craig, impetuously going to her, his hands out. "Oh, Abby, you were good to her." Craig takes her hands, holds them tight, then changing. "Why didn't you telegraph me when she was taken sick? Do you think there was anything in New York I wouldn't have left?"

bernice knew that if she needed me she never seemed to need me i never felt she couldn't get along without me craig taking a few stumbling steps toward the room where bernice is oh i wish i could have a talk with her mr norris her tone halts him there is something i must tell you a message she left

"'Message? No, yes, perhaps. Before you go in there, I must tell you—' They are arrested by the sound of a stopping car. Neither moves. In a moment, Margaret Pearce hurries in. Margaret, after looking at them. "'She's worse. Where is she?' Margaret starts towards the stairs. "'No, there—' Abby, pointing. Craig, stepping between Margaret and the closed door. "'She's dead, Margaret.'

Dead? Oh, no. Not Bernice. Margaret waits imploringly. But that couldn't be! I know. I know what you mean, Margaret. It seems Margaret is about to fall. Craig brings a chair. Without taking a step, she sinks to it, facing the closed door. Abby turns and goes out toward the kitchen. Margaret, a slight quick turn of her head to him. I don't believe it. It's true, Margaret. It's true.

Margaret, like blood from her heart. But Bernice, she was life. I know what you mean. Margaret, after much has gone on in her. And I wasn't here. No, nor I. Margaret, a moment later, just having taken this in. Why weren't you here? I didn't know she was sick. Your boat got in a week ago. Yes, I was detained in New York.

detained by may fredericks margaret bernice wouldn't want you to talk that way to me now no why she knew it bernice knew i was staying out on long island with them while i was attending to some things about my work i had a beautiful letter from bernice she was perfectly all right about everything and i was anxious now to get home to her

I was getting ready to start the very day I got the telegram that... that it was like this. You mean you think I didn't make Bernice happy, Margaret? Oh, I don't think you had the power to make her very unhappy. That's a cruel thing to say, Margaret. Bernice wouldn't say that to me. Margaret, who was all the while looking straight ahead at the closed door... No. She understood me. And was indulgent.

"'Margaret, did you ever feel you didn't really get to Bernice?' "'Get to her? So far as I had power. She never held me back. Life broke through her. A life deeper than anything that could happen to her.' "'Yes, that's it. Something you couldn't destroy. A life in her deeper than anything that could be done to her. That, that makes a difference, Margaret.'

i never had bernice oh wasn't it wonderful to you that beneath what you had was a life too full too rich to be had i should think that would flow over your life and give it beauty i suppose a man's feeling is different he has to feel that he moves completely moves

Yes, could destroy. Not that he would, but has the power to reshape the... Craig. Reshape Bernice. Oh, I came to see her, not to sit here talking to you. I loved her, Margaret. I valued her, even though her life wasn't made by my life. And she loved me. You think she didn't? No, Craig.

i don't think she didn't i know she did i was thinking of those things in her even greater than loving those things in her even loving never caught yes i know margaret i want to see bernice crying she goes blindly toward the closed door and to bernice a second time left alone in the room craig now looks at those various things with which he and bernice have lived

When he can no longer do this, he goes to the passageway at the front of the staircase. Abby! After a moment's wait, Abby comes slowly in. When Miss Margaret came, you were about to tell me something. My wife left a message for me. Yes. No, I don't know. She killed herself. Craig, falling back. What? Are you saying...

she did it herself took her life now i've told you you know now craig roughly taking hold of her ho ho ho what's this you're saying what's this lie you're trying to craig letting go of her in horror imploringly oh habby tell me it isn't true

it's true i'm telling you it's true she didn't want to live any longer so she took something and that her life that's all that's all i can tell you nobody knows not her father nobody i thought i ought to tell you now i've told you let me go i've told you i she breaks from him and rushes out craig does not move margaret comes from beneath without looking at craig opens the door to go outside

Craig, scarcely able to call to her. Margaret. Margaret, not turning. I'll be back soon. You can't go away leaving me alone with this. I tell you, I can't stand it. You're going to the woods to think of Bernice. Well, I'll tell you one thing. You never knew Bernice. You thought she didn't love me. You think I didn't matter. But Bernice killed herself because she loved me so.

"'What are you saying?' Abby just told me. "'No one knows. Not her father. Only Abby.' "'It is not true.' "'Yes, Abby was with her. Oh, Margaret, she loved me like that.' "'And you killed her!' "'No. Oh, don't say that. I didn't know.' "'Margaret, after trying to take it in—' "'I knew, Bernice.'

"'She was life. She came from the whole of life. You are asking me to believe that because of some little thing in her own life.' "'But it wasn't a little thing. That's what we didn't know. I was everything to Bernice, more than all that life we felt.' "'Someone is heard above.' "'I think Laura's coming down. Laura mustn't know. I had to have you know. Nobody else. Not Laura.'

Laura, on the stairs. Oh, Margaret, you have come. I was just going out. As Laura comes nearer. I'm going to take a walk. She goes out, Laura looking after her. Take a walk? She always does some strange thing. Craig is sunk to a chair, his back to Laura. Why should she rush away like this? As if it were so much harder for her to stay in this house than for anyone else.

Craig, bowed, covers his face with his hands. Has she been trying to make you feel badly, Craig? She goes up to him and puts her hand on his bent shoulder. Don't let her do that. It isn't true. It isn't as if Bernice were... Like most women, there was something aloof in Bernice. You saw it in her eyes, even in her smile. Oh, I thought she was wonderful too, only...

"'It isn't as if, Bernice—' "'If you think she didn't love me, you're wrong.' "'Oh, Craig, love you, of course. Only thinks that might have hurt another woman.' "'How do we know who's hurt? Who isn't? Who loves? Who doesn't love? Don't talk, Laura.' She stands there beside him, the father, coming in. At first sees only Laura. "'I must have dropped the tin of diamonds.'

father seeing craig of course er of course i try not to think of it my little girl she loved life so always from the time she was a baby she did rejoice so in the world

he stands looking at the closed door abby comes in looks at craig hesitates then slowly crosses the room and takes the travelling bag he brought in when he came another look at his bowed head then self-bowed starts up the stairs curtain

End of Act 1.

