A clock strikes six.
The young lady turns and looks at her watch. She rises with an
air of one who waits, and is almost at the end of her patience.
She is a pretty girl, slender, fair, and intelligent looking,
nicely but not expensively dressed, evidently not a smart idler.
With a sigh of weary resignation she comes to the draughtsman's
chair; sits down; and begins to read Shakespeare. Presently the
book sinks to her lap; her eyes close; and she dozes into a
slumber.
An elderly womanservant comes in from the hall with three
unopened bottles of rum on a tray. She passes through and
disappears in the pantry without noticing the young lady. She
places the bottles on the shelf and fills her tray with empty
bottles. As she returns with these, the young lady lets her book
drop, awakening herself, and startling the womanservant so that
she all but lets the tray fall.
THE WOMANSERVANT. God bless us! [The young lady picks up the book
and places it on the table]. Sorry to wake you, miss, I'm sure;
but you are a stranger to me. What might you be waiting here for
now?
THE YOUNG LADY. Waiting for somebody to show some signs of
knowing that I have been invited here.
THE WOMANSERVANT. Oh, you're invited, are you? And has nobody
come? Dear! dear!
THE YOUNG LADY.
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