That part of my life is my own.
[_Crosses up to seat._] I don't want you to start now and make it
harder for me to do the right thing. It isn't fair; it isn't square;
and it isn't right. You've got to let me go my own way. [_Crosses to_
WILL; _puts right hand on his shoulder._] I'm sorry to leave you, in
a way, but I want you to know that if I go with John it changes the
spelling of the word comradeship into love, and mistress into wife.
Now please don't talk any more. [_Crosses to post; takes scarf off
chair._
WILL. Just a word. Is it settled?
LAURA. [_Impatiently._] I said I didn't know. I would know
to-day--that's what I'm waiting for. Oh, I don't see why he doesn't
come. [WILL _turns up to seat looking over Pass._
WILL. [_Pointing up the Pass._] Is that the fellow coming up here?
LAURA. [_Quickly running toward the balustrade of seat, saying as she
goes_:] Where? [_Kneels on seat_.
WILL. [_Pointing_.] Up the road there. On that yellow horse.
LAURA. [_Looking_.] Yes, that's John. [_She waves her handkerchief,
and putting one hand to her mouth cries_:] Hello!
JOHN. [_Off stage with the effect as if he was on the road winding up
toward the house_.] Hello yourself!
LAURA. [_Same effect_.] Hurry up, you're late.
JOHN. [_Same effect, a little louder_.] Better late than never.
LAURA. [_Same effect_.] Hurry up.
JOHN. [_Little louder_.] Not with this horse.
LAURA. [_To_ WILL, _with enthusiastic expression_.
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