Some things work better together. Like NARS' Soft Matte Complete Concealer and Radiant Creamy Concealer. Soft Matte Complete Concealer erases and blurs imperfections with full coverage. Then, Radiant Creamy Concealer evens and brightens with a luxurious texture and radiant finish. Two concealers, one flawless look. Perfect for a no-foundation base. NARS. Better together. Visit Ulta to shop now.

ACT II OF BERNICE by Susan Glassbell This is a Leibrox recording. All Leibrox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit leibrox.org. SCENE As in Act I, save that it is evening now, the reading lamp is lighted and candles. Laura is sitting before the fire knitting. Abby is standing at the foot of the stairs, as if Laura had called her as she came down. But he dumped the tray. Did he, Abby? No.

He let me leave it. And how did he seem? I didn't see his face, and he didn't say anything. He wasn't like that until Margaret Pierce came. How long was Mrs. Norris sick, Abby? As she asks this, the outer door opens and Margaret comes in. Been out looking at the stars, Margaret? Aren't they bright up here in the hills? Aye, I didn't see them.

She looks at Abby, who is looking at her. Abby turns away from Margaret's look. I was asking you, how long was Mrs. Snorri's sick, Abby? Two days. And just what did the doctor say was the matter? The doctor wasn't here. She steals a glance at Margaret, who is all the while looking at her. I know. But afterwards, what was his opinion?

Attacks like she had had before, only worse. Ulcers in the stomach, he thought it was. It's a great pity you couldn't get a doctor. That's the worst of living way up here by oneself. Mrs Norris had seemed well, hadn't she? Yes, except once in a while, the doctor had said that she ought to go to the hospital to find out. Margaret, to Laura. Too bad Craig wasn't here. Yes, yes.

He was detained in New York. Yes, I know. Abby, I wish you would go up and ask Mr. Norris if he would like some more coffee and see how he seems. Laura, to Margaret, resentfully, We don't understand why Craig should be quite like this. Abby does not move until Laura looks at her in surprise. Then she turns to go. No, I'll go myself, Abby. I want to see how he is.

She goes up and Abby comes back. Without looking at Margaret, she is turning toward the kitchen. Abby. Reluctantly, Abby comes back, at first not looking up. Then she raises her eyes. Yes, he told me. Abby does not speak or move. Had she seemed unhappy, Abby? No, no, I hadn't noticed anything. Abby, don't shut me out like this. She wouldn't shut me out. Bernice loved me.

i know i know she did but there's nothing for me to tell you miss margaret and it's hard for me to talk about i loved her too i lived with her her whole life long first the baby i took care of and played with then all the changing with the different years then this a move of her hands towards the closed door yes then this that's it abby this takes away from all that

"'Abby, do you understand it? If you do, won't you help me?' "'I don't understand it.' "'It's something so... outside all the rest. That's why I can't accept it. Something in me just won't take it in. Because it isn't right. I knew her. I know I knew her. And this... why then I didn't know her. Can't you help me?' "'I don't see how, Miss Margaret.' "'But if you would tell me things you know, little things...

Even though they meant nothing to you, they might mean something to me. Abby, because you loved her, don't you want what she was to go on living in our hearts? Oh, I do, I do, but she'll go on living in my heart without my understanding what she did. But differently. I'll tell you what I mean. Everything about her has always been herself.

That was one of the rare things about her and herself. Oh, it's something you don't want to lose. It's been the beauty in my life, in my busy practical life, Bernice. What she was, like a breath that blew over my life and made it something. I know just what you mean, Miss Margaret. It's inconceivable that she should cut off her own life and her lived all the life that was behind her.

You felt that in her so wonderfully. She felt it in herself. But her eyes couldn't have been like that. Could they? Could they, Abby? It wouldn't seem so. She wouldn't destroy so much. Why, she never destroyed anything. A flower, a caterpillar. Don't you see what I mean, Abby? This denies so much. And then is it true that all this time she wasn't happy? Why, she seemed happy as trees grow.

Did Mr. Norris make her unhappy? Oh, don't think you shouldn't talk about it. Don't act as if I shouldn't ask. It's too big for those little scruples. Abby, I can't let Bernice's life go out in darkness. So tell me, just what happened? Each little thing. Margaret has taken hold of Abby. Abby has turned away. When did you first know she had taken something? Just what did she say to you about it? I want to know each little thing. I have a right to know.

Mrs. Scarab is coming down now. I want to talk to you, Abby, after the others have gone to bed. Margaret, what is to be gained in making people feel worse than they need?

Greg upstairs. He's so broken, strange. And even Abby, as she passed me now. You seem to do this to them. And why? I don't do it to them. I'm not very happy myself. Of course not. None of us can be that. I believe we should try to bear things with courage.

That comes easily from the person who's bearing little. You think it means nothing to me that my brother has lost his wife. Your brother has lost his wife. That's all you see in it. I don't see why you seem so wild, so resentful, Margaret. Death should soften us. She takes her old place before the fire. Well, I can tell you this doesn't soften me. I see that you feel hurt toward Craig.

But... Bernice didn't. You think he should have come right home. But you must be just enough to admit he didn't have any idea Bernice was going to be taken suddenly sick. He had been out of the country for three months. Naturally, there were things connected with his writing to see about. Connected with his writing? Laura, don't lie about life with death in the next room.

If you want to talk at a time like this, have the decency to be honest. Try to see the truth about living. Craig stayed in New York with Mae Fredericks. And he doesn't pretend anything else. Stayed there with Mae Fredericks, continuing an affair that has been going on for the past year. And before it was Mae Fredericks, it was this one and that one. All right. That may be all right. I'm not condemning Craig for his affairs. I'm condemning you for the front you're trying to put up.

I certainly am not trying to put up any front. It's merely that there seems nothing to be gained in speaking of certain things. If Craig was really unfaithful, I do condemn him for that. I haven't your liberal ideas. Slight pause. She takes up her knitting. It's unfortunate. Bernice hadn't the power to hold Craig. Hadn't the power to hold Craig...

"'She didn't want to, I suppose your scoffing means. Well, she should have wanted to. It's what a wife should want to do.' "'Oh, Laura. Bernice will never say one more word for herself. In there, alone, still. She will not do one new thing to throw a light back on other things. That's death. A leaving of one's life. Leaving it with us.'

