ELFIE. Lend _you_ thirty-five dollars?
LAURA. Yes; you've got plenty of money to spare.
ELFIE. Well, you certainly have got a nerve.
LAURA. You might give it to me. I haven't a dollar in the world, and
you pretend to be such a friend to me!
ELFIE. [_Turning and angrily speaking across table_.] So that's the
kind of woman you are, eh? A moment ago you were going to kick me out
of the place because I wasn't decent enough to associate with you.
You know how I live. You know how I get my money--the same way you got
most of yours. And now that you've got this spasm of goodness I'm not
fit to be in your room; but you'll take my money to pay your debts.
You'll let me go out and do this sort of thing for your benefit, while
you try to play the grand lady. I've got your number now, Laura. Where
in hell is your virtue anyway? You can go to the devil--rich, poor, or
any other way. I'm off! ELFIE _rushes toward door; for a moment_ LAURA
_stands speechless, then bursts into hysterics_.
LAURA. Elfie! Elfie! Don't go now! Don't leave me now! [ELFIE
_hesitates with hand on door-knob_.] I can't stand it. I can't be
alone. Don't go, please; don't go.
LAURA _falls into_ ELFIE'S _arms, sobbing. In a moment_ ELFIE'S _whole
demeanour changes and she melts into the tenderest womanly sympathy,
trying her best to express herself in her crude way_.
ELFIE. There, old girl, don't cry, don't cry. You just sit down here
and let me put my arms around you.
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