Silas
Morton wasn't afraid of Felix Fejevary, the Hungarian revolutionist. He
laid this country at that refugee's feet! That's what Uncle Felix says
himself--with the left half of his mind. Now--the Hindu
revolutionists--! (_pause_) I took a walk late yesterday afternoon.
Night came, and for some reason I thought of how many nights have
come--nights the earth has known long before we knew the earth. The moon
came up and I thought of how moonlight made this country beautiful
before any man knew that moonlight was beautiful. It gave me a feeling
of coming from something a long way back. Moving toward--what will be
here when I'm not here. Moving. We seem here, now, in America, to have
forgotten we're moving. Think it's just _us_--just now. Of course, that
would make us afraid, and--ridiculous.
(_Her father comes in_.)
IRA: Your Aunt Isabel--did she go away--and leave you?
MADELINE: She's coming back.
IRA: For you?
MADELINE: She--wants me to go with her. This is Professor Holden,
father.
HOLDEN: How do you do, Mr Morton?
IRA: (_nods, not noticing_ HOLDEN_'s offered hand_) How'do. When is she
coming back?
MADELINE: Soon.
IRA: And then you're going with her?
MADELINE: I--don't know.
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