I cannot talk to you about what Bernice should have been. What she was came true and deep from- Margaret, throwing out her hands as giving up saying it, taking it up again. It's true there was something in her Craig did not control. Something he couldn't mess up. There was something in her he might have drawn from and become bigger than he was. But he's vain. He has to be bowling someone over all the time to show that he has power.

I don't agree with you that Craig is especially vain. He's a man. He does want to affect, yes, dominate the woman he loves. What if Bernice didn't give him that feeling of... Supremacy. There's no use trying to talk with you of personal things. Certainly, I don't want a quarrel tonight. That would not be the thing. How is your work going?

I don't quite know what you're doing now, but trying to get someone out of prison, I suppose? Yes. I'm trying to get out of prison all those people who are imprisoned for ideas. I see. I doubt if you see, Laura. Well, I don't say I sympathize, but I see. No. For if you did see, you would have to sympathize.

If you did see, you would be ashamed. You would have to hang your head for this thing of locking any man up because of what his mind sees. If thinking is not to become whatever thinking may become, then why are we here at all? She stops and thinks of it. Why does Bernice, her death, make that so simple tonight? Because she was herself. She had the gift for being herself, and she wanted each one to have the chance to be himself.

Anything else hurt her, as it hurt her to see a dog tied or a child at a narrow window. I don't think Bernice was a good wife for a writer. She would have been a wonderful wife for a real writer. Oh, I know she didn't value Craig's work. And that's another thing. And I suppose you don't value it either. She looks at Margaret, who does not speak. Fortunately, there are many thousands of people in this country who do value it.

And I suppose you think what I do of little value, too. I suppose you scoff at those things who we do to put cripples back in life. No, Laura. I don't scoff at anything that can be done for cripples. Since men have been crippled, cripples must be helped. I only say, don't cripple minds. Strong, free minds that might go, we know not where, might go into places where the light of a mind has never been. Margaret, rising. Think of it.

Think of that chance of making life even greater than death. If you have any respect for life, any reverence, you have to leave the mind free. I do not scoff at you, but you are not a serious person. You have no faith, no hope, no self-respect. Laura, rising.

You tell me I have no self-respect. You, who have not cared what people thought of you, who have not had the sense of fitness, the taste to hold the place you were born to. You tell me, against whom no word was ever spoken, that I have no self-respect. You have a blameless reputation, Laura. You have no self-respect. If you had any respect for your own mind, you could not be willing to limit the mind of any other.

If you had any respect for your own spiritual life, you could not be willing to push yourself into the spiritual life of another. No, you could not. As one seeing far. I see it as I never saw it. Oh, I wish I could talk to Bernice. Something is down. I could see things as I never saw them. Laura, gathering up the things she had been working with. I will go before I'm insulted further.

There's nothing insulting in trying to find the truth. Margaret, impulsively reaching out her hands to Laura as she is indignantly going. Oh, Laura. We die so soon. We live so in the dark. We never become what we might be. I should think we could help each other more. Laura, after being a moment held... It would have to be done more sympathetically. I didn't mean to be unsympathetic. Margaret, watching Laura go up the stairs...

i suppose that's the trouble with me she stands a moment thinking of this then there is something she wants to say she knows then that she is alone and in this room slowly she turns and faces the closed door stands so quite still realizing suddenly turns to the stairway goes up a few steps craig margaret listens then goes up another step and calls a little louder craig laura from above

Please don't disturb Craig, Margaret. Margaret hesitates, turns to go down, a door opens above. Did someone call me? I did, Craig. I'm down here alone, lonely. Craig, as if glad to do so. I'll come down. Craig, after coming. I wanted to come down. I thought Laura was down here. I can't pretend. Not tonight. No, I can't.

I wanted so to talk to Bernice, and when I couldn't, I called to you. I was glad to hear my name. It's too much alone. He and Margaret stand there hesitatingly, as if they are not able to do it. Settle down in this room and talk. Craig takes out a cigarette case, in the subdued voice of one whose feeling is somewhere else. You want a cigarette, Margaret? No, I don't believe so. Oh, I remember. You don't like these. Bernice must have some of the...

He opens a chest on the mantel, takes from it a beautiful little box. Margaret, as she sees this box. Oh. Margaret, turning away. Thank you, Craig, but... Of course. Craig holds the box for a moment, then slowly replaces it. He looks around the room, then helplessly. I don't know what I'm going to do.

He sits down before the fire. Margaret also sits. The door at the other side of the room opens and the father comes in from his room. I was going to bed now. I thought I'd go in here first. Father slowly goes in where Bernice is. Little while Craig and Margaret sit there silent. And I don't know what he's going to do. Poor old man. Bernice was certainly good to him. Keeping him happy in that life he made for himself. Away from life.

it's queer about him margaret somehow he just didn't go on did he made a fight in his youth and stopped there he's one of the wrecks of the darwinian theory spent himself fighting for it and let it go at that craig running his hand through his hair oh well i suppose we're all wrecks of something oh what are you a wreck of margaret you're a wreck of free speech

"'I'm talking like a fool. I'm nervous. I'll be glad when he goes to bed.' "'Craig, looking upstairs.' "'I guess Laura's gone to bed.' "'Craig, after looking into the fire.' "'Well, Bernice isn't leaving any children to be without her. I suppose now it's just as well we lost our boy before we ever had him. But she would have made a wonderful mother, wouldn't she, Margaret?' "'Oh, yes.'

"'You ever wish you had children, Margaret?' "'Yes.' "'Well, why don't you have?' "'Why, I don't just know, Craig. Life seems to get filled up so quickly.' "'Yes, and before we know it, it's all over. Or as good as over. Funny how your mind jumps around. Just then I thought of my mother. How she used to say, "'Now eat your bread, Craig.'

His voice breaks. He buries his face in his hands. Margaret reaches over and puts a hand on his shoulder. The door opens and the father comes out. He stands looking at them. Yes, of course. I'm glad you were here, Margaret. But my little girl looks very peaceful, Craig. She had a happy life. Craig moves, turning a little away. Margaret makes a move as if to shield him, but does not do this. Yes, she had a happy life, didn't she, Margaret?

i always thought so. oh yes, she did. in her own way. a calm way, but very full of her own kind of happiness. father, after reflection. benice was good to me. i suppose she might have liked me to have done some more things, but she wanted me to do what came naturally to me. i suppose that's why we always felt so comfortable with her. she was never trying to make us some outside thing.

