"And her father objects to her wanting a life of her own, and insists that she marry this boy he has chosen for her. And the boy tries to lay her, just the way you've got it now, which only strengthens her resolve to lead her own life, choose her own friends, her own lovers, and this leads to the showdown in the third act, just the way you've got it now, between her and her father."
"A social worker," Arthur said blankly.
"Yes, instead of a college girl," Hester said.
"She played a college girl in that last thing at the Rep, you know," Mitzi said to Stuart.
"Yes, she was very good," Stuart said.
"Did you see it?" Hester asked.
"Yes, you were marvelous."
"But, of course, she's done the college girl bit," Mitzi said, "and there has to be a challenge, otherwise what's the sense?"
"That's right," Oscar said. "There has to be a challenge."
"I don't know anything about social work," Arthur said.
"What do you know about mailmen, for that matter?" Oscar said.
"My father was a mailman."
"Well…"
"Do you think the father in the play ought to be a mailman?" Mitzi asked.
"If his daughter is a social worker?" Hester said.
"Do you know anything about social work?" Arthur asked her.
"No, but we can find out anything we need to know. For any scenes showing the girl in her office."
"What office?"
"Where she works."
"Where she does her social work," Mitzi said.
"She could have a colored family she's working with," Hester said, "and maybe her father objects to that, too. Maybe he's a bigot."
"But he isn't," Arthur said. "He's just narrow and… and oriented to… to… to the way things were in the old country. And in the old country, a girl didn't go running off to school, she… she got married and had children and…"
"Do you think that's a universal problem these days, Mr. Constantine?" Mitzi asked.
"What do you mean?"
"An immigrant father and a daughter who rebels…"
"I think the conflict between a father and a daughter is universal, yes. We're dealing with Electra here, what difference does it make whether the father is an immigrant or—"
"That's just my point. If we're dealing with something as universal as the Electra bit, why does the father have to be an immigrant mailman who can hardly speak English?"
"He speaks English fine," Arthur said.
"Well, you know what I mean."
"No, I don't. He's been in this country for thirty-five years. He's a man who's fifty-eight years of age, he speaks English fine. But he still clings to the old traditions, he's got a background of traditions…"
"That's Fiddler, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Fiddler on the Roof. That's Tevye's character, isn't it?"
"That's a different thing entirely," Arthur said. "I lived through this with my father and my sister, and I can tell you…"
"When was that, Arthur?"
"I don't know, she's married now and has three children, she was only eighteen at the time. But I can tell you that the showdown between those two shook our house from the roof to the—"
"Very often, though," Oscar said, "something can seem very dramatic in life, but not when it's put on the stage."
"I think he's presented it very dramatically," Hester said, and smiled.
"Yes, no one has any objections to the dramatic structure," Mitzi said.
"It's just these few character changes."
"Why can't the father work in an office someplace? Or why can't he have his own business? If you insist on his being Italian, why can't he be a building contractor?"
"There are a great many Italian building contractors," Hester said.
"I don't see why he can't be a mailman," Arthur said. "The way I wrote it."
"We're trying to understand him in terms of the modern theatergoer."
"Besides, there was a mailman in the Schisgal play."
"Which Schisgal play?"
"The Tiger."
"Write me a play like Luv" Mitzi said, "and I wouldn't ask for a single change…"
"Brilliant," Stuart said.
"Penetrating," Oscar said.
"Can't I be a social worker, Arthur?" Hester asked. "I'm so tired of playing college girls."
"If this man were educated…" Stuart said.
"Which man?"
"The father. If he were educated, we could offer the part to somebody like Fonda, you know."
"In fact, I hear Fredric March is looking for a play," Oscar said.
"They'd be great with Hester."
"I'd love to work with either one of them," Hester said.
"Don't think they wouldn't love to work with you, baby," Mitzi said, and finished her drink.
"You're a marvelous actress," Stuart said.
"Thank you. I see the social worker as a very dedicated person, don't you?" Hester said, turning to Arthur.
"I don't know anything about social workers," Arthur said. "My sister was a simple girl living in a house she wanted to get out of. That's what this play is about. The fight between her and my father. She wins the fight, Carol wins the fight and goes off to school. All this other stuff…"
"That's not your sister's real name, is it?" Mitiz asked.
"Carol? No."
"What's her name?" Oscar asked.
"Julie. Why?"
"I just wanted to know."
"I didn't know this play was based on an actual experience of yours, Arthur," Stuart said.
"Well, most fiction comes out of a man's life, doesn't it?" Mitzi said.
"I guess so."
"We're not asking you to change the reality of the situation," Hester said.
"We're just asking for a few revisions that would make the story more understandable to a modern audience."
"You talk as if I wrote it back in the Middle Ages," Arthur said, and Oscar immediately laughed. Everyone at the table laughed with him.
"Well, you understand what we mean," Mitzi said, drying her eyes.
"Yes."
"What do you say, Arthur?" Stuart said.
"I don't know. Ill have to think about it."
"Certainly," Mitzi said. "We don't expect a man to make a snap decision. Not when he's worked on something for such a long time."
"That's right," Oscar said.
"You think about it," Hester said.
"Can you let us know by Friday?" Mitzi asked.
"That's only the day after tomorrow," Arthur said.
"Yes."
"Well, I thought… I'm in the middle of a trial, you see, and… I thought I'd read the play over the weekend and see if your suggestions…"
"Well, the only reason I'm suggesting Friday," Mitzi said, "is because they're bringing the new Osborne play over from London, and they've asked Hester to play the part."
"Osborne," Arthur said.
"Yes."
"His new play."
"Yes. And I promised I'd give them an answer before the weekend. And then, of course, I'd still have to go to the people at the Rep and work all that out, so I think you can understand the reason for speed."
"Well, I…"
"The changes seem reasonable, Arthur."
"Well…"
"I think a social worker could be very exciting," Hester said.
"Fonda would be great for the father," Oscar said.
"Think it over, and let us know by Friday, will you?" Mitzi said.
"I'll think it over."
"He'll let you know by Friday," Stuart promised.
He had been watching the office from the drugstore counter across the street on Madison Avenue, drinking three cups of coffee, and then wandering over to browse the paperback racks near the plate glass window (The Paper Dragon, he noticed, was still in print) and then going back to the counter for a fourth, and finally nauseating, cup of coffee. He was heading for the paperback racks again when he saw the lights go off across the street. He quickly paid his check and went to stand just inside the entrance to the drugstore. Chickie came out onto the sidewalk first, wearing a black cloth coat with a black fox collar, and Ruth came out of the office immediately afterwards, pulling the door shut behind her, locking it, and then trying the knob once again before stepping out of the doorway. She looped her arm through Chickie's, and the two women started up Madison Avenue, their heads ducked against the wind. Sidney opened the door immediately and went outside. The sidewalks had been shoveled almost clear of snow, but the footing was treacherous, and the wind was brutally sharp. His eyes began to tear at once. He was wearing gloves, but he thrust his hands into his pockets nonetheless, looking up immediately to make sure the girls were still in sight, and then wondering again why he was behaving so foolishly, following them home from work this way, ridiculous, a man his age.