ALICE HEMINGWAY. [Running over letters.] None for you, Ned. [Selecting
two letters for herself.] Tradesmen. [Handing remainder of letters to
MAID.] And three for Loretta. [Speaking to MAID.] Put them on the
table, Josie.

[MAID puts letters on table to left front, and makes exit to left.]

NED. [With shade of jealousy.] Loretta seems to have quite a
correspondence.

ALICE HEMINGWAY. [With a sigh.] Yes, as I used to when I was a girl.

NED. But hers are family letters.

ALICE HEMINGWAY. Yes, I did not notice any from Billy.

NED. [Faintly.] Billy?

ALICE HEMINGWAY. [Nodding.] Of course she has told you about him?

NED. [Gasping.] She has had lovers . . . already?

ALICE HEMINGWAY. And why not? She is nineteen.

NED. [Haltingly.] This . . . er . . . this Billy . . . ?

ALICE HEMINGWAY. [Laughing and putting her hand reassuringly on his
arm.] Now don't be alarmed, poor, tired philosopher. She doesn't love
Billy at all.