Well, you know, Margaret, I can see her now as a baby. She was such a nice baby. She used to reach out her hands. Doing this himself? I suppose they all do. I'm going to bed. After starting. I'm glad you're here with Craig, Margaret. Bernice would like this. You two who know all about her. Well, no. Nobody knew all about Bernice.

But you two, who were closest to her, here now is as close as you can be. I'm going to bed. Good night. Margaret crying. Good night. Craig, after the father has closed his door with violence. Reached out her hands. And what did she get? Craig roughly grasping Margaret's wrists. I killed Bernice. There's no use in saying I didn't. I did, only... Craig letting go of her.

"'Don't flame me tonight, Margaret. I couldn't stand it tonight.' Craig with another abrupt change. "'Am I a fool? Why did I never know Bernice loved me like this? Why wouldn't I know it? We don't know anything about each other, do we, Margaret? Nothing. We never get anywhere.' Craig shivering. "'I'm cold. I wonder if there's anything to drink in the house.'

There must be something. He goes out into the kitchen. After a moment, there is a sound of running water. He comes in with a bottle of whiskey, a pitcher of water. I don't see the glasses. Things seem to have been moved. Craig looks at Margaret as if expecting she'll go and get them. She does not. He goes out again from the kitchen. Margaret, have you any idea where the glasses are? No, Craig, I don't know. Margaret, after hearing him moving things around...

"'There's an Abbey somewhere there.' "'No, she isn't here. She seems to have gone outdoors. She left the door open, too. No wonder it was cold.' Craig, calling at an outer door. "'Abbey!' Sound of the door closing. Again the sound of dishes being moved. "'Well, I don't know where they can have put—' Margaret, covering her face. "'Don't look for things. Bring anything, Craig. There must be something there.'

"'Craig, coming in with cups.' "'Things have been moved around. I stumbled over things that didn't used to be there. You'll have a little, Margaret. It, uh, we need something.' "'I don't, oh, I don't care.' He pours the drinks and drinks his, Craig abruptly shoving his cup away. "'Margaret, I loved Bernice. I suppose you don't believe that. And I thought Bernice knew I loved her.'

"'In spite of, uh, other things. "'What do you think it is, is the matter with me, Margaret, that I—' "'Craig saying it as if raw. "'Missed things. "'You can tell me. "'I'd be glad to feel someone knew. "'Only, oh, don't leave me alone while you're telling me.' "'I'm afraid I have nothing to tell you, Craig. "'I thought I knew Bernice, and now I did know Bernice.'

Margaret gropingly. I feel something we don't get to. And Bernice can't help us. I think she would expect us to find our way. She could always find her way. She had not meant to leave us here. Bernice was so kind. She was kind. Such a sensitive kindness. The kindness, that divine feeling. It was there ahead, to meet it. This is the very thing she would not do. Margaret...

i wish i could tell you about me and bernice i loved her she loved me but there was something in her that had almost nothing to do with our love yes well that isn't right margaret you want to feel that you have the woman you love yes completely yes every bit of her so you turned to woman whom you could have

Yes. But you had all of them simply because there was less to have. You want no baffling sense of something beyond you. He looks at her reproachfully. You wanted me to help you find the truth. I don't believe you can stand truth, Craig. It's hard tonight. But perhaps it is tonight or not at all. It's a strange thing this has done. A light trying to find its way through a fog. In her mind, the light tries to do this.

Craig, why do you write the things you do? Oh, Margaret, is this any time to talk of work? It seems to be. Tonight is all part of the same thing. Laura and I were talking of work, quarreling about it. You were talking of Bernice's father. The light just goes there, that poor sad old man. Why didn't he go on? You said he was a wreck of the Darwinian theory. Then me, a wreck of free speech.

Oh, I didn't mean you were, Margaret. But I might be. I can see that. We give ourselves in fighting for a thing that seems important. And in that fight, we get out of the flow of life. We had meant it to deepen the flow. But we get caught. I know people like that. People who get at home in their fight and stay there. And are left there when the fight's over. Like this old man.

How many nights Bernice and I have sat in this room and talked of things. And I had thought, if you had been good to her, she would be in this room now. After a look at him. I'm sorry, but can I help feeling it? I didn't know. No, you didn't know. We don't know. When you think what a writer might do for life, for we don't know. You write so well, Craig, but what of it?

What is it? Is the matter with you? With all you American writers, most all of you. A well put up light, but it doesn't penetrate anything. It never makes the fog part. Just shows itself off. A well put up light. It would be better if we didn't have you at all. Can't you see that it would? Lights which only light themselves keep us from having light, from knowing what the darkness is. After thinking. Craig.

As you write these things, are there never times when you sit there, dumb, and know that you are glib and empty? Did you ever try to write, Margaret? No. I suppose you think it's very simple to be real. I suppose you think we could do it, if we just wanted to do it. Try it. You try. So you do this just to cover the fact that you can't do anything? Your skill, a mask for your lack of power?

"'I should think you'd want to be good to me tonight, Margaret.' "'Be good to you? Keep you from seeing? That's the way we're good to each other. There's only one thing I could do for you tonight, Craig. You don't want that, so—' Moves as if to rise. "'No, don't go away. My brain won't keep still, either. What I think is just as bad as what you say.' "'Well, why do you think it is?'

I miss things and never get anywhere. I don't know. And it's true of all of us. Of me too. I do things that to me seem important, and yet I just do them. I don't get to the thing I'm doing them for. To life itself. I don't simply and profoundly get to life. Bernice did. Yes, Bernice did. And yet you had to shy away from Bernice.

Into a smaller world that could be all your world. No, Craig, you haven't power. It's true. And for one hour in our lives, let's try to... Those love affairs of yours, they're like your false writing. To keep yourself from knowing you haven't power. Did you ever see a child try to do a thing? Fail. Then turn to something he could do and make a great show of doing that. That's what most of our lives are like. Well, why haven't I power?

