A pair of gloves is
thrown on top of the pier-glass. The curtains in the bay-window are
half drawn, and the light shades are half drawn down the windows, so
that when the curtain goes up the place is in a rather dim light.
On the table are the remains of a breakfast, which is served in a
box-like tray such as is used in hotels._ LAURA _is discovered sitting
at right of table, her hair a bit untidy. She has on a very expensive
negligee gown._ WILL, _in a business suit, is at the other side of the
table, and both have evidently just about concluded their breakfast
and are reading the newspapers while they sip their coffee._ LAURA
_is intent in the scanning of her "Morning Telegraph," while_ WILL _is
deep in the market reports of the "Journal of Commerce," and in each
instance these things must be made apparent._ WILL _throws down the
paper rather impatiently._
WILL. Have you seen the _Sun_, Laura?
LAURA. No.
WILL. Where is it?
LAURA. I don't know.
WILL. [_In a loud voice._] Annie, Annie! [_A pause._] Annie! [_In an
undertone, half directed to_ LAURA.] Where the devil is that nigger?
LAURA. Why, I suppose she's at breakfast.
WILL. Well, she ought to be here.
LAURA. Did it ever occur to you that she has got to eat just the same
as you have?
WILL. She's your servant, isn't she?
LAURA. My maid.
WILL. Well, what have you got her for,--to eat or to wait on you?
Annie!
LAURA. Don't be so cross.
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