ANNIE _is
heard coming upstairs_. LAURA _looks quickly towards the door, puts
the letters back in box, and hurriedly places box under mattress, and
replaces pillow_. ANNIE _knocks on door_. LAURA _rises and crosses to
door._
LAURA. Come in.
ANNIE, _a chocolate-colored negress, enters. She is slovenly in
appearance, but must not in any way denote the "mammy." She is the
type one encounters in cheap theatrical lodging-houses. She has a
letter in her hand,--also a clean towel folded,--and approaches_
LAURA.
LAURA. Hello, Annie.
ANNIE. Heah's yo' mail, Miss Laura.
LAURA. [_Taking letter._] Thank you!
[_She looks at the address and does not open it._
ANNIE. One like dat comes every mornin', don't it? Used to all be
postmahked Denver. Must 'a' moved. [_Trying to look over_ LAURA'S
_shoulder_; LAURA _turns and sees her_; ANNIE _looks away._] Where is
dat place called Goldfield, Miss Laura?
LAURA. In Nevada.
ANNIE. In _Nevada_?
LAURA. Yes, Nevada.
ANNIE. [_Draws her jacket closer around her as if chilly._] Must
be mighty smaht to write yuh every day. De pos'man brings it 'leven
o'clock mos' always, sometimes twelve, and again sometimes tehn; but
it comes every day, don't it?
LAURA. I know.
ANNIE. [_Crosses to right of armchair, brushes it off and makes an
effort to read letter, leaning across chair._] Guess must be from yo'
husban', ain't it?
LAURA. No, I haven't any.
ANNIE. [_Crossing to centre triumphantly.
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