Yes--well, well, oh yes. It's getting
late. What is it with you, father?
ALICK. I'm ten forty-two.
JAMES. I'm ten-forty.
DAVID. Ten forty-two.
[They wind up their watches.]
MAGGIE. It's high time we were bedded. [She puts her hands on their
shoulders lovingly, which is the very thing they have been trying to
avoid.] You're very kind to me.
DAVID. Havers.
ALICK. Havers.
JAMES [but this does not matter]. Havers.
MAGGIE [a little dolefully]. I'm a sort of sorry for the young man,
David.
DAVID. Not at all. You'll be the making of him. [She lifts the two
volumes.] Are you taking the books to your bed, Maggie?
MAGGIE. Yes. I don't want him to know things I don't know myself.
[She departs with the books; and ALICK and DAVID, the villains, now
want to get away from each other.]
ALICK. Yes--yes. Oh yes--ay, man--it is so--umpha. You'll lift the
big coals off, David.
[He wanders away to his spring mattress. DAVID removes the coals.]
JAMES [who would like to sit down and have an argy-bargy]. It's a
most romantical affair. [But he gets no answer.] I wonder how it'll
turn out? [No answer.] She's queer, Maggie. I wonder how some clever
writers has never noticed how queer women are. It's my belief you
could write a whole book about them. [DAVID remains obdurate.] It was
very noble of her to tell him she's twenty-six. [Muttering as he too
wanders away.
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