ma best for yuh, Miss Laura, yes, Ah have. Ah
jest been with yuh ev'ry moment of ma time, an' [_Places suit-case on
table; crosses to centre._] Ah worked for yuh an' Ah loved yuh, an' Ah
doan' wan' to be left 'ere all alone in dis town 'ere New York. [LAURA
_turns to door;_ ANNIE _stoops, grabs up ribbon, hides it behind her
back._] Ah ain't the kind of cullud lady knows many people. Can't yuh
take me along wid yuh, Miss Laura?--yuh all been so good to me.

LAURA. Why, I told you to [_Crosses to door, looks out, returns
disappointed._] stay here and get your things together [ANNIE _hides
ribbon in front of her waist._], and then Mr. Brockton will probably
want you to do something. Later, I think he'll have you pack up, just
as soon as he finds I'm gone. I've got the address that you gave me.
I'll let you know if you can come on.

ANNIE. [_Suddenly._] Ain't yuh goin' to give me anything at all jes'
to remembuh yuh by? Ah've been so honest--

LAURA. Honest?

ANNIE. Honest, Ah have.

LAURA. You've been about as honest as most coloured [_Crosses to
table; gets suit-case; crosses to sofa end puts suit-case on it._]
girls are who work for women in the position that I am in. You haven't
stolen enough to make me discharge you, but I've seen what you've
taken. [_Sits on end of sofa facing left._

ANNIE. Now, Miss Laura.

LAURA. Don't try to fool me. What you've got you're welcome to, but
for heaven's sake don't prate around here about loyalty and honesty.
I'm sick of it.

ANNIE. Ain't yuh goin' to give me no recommendation?

LAURA. [_Impatiently looking around the room._] What good would my
recommendation do? You can always go and get another position with
people who've lived the way I've lived, and my recommendation to the
other kind wouldn't amount to much.

ANNIE. [_Sits on trunk._] Ah can just see whah Ah'm goin',--back to
dat boa'din'-house in 38th Street fo' me. [_Crying._

LAURA. Now shut your noise. I don't want to hear any more. I've given
you twenty-five dollars for a present. I think that's enough.

[ANNIE _assumes a most aggrieved appearance._

ANNIE. Ah know, but twenty-five dollars ain't a home, and I'm [_Rises,
crosses to rubbish heap, picks up old slippers and hat, puts hat on
head as she goes out, looks into pier-glass._] losin' my home. Dat's
jest my luck--every time I save enough money to buy my weddin' clothes
to get married I lose my job.

[_Exit._

LAURA. I wonder where John is. We'll n