LAURA. [_Looking_.] Yes, that's John. [_She waves her handkerchief,
and putting one hand to her mouth cries_:] Hello!

JOHN. [_Off stage with the effect as if he was on the road winding up
toward the house_.] Hello yourself!

LAURA. [_Same effect_.] Hurry up, you're late.

JOHN. [_Same effect, a little louder_.] Better late than never.

LAURA. [_Same effect_.] Hurry up.

JOHN. [_Little louder_.] Not with this horse.

LAURA. [_To_ WILL, _with enthusiastic expression_.] Now, Will, does he
look like a yellow reporter?

WILL. [_With a sort of sad smile_.] He _is_ a good-looking chap.

LAURA. [_Looking down again at_ JOHN.] Oh, he's just simply more than
that. [_Turns quickly to_ WILL.] Where's Mrs. Williams?

WILL. [_Motioning with thumb toward left side of ranch house_.]
Inside, I guess, up to her neck in bridge.

LAURA. [_Goes hurriedly over to door_.] Mrs. Williams! Oh, Mrs.
Williams!

MRS. WILLIAMS. [_Heard off stage_.] What is it, my dear?