Plays by Susan Glaspell - LightNovelsOnl.com
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EMIL: None like it.
MADELINE: And you say--your corn is getting better?
EMIL: Oh, yes--I raise better corn every year now.
MADELINE: (_low_) That's nice. I'll be right out, Emil.
(_He puts the corn back, goes out. From the closet_ MADELINE _takes her hat and wrap. Putting them on, she sees the tennis racket on the table.
She goes to it, takes it up, holds it a moment, then takes it to the closet, puts it carefully away, closes the door behind it. A moment she stands there in the room, as if listening to something. Then she leaves that house_.)
CURTAIN
