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LAURA. [_Tossing magazine on to seat, crosses quickly to_ JOHN, _throws her arms around his neck in the most loving manner._] John!
_As the Act progresses the shadows cross the Pa.s.s, and golden light streams across the lower hills and tops the snow-clad peaks. It becomes darker and darker, the lights fade to beautiful opalescent hues, until, when the curtain falls on the act, with_ JOHN _and_ WILL _on the scene, it is pitch dark, a faint glow coming out of the door.
Nothing else can be seen but the glow of the ash on the end of each man's cigar as he puffs it in silent meditation on their conversation._
JOHN. Well, dear?
LAURA. Are you going to be cross with me?
JOHN. Why?
LAURA. Because he came?
JOHN. Brockton?
LAURA. Yes.
JOHN. You didn't know, did you?
LAURA. Yes, I did.
JOHN. That he was coming?
LAURA. He wired me when he reached Kansas City.
JOHN. Does he know?
LAURA. About us?
JOHN. Yes.
LAURA. I've told him.
JOHN. When?
LAURA. To-day.
JOHN. Here?
LAURA. Yes.
JOHN. With what result?
LAURA. I think it hurt him.
JOHN. Naturally.
LAURA. More than I had any idea it would.
JOHN. I'm sorry. [_Sits in armchair_.
LAURA. He cautioned me to be very careful and to be sure I knew my way.
JOHN. That was right.
LAURA _gets a cus.h.i.+on in each hand off seat; crosses down to left of armchair, throws one cus.h.i.+on on ground, then the other on top of it, and kneels beside his chair. Piano in house playing a Chopin Nocturne_.
LAURA. John.
JOHN. Yes.
LAURA. We've been very happy all summer.
JOHN. Very.
LAURA. [_Rises, sits on left arm of chair, her arm over back_.] And this thing has gradually been growing on us?
JOHN. That's true.
LAURA. I didn't think that, when I came out here to Denver to play in a little stock company, it was going to bring me all this happiness, but it has, hasn't it?
JOHN. Yes.
LAURA. [_Changing her position, sits on his lap, arms around his neck_.] And now the season's over and there is nothing to keep me in Colorado, and I've got to go back to New York to work.
JOHN. I know; I've been awake all night thinking about it.
LAURA. Well?
JOHN. Well?
LAURA. What are we going to do?
JOHN. Why, you've got to go, I suppose.
LAURA. Is it good-bye?
JOHN. For a while, I suppose--it's good-bye.
LAURA. What do you mean by a while?
[LAURA _turns_ JOHN'S _face to her, looks at him searchingly_.
JOHN. Until [_Piano plays crescendo, then softens down_.] I get money enough together, and am making enough to support you, then come and take you out of the show business and make you Mrs. Madison.
LAURA _tightens her arm around his neck, her cheek goes close to his own, and all the wealth of affection the woman is capable of at times is shown. She seems more like a dainty little kitten purring close to its master. Her whole thought and idea seem to be centred on the man whom she professes to love._
LAURA. John, that is what I want above everything else.
JOHN. But, Laura, we must come to some distinct understanding before we start to make our plans. We're not children.
