sses to table with lamp, lights
same, and starts back to dresser. Knock at door_.

LAURA. Come in. [ANNIE _enters, and stops_.] That you, Annie?

ANNIE. Yassum.

LAURA. Mrs. Farley wants her rent. There is some money. [_Tosses money
on to table_.] Take it to her.

ANNIE _goes to the table, examines the roll of bills and is palpably
surprised_.

ANNIE. Dey ain't nothin' heah, Miss Laura, but five great big one
hunderd dollah bills.

LAURA. Take two. And look in that upper drawer. You'll find some pawn
tickets there. [ANNIE _complies_.

ANNIE. Yassum. [_Aside_.] Dat's real money--dem's yellow-backs sure.

LAURA. Take the two top ones and go get my lace gown and one of
the hats. The ticket is for a hundred and ten dollars. Keep ten for
yourself, and hurry.

ANNIE. [_Aside_.] Ten for myself--I never see so much money. [_To_
LAURA, _her astonishment nearly overcoming her_.] Yassum, Miss Laura,
yassum. [_She goes toward door, and then turns to_ LAURA.] Ah'm so
mighty glad yo' out all yo' trouble, Miss Laura. I says to Mis' Farley
now--

LAURA. [_Snapping her off_.] Don't--don't. Go do as I tell you and
mind your business. [ANNIE _turns sullenly and walks toward the door.
At that moment_ LAURA _sees the letter, which she has thrown on the
table_.] Wait a minute. I want you to mail a letter. [_By this time
her hair is half down, hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her waist
is open at the throat, collar off, and she has the appearance of a
woman's untidiness when she is at that particular stage of her toilet.
Hands letter to_ ANNIE, _but snatches it away as_ ANNIE _turns to
go. She glances at the letter long and wistfully, and her nerve fails
her_.] Never mind.

ANNIE _exits. Slowly_ LAURA _puts the letter over the flame of the
alcohol lamp and it ignites. As it burns she holds it in her fingers,
and when half consumed throws it into waste-jar, sits on side of bed
watching letter burn, then lies down across bed on her elbows, her
chin in her hands, facing audience. As the last flicker is seen the
curtain slowly descends_.

CURTAIN.

ACT III.

SCENE. _Two months have elapsed. The scene is at_ BROCKTON'S
_apartment in a hotel such as is not over particular concerning
the relations of its tenants. There are a number of these hotels
throughout the theatre district of New York, and, as a rule, one will
find them usually of the same type. The room in which this scene is
placed is that of the general livin