If you are going to be any good to me, tell me that. Margaret shaking her head. I can't tell you that. I haven't any light that goes there. But isn't it true? Isn't your life this long attempt to appear effective, to persuade yourself that you are something? What a way to spend the little time there is for living. I fancy it's the way most lives are spent. That only makes it infinitely sadder.

Craig as if he can stay in this no longer. As to writing, Margaret, the things that interest you wouldn't interest most people. Wouldn't interest most people. Oh, Craig, don't slide away from that one honest moment. Say you haven't got it. Don't say they wouldn't want it. Why, if now, in this our day, our troubled day of many shadows, came a light, a light to reach those never-lighted places—

Wouldn't want it. I wish someone could try them. No, Craig, they all have their times of suspecting their lives are going by in a fog. They're pitifully anxious for a little light. Why, they continue to look to writers. You know, Craig, what living makes of us. It's a rim, a bounded circle, and yet we know, have our times of suspecting, that if we could break through that... Margaret seeing... Oh...

It's like living in the mountains. Those high, vast places of Colorado, in a little house with shaded windows. You'd suspect what was there. A little sunshine through the cracks, mountain smells, and at times the house would shake, and you'd wonder, and be fretted in your little room. And if someday you could put up the shade and see where you were, life would never be so small a thing again. Bernice could do that.

Her own life did not bound her. No, that was what... Hurt your vanity. I don't know. I'm trying to be honest. I honestly don't know. No, we don't know. That's why. Oh, Craig, it would be so wonderful to be a writer. Something that gets a little farther than others can get. Gets at least the edge of the shadow. Margaret, after her own moment on the edge of the shadow...

if you ever felt the shock of reality and got that back in you you wouldn't be thinking of whom it would interest but craig this a movement toward the closed room doesn't this give you that shock of reality what of you doesn't it give it to you you're speaking as if this hadn't happened you leave it out what bernice did because of me you're talking of my having no power what of this

"'Had I no power?' "'After her look at him.' "'Oh, yes. I know I used it terribly. Plenty of years for my heart to break over that. But can you say I didn't have it?' "'I do leave it out. It isn't right there should be anything in Bernice not Bernice. And she had a great rightness. Rightness without effort. That rare, rare thing.' "'You say it isn't right. And so you leave it out?'

And then you talk about the shock of reality. I don't say it isn't fact. I say it isn't in the rightness. In the rightness? Is that for you to say? Is rightness what you think? What you can see? No. You didn't know, Bernice. You didn't know she loved me that way. And I didn't know. But she did. How could I have had that?

"'And not known. But I did have it. I did have it. You say life broke through her, the whole of life. But Bernice didn't want the whole of life. She wanted me.' He goes to the door, bows against it, all sorrow and need. "'I want to talk to her, not you. I want her, now, knowing.'

He opens that door and goes into Bernice. Margaret stands motionless, searching, and as if something is coming to her from the rightness. When she speaks, it is a denial from that inner affirmation. ''No. I say no!'' Margaret, feeling someone behind her, swiftly turning, she sees Abby outside, looking through the not-quite-drawn curtains of the door. She goes to the door and draws Abby in. ''Yes. I am here. And I say no!''

she has hold of her drawing her in as she says it you understand i say no i don't believe it what you told me i don't believe it abby at first it is horror then strange relief as if nothing could be so bad as this has been well i'm glad you know margaret very slowly knowing now it is fact she has come to glad i know what that it isn't true that she didn't do it didn't do it

Did not take her own life. No, of course she didn't. Margaret, still very slowly, as if much more is coming than she can take in. Then why did you say she did? Because she said I must. Oh, look at me, look at me. But you knew her. You know the strength of her. If she told you the way she told me, you'd have done it too. You would. Margaret, saying each word by itself. I cannot...

understand one word you're saying something is wrong with you margaret changing and roughly taking hold of abby tell me quick the truth it was the night about eight o'clock about an hour after she told me to telegraph hugh she said why

"'Why, Abby, I believe I'm going to die.' "'I said no, but she said, I think so. "'I said, with scent for Mr Norris. "'She said no and not to frighten her father. "'I didn't think she was going to die. "'All the time I was trying to get the doctor. "'There were two hours when she was quiet. "'Quiet, not like any quiet I ever knew. "'Thinking, you could see thinking in her eyes, "'stronger than sickness.'

10 after 10, she called me to her. She took my hands. She said, Abby, you've lived with me all my life. Yes, I said. You love me. Oh, yes, I said. Will you do something for me? You know I will, I told her. Abby, she said, looking right at me. All of her looking right at me. If I die, I want you to tell my husband I killed myself. Margaret falls back.

yes i did that too and i thought it was her mind but i looked at her and oh her mind was there it was terrible how it was all there she said and then she the sob she's been holding back almost keep abby from saying this

held out her hands to me oh amy do this last thing for me after all there has been i have a right to do it if my life is going let me have this much from it and still i couldn't couldn't tears ran down her face and she said i want to rest before pain comes again promise me so i can rest and i promised and you would have to you don't know what you're telling me you don't know what you're doing you do this now

After she can do nothing? Margaret, holding out her hands. Abby, tell me it isn't true. It's true. You are telling me her life was hate. Margaret stops, half turns to the room where Craig is with Bernice. You are telling me she covered hate with the beauty that was like nothing else? Abby, you are telling me that as Bernice left life she held out her hands and asked you to take this back for her?

There are things we can't understand. There's no use trying. She turns to go. You can't leave me like this. You shouldn't have tried to know. But if you have got to know things, you have got to take them. Craig comes out. Abby goes. Go in there, Margaret. There's something wonderful there. Margaret turned from him, her face buried in her hands. Oh, no, no, no.

I can never go in there. I... I never was in there. Her other words are lost in her wild sobbing. He stands regarding her in wonder, but not losing what he himself has found. Curtain. End of Act 2. This episode is brought to you by Tinder.

You ever see someone on Tinder that takes your breath away? Now, with Tinder's first impressions, you can send a message to help stand out before you match. Try gassing up their hottest take, bond with them over a weirdly specific obsession, or hit them with a joke they have to respond to. Try Tinder's first impressions feature and explore all of the possibilities for yourself. Tinder. It starts with a swipe. Download Tinder today.

