It isn't easy for a woman to go back and dig up a lot
of ugly memories and try to excuse them. [_Crosses to front of table,
picks up magazine, places it on table_.
JOHN. I've known everything from the first; how you came to San
Francisco as a kid and got into the show business, and how you went
wrong, and then how you married, still a kid, and how your husband
didn't treat you exactly right, and then how, in a fit of drunkenness,
he came home and shot himself. [LAURA _buries her head in her hands,
making exclamations of horror._ JOHN _crosses to her as if sorry for
hurting her; touches her on shoulder._] But that's all past now, and
we can forget that. And I know how you were up against it after that,
how tough it was for you to get along. Then finally how you've lived,
and--and that you and this man Brockton have been--well--never mind.
I've known it all for months, and I've watched you. Now, Laura, the
habit of life is a hard thing to get away from. You've lived in this
way for a long time. If I ask you to be my wife you'll have to give it
up; you'll have to go back to New York and struggle on your own hook
until I get enough to come for you. I don't know how long that will
be, but it _will_ be. Do you love me enough to stick out for the right
thing?
LAURA _crosses to him, puts her arms around him, kisses him once very
affectionately, looks at him very earnestly_.
LAURA. Yes. I think this is my one great chance.
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