head?

MRS. BRAMSON: No, dear, just wheel me----

DAN (_rising_): I think you'll be more comfortable with a cushion.
(_Rising, humming_) "I'm a pretty little feller, everybody knows ...
dunno what to call me ..."

_He goes deliberately across, humming, and picks up a large black
cushion from the sofa. His hands close on the cushion, and he stands
silent a moment. He moves slowly back to the other side of her; he
stands looking at her, his back three-quarters to the audience and his
face hidden: he is holding the cushion in both hands._

MRS. BRAMSON _shakes herself out of sleep and looks at him._

MRS. BRAMSON: What a funny look on your face, dear. Smiling like
that.... (_Foolishly_) You look so kind ...

_He begins to raise the cushion slowly._

So kind ... (_Absently_) What are you going to do with that
cushion?...

_The lights dim gradually into complete darkness, and the music grows
into a thunderous crescendo._



SCENE II