Spring savings are in the air, and at Ross, where they have savings on all the brands you love. From the latest fashion to outdoor decor and even pet supplies, savings are in every aisle. Go to Ross and save 20-60% off other retailers' prices on your favorite spring finds. Act 3 of Bernice by Susan Glassbell. This is a Librox recording. All Librox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librox.org. Scene.

the same is in acts one and two it is early afternoon of the next day the door leading out doors is a little open when the curtain is drawn craig is seen outside just passing the window as one who is walking back and forth and thinking in the room are laura and the father the father sitting at the table by the stairs laura standing watches craig pass the door she has in her hand a paper on which are some memoranda after watching craig she sighs looks at her notes sits down

I am sorry to be troubling you, Mr. Allen. Certainly, you should not be asked to discuss these matters about arrangements. But really, you and I seem the only people who are capable of going on with things. I must say, I don't know what to make of everyone else. They all seem to be trying to keep away from one. I think that's a little unnecessary.

Of course I know what grief does, and I'm sure I have every consideration for that, but really, I'm sorry Craig keeps his own sister out when I'm here to help him. And Abby, why she seems to have lost her head just when it's so important that she look after things. And as to Margaret Pierce, she certainly is worse than useless.

i don't see what she came for if she didn't want to be helpful margaret and bernice were very dear friends laura is that any reason for not being helpful in bernice's household at a time like this really i do like control laura after looking at her notes then the minister will come here at three mr allen why that will be a little more than an hour think of things having been neglected like this

as Craig, having turned in his walk, is again passing the door. "'Craig!' he steps to the door. "'The minister, Mr. Howie, will come here, Craig. Three?' "'What for?' "'Craig, what for?' "'I don't see why he comes here. Why, Bernice scarcely knew him.' "'To her father.' "'Did Bernice know him?' "'Well, I don't know whether she knew him.' "'It is not a personal matter, Craig.'

I think it is. Very personal. You mean to say you are not going to have any service? I haven't thought anything about it. Oh, Laura, how can I think of such things now? Well, I will think of them for you, dear. Don't bring him here. He can go there if he wants to, where we have to go, not here, in her own house.

The very last thing. I'm afraid it will seem strange, Craig. Strange? Do I care if it seems strange? Bernice seemed strange too, but she wasn't strange. She was wonderful. Putting out his hand impatiently. Oh no, Laura. There's so much else to think of now. He steps out of the door and stands there, his back to the room. I wonder...

could we go somewhere else into my room perhaps i'm afraid we are keeping craig out of here and i think he wants to be here near bernice we will be undisturbed in my room he gets up and goes to the door of his room laura turns to follow outside craig passes from sight i think it's too bad things have to be made so complicated father after opening the door oh margaret is in here

Margaret, from the other room. I was just going out. I just came in here to... Margaret enters. I just went in there. I didn't think about it being your room. Why, that was quite all right, Margaret. I'm only sorry to disturb you. No, that doesn't matter. I wasn't doing anything. There is a good deal to do.

She follows the father into his room. Margaret walks across the room, walks back, stands still, head bent, hands pressing her temples. Abby comes partway down the stairs, sees Margaret, stands still as if not to be heard, turns to go back upstairs. Margaret, hearing her, looking up. "'Abby!' Abby comes slowly down. "'Where is he, Mr. Norris? Where is he?' "'I don't know. He was here a little while ago. Perhaps he went out.'

"'Abby indicating the door. "'I have to tell him.' "'Abby, after an incredulous moment. "'Tell him what you made me tell you.' "'Of course I have to tell him. "'You think I can leave that on him? "'And the things I said to him, they were not just.' "'Then you'd rather be just than leave it as she wanted it.' "'Oh, but, Abby, what she wanted!' "'Margaret holds up her hand as if to shut something from her eyes. "'No, you can't put that on anyone.'

I couldn't live, feeling I had left on him what shouldn't be there. But you wouldn't tell him now. I must tell him now, or I won't tell him, and I must go away. I can't stay. I can't stay here. But what will they think? You're leaving. You mean before we've taken her away? Oh, I don't know. How can I? I'm going as soon as I can tell him. All night. All day. I've been trying to tell him, and when I get near him...

"'I run away? Why did you tell me?' "'Why did you know what you weren't to know? But if you have some way of knowing what you aren't told, you think you have the right to do your thing with that, and do what she did, what I did. Do you know what it took out of me to do this? There's nothing left of me.' Margaret with a laugh, right on the verge of being not herself. "'No. You're a wreck. Another wreck.'

It's your Darwinian theory. Your free speech. I was afraid of you. I didn't want you to come. I knew you'd get two things. Abby goes to the door and looks out. He is out there? Yes. Margaret tries to go, moves just a little. And you go to him and what for? Because I can't live leaving that on him. Having him think when I know he didn't.

I can't leave that on him one more hour. Abby's standing in the door to block her going. And when you take that from him, what do you give to him? They stare at one another. Margaret falls back. Don't ask me to see so many things, Abby. I can only see this thing. I've grown afraid of seeing. Abby, after looking at her, seeing something of her suffering. Miss Margaret, why did you do what you did last night? How did you know-

i don't know but you knew no i didn't know i didn't know it didn't come from me it came from the rightness a laugh if you could get that without being told why don't you get more without being told margaret gives her a startled look for you will never be told you know more

no my knowing stops with what you got from me last night but i knew her i thought maybe as you have some way of knowing what you are and told you could see into this see i've lost my seeing it was through her i saw it was through bernice i could see and now it's dark margaret's slowly turning toward the closed room oh how still death is the two women are as if caught into this stillness

"'Abby looking from the door. "'He turned this way. "'Abby swiftly turning back to Margaret. "'But you couldn't tell him. "'No, I can't. "'Yes, I must. "'I tell you there's something in me can't stand it "'to see anyone go down under a thing you shouldn't have to bear. "'Why, that feeling has made my life. "'Do you think I've wanted to do the kind of work I do? "'Don't you think I'd like to be doing happier things?'

but there's something in my blood drives me to what's right. and something in my blood drives me to what's right. and i went against it. went against my whole life so she could rest. i did it because i loved her. but you didn't love her. not as you love what's right. if you loved her, don't you want to protect her now that she lies dead in there?

oh miss margaret it was right at the very end of her life maybe when we are going to die things we've borne all our lives are things we can't bear any longer just don't count that last hour margaret after a moment of being swayed by this yet you counted it abby you did what she said because of the strength of her you told me last night her mind was there terrible the way it was right there

She hadn't left her life. If she hadn't left her life, if all those years with him there was something she hid, and if she seemed to feel what she didn't feel, she did it well, didn't she? And almost to the last. Can't we hide it now for her? You and me who love her. Isn't she safe with us? I'll be going nearer, Margaret. Perhaps if you would go in there now. Oh, no. No, no.

