JIM. Can I come in?
LAURA. [_Without turning_.] Hello, Jim Weston. [_He closes door and
enters_.] Any luck?
JIM. Lots of it.
LAURA. That's good. Tell me.
JIM. It's bad luck. Guess you don't want to hear.
LAURA. I'm sorry. Where have you been?
JIM. I kind o' felt around up at Burgess's office. I thought I might
get a job there, but he put me off until to-morrow. Somehow those
fellows always do business to-morrow.
[_Hurdy-gurdy dies out_.
LAURA. Yes, and there's always to-day to look after.
JIM. I'm ready to give up. I've tramped Broadway for nine weeks until
every piece of flagstone gives me the laugh when it sees my feet
coming. Got a letter from the missis this morning. The kids got to
have some clothes, there's measles in the town, and mumps in the next
village. I've just got to raise some money or get some work, or the
first thing you'll know I'll be hanging around Central Park on a dark
night with a club.
LAURA. I know just how you feel. Sit down, Jim. [JIM _crosses and
sits in chair right of table_.] It's pretty tough for me [_Offers_ JIM
_glass of milk; he refuses; takes crackers_.], but it must be a whole
lot worse for you with a wife and kids.
JIM. Oh, if a man's alone he can generally get along--turn his hand to
anything; but a woman--
LAURA. Worse, you think?
JIM. I was just thinking about you and what Burgess said?
LAURA. What was that?
[_Crosses to bed; sits on up-stage side, sipping milk_.
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