[_Rises, and crosses to bureau._

WILL. You didn't touch anything?

LAURA. No.

WILL. I guess you're on the safe side. It was a great old party,
though, wasn't it?

LAURA. Did you think so?

WILL. Oh, for that sort of a blow-out. Not too rough, but just a
little easy. I like them at night and I hate them in the morning. [_He
picks up the paper and commences to glance it over in a casual manner,
not interrupting his conversation._] Were you bored?

LAURA. Yes; always at things like that.

WILL. Well, you don't have to go.

LAURA. You asked me.

WILL. Still, you could say no. [LAURA _picks up paper, puts it on
table and crosses back to bureau._

LAURA. But you asked me.

WILL. What did you go for if you didn't want to?

LAURA. _You_ wanted me to.

WILL. I don't quite get you.

LAURA. Well, Will, you have all my time when I'm not in the theatre,
and you can do with it just what you please. You pay for it. I'm
working for you.

WILL. Is that all I've got,--just your time?

LAURA. [_Wearily._] That and the rest. [LAURA _crosses up to desk,
gets "part," crosses to sofa, turning pages of "part."_] I guess you
know. [_Crosses to sofa and sits._

WILL. [_Looking at her curiously._] Down in the mouth, eh? I'm sorry.

LAURA. No, only if you want me to be frank, I'm a little tired. You
may not believe it, but I work awfully hard over at the theatre.
Burgess will tell you that. I know I'm not so very good as an actress,
but I try to be. [LAURA _lies down on sofa._] I'd like to succeed,
myself. They're very patient with me. Of course they've got to
be,--that's another thing you're paying for, but I don't seem to get
along except this way.

WILL. Oh, don't get sentimental. If you're going to bring up that sort
of talk, Laura, do it sometime when I haven't got a hang-over, and
then don't forget talk never does count for much.

LAURA _crosses up to mirror, picks up hat from box, puts it on, looks
in mirror. She turns around and looks at him steadfastly for a minute.
During this entire scene, from the time the curtain rises, she must in
a way indicate a premonition of an approaching catastrophe, a feeling,
vague but nevertheless palpable, that something is going to happen.
She must hold this before her audience so that she can show to them,
without showing to him, the disgust she feels._ LAURA _has tasted
of the privations of self-sacrifice during her struggle, and she has
weakly surrendered and is unable to