"'Abby, in a last deeply emotional appeal, "'Miss Margaret, didn't she do a good deal for you?' "'Do a good deal for me, yes, yes!' "'Yes, she did for me. I have something more on account of her, aren't you?' "'Yes.' "'Yes, I think you are too. I can see myself as I'd have been if my life hadn't been lived round her.' "'Abby thinks, shakes her head.'

it would be left to you what feels and knows it feels and you said it was through bernice you could see well let's forget what we don't want to know on account of what we are that we wouldn't have been let's put it out of our minds one ugly thing in a whole beautiful life let it go let all the rest live they can see craig outside

"'Oh, do this for her. Make yourself do it. Let that be what's dead and let all the rest live. You were her friend, not his.' Craig turns to the house, but when about to come in, turns away, covering his face. Margaret, taking hold of Abby. "'You see, he thinks she loved him and he killed her. He might do what he thinks she did.' Abby, falling back.

Craig comes in, stands by the door. Margaret has drawn Abby over near the stairway. He sees them, but gives no heed to them, immersed in what he is living through. While he stands there, Margaret does not move. He turns toward the room where Bernice is. When he moves, Margaret goes a little toward him. His back is to her. Abby moves to step between Craig and Margaret. Margaret puts her aside. But when Craig comes to the closed door and stands there an instant before it, not

not opening it margaret too stops as if she cannot come nearer him it is only after he has opened the door and closed it behind him that she goes to it she puts out her hands but she does not even touch the door and when she cannot do this she covers her face and head bent stands there before the closed door laura and the father come out from the room where they have been as they enter abby slowly goes out toward the kitchen laura after looking at margaret who has not moved

"'We are going in an hour, Margaret.' "'Going?' "'Taking Bernice to the cemetery.' "'Oh, are we?' After a look which shows her disapproval, Laura goes out, following Abby. Father, sitting. "'I can't believe that, Margaret.' "'No.' Margaret sits in the window seat by which she has been standing, as if she is just realizing what they have said. "'You say we are taking Bernice away from here, in an hour?' "'Yes.'

"'Think of it, Margaret. I just can't take it in.' "'No.' "'There is something I want to tell you, Margaret.' Margaret gives him a quick look, then turns away as if afraid. "'I've been wanting to tell you, but it's hard to talk of such things. Before we take Bernice away, before you see her the last time, I want you to know that night, that night Bernice died—'

At the very last, Abby was afraid then and had called to me. Abby and I were in there and Abby went out about the telephone call we had in for the doctor. I was all alone in there a few minutes, right at the last. Bernice said one last word. Margaret, your name. She called to me? No, I wouldn't say she called to you. Just said your name. The way we say things to ourselves. Say them without knowing we were going to say them.

she didn't really say it she breathed it seemed to come from her whole life oh then it wasn't as if she had left me it wasn't as if anything was in between why no margaret what an idea why i don't think you ever were as close to bernice as when she said your name and died

Margaret's head goes down. She is crying. Craig comes out, carefully closing the door behind him. Partly crosses the room, looks uncertainly at the outer door as if to go outside again. "Sit down, Craig." Craig does this. "Let's not try to keep away from each other now. We're all going through the same thing in our... our different ways." A pause. Margaret raises her head. She is turned a little away from the other two. "I was so glad when you came, Margaret.

"'I didn't want Bernice to slip away from us. "'In an hour we'd take her away from here, "'out of this house she loved. "'I don't want her to slip away from us. "'She loved you so, Margaret, didn't she, Craig?' "'Yes, she did love Margaret.' "'Oh, yes. Margaret sees things,' she'd say. "'Father, wistfully.' "'She had great beauty, didn't she, Margaret?' "'I always thought so.' "'Oh, yes.'

"'I was thinking last night. Malice was not in Bernice. I never knew her to do a really unfriendly thing to anyone.' "'Again in that wistful way.' "'You know, Margaret, I thought you would say things like this, and better than I can say them to keep my little girl for us all. I suppose I'm a foolish old man, but I seem to want them said.' "'Pause. Margaret seems to try to speak, but does not.'

"'I think it was gentle of Bernice to be amused by things "'she perhaps couldn't admire in us she loved. "'Me. "'I suppose she might have liked a father who amounted to more. "'But she always seemed to take pleasure in me. "'Affectionate amusement. "'Didn't you feel that in Bernice, Craig?' "'Yes, that was one thing. "'A service for other things.' "'He speaks out of pain, but out of pain which wants, if it can, to speak.'

But only a surface. All of Bernice went into her love for me. Those big impersonal things, they were not a part. All of Bernice loved me. His voice breaks. He goes to the door, starts out, suddenly steps back with a quick rough turn to her. Isn't that so, Margaret? I can see what you mean, Craig. Why, of course Bernice loved you. I know that.

Craig goes outside, father looking after him. I hope I didn't send Craig away. You and he would rather not talk. Perhaps that is better. I seem to want to gather up things that will keep Bernice. It's so easy for the dead to slip from us. But I mustn't bother you. Oh, you aren't. I'm sorry I'm not doing more. I'm pulled down. I know, Margaret. I can see that.

Another time you and I will talk of Bernice. I didn't mean she didn't love Craig. Of course not. Only, I did feel that much as went into her loving, there was more than went into her loving. Yes. I think it wasn't that she wanted it that way. You know, Margaret, I felt something very wistful of Bernice. Margaret looks at him, nods.

In this calm now, I feel the wistfulness there was in her other calm. Yes. As if she wanted to give us more. Oh, she gave more than anyone else could have given. But not all she was. And she would like to have given us all she was. She wanted to give what couldn't be given. You know what I mean, Margaret? Yes, I do know. And so, wistfulness...

