Larrabee. Well, I'll try something else! (Turns and goes to archway.)
Madge (quick, half whisper). Jim! (Larabee turns, Madge approaches him.) Remember—nothing that'll show! No marks! We might get into trouble.
Larrabee (going doggedly). I'll look out for that.
(Exit Larrabee, running upstairs in haste. As Madge looks after him with a trifle of anxiety standing in archway, enter Térèse up C. She is a quiet looking French maid with a pleasant face. She stands near the door up C. Madge turns into the room and sees her. Stands an instant. She moves towards C. and seats herself in the arm-chair L.C.)
Madge Come here.
(Térèse comes down a little way—with slight hesitation.)
What is it?
Térèse. Meester Judson said I vas to come.
Madge. I told Judson to arrange with you himself.
Térèse. He could not, madame. I do not veesh longer to re-main.
Madge. What is it? You must give me some reason!
Térèse. It is zat I wish to go.
Madge. You've been here months, and have made no complaint.
Térèse. Ah, madame—it is not so before! It is now beginning zat I do not like.
Madge (rising). What? What is it you do not like #
Térèse: (with some little spirit but low voice). I do not like eet, Madame—eet—here—zis place—what you do—ze young lady you have up zere! I cannot remain to see! (Indicating above.) Eet eez not well! I cannot remain to see!
Madge. You know nothing about it! The young lady is ill. She is not right here—(touching forehead). She is a great trouble to us, but we take every care of her, and treat her with the utmost kindness and———
(A piercing scream, as if muffled by something, heard in distant part of house above.)
(Music on scream. Very pianissimo. Agitato.)
(Pause. Both motionless. Térèse does not assume a horrified expression; she simply stands motionless. After quite a pause, Mrs. Faulkner comes down stairway rapidly, a white-haired lady, dressed in an old black gown.)
Mrs. Faulkner. My child! my child! They're hurting my child.
