[_Rises, crosses to centre_.
LAURA. Maybe--maybe if he knew all about it--the suffering--he
wouldn't blame me.
ELFIE. Who--the good man who wanted to lead you to the good life
without even a bread-basket for an advance-agent? Huh!
LAURA. Still he doesn't know how desperately poor I am.
ELFIE. He knows you're out of work, don't he?
LAURA. [_Turning to_ ELFIE.] Not exactly. I've let him think that I'm
getting along all right.
ELFIE. Then you're a chump. Hasn't he sent you anything?
LAURA. He hasn't anything to send.
ELFIE. Well, what does he think you're going to live on?--asphalt
croquettes with conversation sauce?
LAURA. I don't know--I don't know. [_Sobbing_.
ELFIE. [_Crosses to_ LAURA, _puts arms around her_.] Don't be foolish,
dearie. You know there is somebody waiting for you--somebody who'll be
good to you and get you out of this mess.
LAURA. You mean Will Brockton? [_Looking up_.
ELFIE. Yes.
LAURA. Do you know where he is?
ELFIE. Yes.
LAURA. Well?
ELFIE. You won't get sore again if I tell you, will you?
LAURA. No--why? [_Rises_.
ELFIE. He's downstairs--waiting in the car. I promised to tell him
what you said.
LAURA. Then it was all planned, and--and--
ELFIE. Now, dearie, I knew you were up against it, and I wanted to
bring you two together. He's got half of the Burgess shows, and if
you'll only see him everything will be fixed.
LAURA. When does he want to see me?
ELFIE.
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