I see it now. Father, after thinking... I think Bernice feared she was not a very good wife from Craig. Margaret gives him a startled look. Little things she'd say. I don't know. Perhaps I'm wrong. After a move of Margaret's... You were going to say something, Margaret? No, I was just thinking of what you said. Craig didn't dominate Bernice. I don't know whose fault it was. I don't know that it was anyone's fault. Just the way things were. He...

i say it's no kindness he just didn't have it in him as i haven't had certain things in me abby comes in people are coming the aldrichs other neighbors oh they're coming already oh they're to wait in the south room till a little later i'll speak to them

They go out. Margaret has a moment alone. Then Craig comes in from outside. People are beginning to come. I suppose they'll come in here soon. I... I don't want them to. Laura enters with boxes of flowers. Oh, Laura, please. Bernice loved flowers. Well, Craig... Would you take them around the other way? Or keep them till later, or something? Something.

"'I don't want them here.' Laura goes out. "'I don't want things to be different, not now, in the last hour. It's still Bernice's house.' Craig, after watching her a moment. "'Margaret, I'm afraid I shouldn't have told you. It's doing too much to you. Surely, no matter what you feel about me, this, what I told you, isn't going to keep you away from Bernice.'

"'No, Craig. What you told me isn't going to do that.' "'I shouldn't have told you. But there are things—too much to be alone with. And yet we are alone with them.' He is seated, looking out toward the woods, very slowly, with deep feeling. "'It is a different world. Life will never be—that old thing again.' Margaret, rising—

Craig. He looks at her. Craig, I must tell you. She does not go on. Craig, after waiting an instant, looks away. I know we can't say things. When we get right to life, we can't say things. But I must say them. I have to tell you. Life need not be a different thing. Need not? You think I want that old thing back? Pretending? Fumbling?

always trying to seem something to feel myself something ah no that's a strange thing for you to say margaret that i can go back to my make-believe now that i've got to life this as if he cannot speak of it this even more than it makes me want to die it makes me want to oh margaret if i could have bernice now knowing

And yet, I never had her until now. This has given Bernice to me. Margaret, as if his words were a light she is almost afraid to use. This has given Bernice to you. I was thinking, walking out there, I was thinking, if I knew only what I knew when I came here, that Bernice was dead, I wonder if I could have got past that failure. Failure, Craig?

of never having had her, that she had lived and loved me. Loved me, you see, lived and loved me and died without my ever having had her. What would there have been to go on living for? Why should such a person go on living? Oh, of course it is another world. This comes crashing through my make-believe, and Bernice's world get to me. Don't you see, Margaret? Perhaps.

"'I do.' She looks at the closed door, looks back to him, waits. "'Oh.' Waits again, and it grows in her. "'Perhaps I do.' Margaret turns and very slowly goes to the closed door, opens it, goes in. At the other side of the room, Abby comes in with a floral piece. "'No, Abby, I just told my sister. I don't want this room to be different.' Craig, looking around. "'It is different. What have you done to it?'

He sees the pillow crowded in at the side of the fireplace, restores it to its place in the window. And this was here. She returns the vase to its place. Of course it was, but it isn't right yet. Craig, after considering. Why, the tea table. Abby turns toward the kitchen. What did you put it out there for? I remember now. I stumbled against it last night. They bring it in.

why yes abby the tea-table was always here before the fire and she hesitates but craig follows her eyes to the chair yes he too hesitates then gives the chair its old place before the table as if awaiting the one who will come and pour tea a moment they stand looking at it then craig looks around the room and what if it is still wrong abby in default there were all those branches in that vase

Abby, indicating the one she has returned to its place. The red and yellow branches from outside. Yes. He goes out. With a feeling which she cannot quite control, Abby does a few little things at the tea table, relating one thing to another until it is as it used to be. Margaret comes out from the room where she has been with Bernice, leaving the door wide open behind her. With the quiet of profound wonder, in a feeling that creates the great stillness, she goes to Abby.

Oh, Abby, yes, I know now. I want you to know. Only, there are things not for words. Feeling, not for words. As a throbbing thing that flies and sings, not for the hand. She starts to close her hand, and closes it. But Abby, there is nothing to hide. There is no shameful thing. What you saw in her eyes as you brooded over life and leaving it. What made you afraid-

was her seeing her seeing into the shadowed places of the life she was leaving and then a gift to the spirit a gift sent back through the dark preposterous profound love her abby she's worth more love than we have power to give craig has come back with some branches from the trees he stands outside the door a moment taking out a few he does not want margaret hears him and turns then turns back

Power! Oh, how strange. Craig comes in, and Margaret and Abby watch him as he puts the bright leaves in the vase. The father comes in. The man who's in charge says we will have to be ready now to- Father, seeing what has been done to the room. Oh, you have given the room back to Bernice. Given everything back to Bernice. Bernice. Insight. The tenderness of insight. And the courage. Yes.

MARGARET To the father, and suddenly with taste in her voice. CRAIG She was wistful, and held out her hands. MARGARET Margaret doing this. CRAIG With gifts she was not afraid to send back. She loved you, Craig. CRAIG I know that, Margaret. I know now how much. MARGARET And more than that. CRAIG Margaret, her voice electric. MARGARET Oh, in all the world, since first life moved, has there been any beauty?

like the beauty of perceiving love no not for words she closes her hand and closes it in a slight gesture of freeing what she would not harm curtain end of act three end of bernice by susan

You just realized your business needed to hire someone yesterday. How can you find amazing candidates fast? Easy, just use Indeed. Stop struggling to get your job posts seen on other job sites. With Indeed sponsored jobs, your post jumps to the top of the page for your relevant candidates, so you can reach the people you want faster. According to Indeed data, sponsored jobs posted directly on Indeed have 45% more applications than non-sponsored jobs.

Don't wait any longer. Speed up your hiring right now with Indeed. And listeners of this show will get a $75 sponsored job credit to get your jobs more visibility at Indeed.com slash ARTS. Just go to Indeed.com slash ARTS right now and support our show by saying you heard about Indeed on this podcast. Terms and conditions apply. Hiring. Indeed is all you need.