hings in the bag, including the life-
preserving suit; and reveals a certain sentiment, not too deep, for
the pillow, the pincushion and the toilet case. At length he strews
everything over the floor, and is surveying the litter with mock
despair when a girl appears on the lawn outside, through one of the
windows. She throws into the room a small parcel wrapped in tissue
paper, and disappears. GEORGE picks up the parcel and looks
surprised, and suddenly runs out of the door, upper right. He
presently returns, dragging the girl by the wrists, she resisting.

MINNIE FARRELL is about twenty one, with black hair and an abundant
vitality. Her costume is a not wholly ineffective imitation of
those bought at a great price at certain metropolitan
establishments. A string of imitation pearls gleams against her
ruddy skin.

MINNIE. Cut it out, George! (Glancing around apprehensively.) Say,
if your mother was to find me here she'd want to send me up to the
reformatory (she frees herself).

GEORGE. Where the deuce did you blow in from? (Regarding her with
admiration.) Is this the little Minnie Farrell who left Foxon Falls two
years ago? Gee whiz! aren't we smart!

MINNIE. Do you like me? I'm making good money, since the war.

GEORGE. Do I like you? What are you doing here?

MINNIE. My brother Bert's out there--he ain't working today. Mr. Pindar
sent for father, and we walked up here with him. Where is he?

GEORGE (nodding toward the study). In there. But what are you doing,
back in Foxon Falls?

MINNIE. Oh, visiting the scenes of my childhood.

GEORGE (tearing open the tissue paper from the parcel). Did you make
these for me? (He holds up a pair of grey woollen wristlets.)

MINNIE. Well, I wanted to do something for a soldier, and when I heard
you was going to France I thought you might as well have 'em.

GEORGE. How did you hear I was going?

MINNIE. Bert told me when I came home yesterday. They say it's cold in
the trenches, and nothing keeps the hands so warm as wristlets. I know,
because I've had 'em on winter mornings, early, when I was going to
work. Will you wear 'em, George?

GEORGE. Will I wear them! (He puts then on his wrists.) I'll never take
them off till the war's over.

MINNIE (pleased). You always were a josher!

GEORGE. Tell me, Minnie, why did you run away from me two years ago?

MINNIE. Run away from you! I left because I couldn't stand this village
any