So long!
LAURA. Good-bye.
JIM. Keep your nerve. [_Exit_
LAURA. I will. [_She sits for a moment in deep thought, picks up the
letter received, as if to read it, and then throws it down in anger.
She buries her head in hands_.] I can't stand it--I just simply can't
stand it.
MRS. FARLEY'S VOICE. [_Off stage_.] Miss Murdock--Miss Murdock.
LAURA. [_Brushing away tears, rises, goes to door, and opens it_.]
What is it?
SAME VOICE. There's a lady down here to see you.
ELFIE'S VOICE. [_Off stage_.] Hello, dearie, can I come up?
LAURA. Is that you, Elfie?
ELFIE. Yes; shall I come up?
LAURA. Why, certainly.
_She waits at the door for a moment, and_ ELFIE ST. CLAIR _appears.
She is gorgeously gowned in the rather extreme style affected by the
usual New York woman who is cared for by a gentleman of wealth and
who has not gone through the formality of matrimonial alliance. Her
conduct is always exaggerated and her attitude vigorous. Her gown is
of the latest design, and in every detail of dress she shows evidence
of most extravagant expenditure. She carries a hand-bag of gold,
upon which are attached such trifles as a gold cigarette-case, a gold
powder-box, pencils, and the like_. ELFIE _throws her arms around_
LAURA, _and both exchange kisses_.
ELFIE. Laura, you old dear [_Crossing to table_.], I've just found out
where you've been hiding, and came around to see you.
LAURA. [_Who is much brightened by_ ELFIE'S _appearance_.
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