The Straw

Excerpt: ...you tell me that secret now? No one'll hear. EILEEN (vehemently). No, no, how could I? Don't speak of it! (A sudden silence falls on all the groups at once. Their eyes, by a common impulse, turn quickly towards the door to the hall.) A WOMAN (nervously--as if this moment's silent pause oppressed her.) Play something, Peters. They ain't coming yet. (Peters, a stupid-looking young fellow with a sly, twisted smirk which gives him the appearance of perpetually winking his eye, detaches himself from a group on the right. All join in with urging exclamations: "Go on, Peters! Go to it! Pedal up, Pete! Give us a rag! That's the boy, Peters!" etc.) PETERS. Sure, if I got time. (He goes to the pianola and puts in a roll. The mingled conversation and laughter bursts forth again as he sits on the bench and starts pedalling.) MURRAY (disgustedly). It's sure good to think I won't have to listen to that old tin-pan being banged much longer! (The music interrupts him--a quick rag. The patients brighten, hum, whistle, sway their heads or tap their feet in time to the tune. Doctor Stanton and Doctor Simms appear in the doorway from the hall. All eyes are turned on them.) STANTON (raising his voice). They all seem to be here, Doctor. We might as well start. (Mrs. Turner, the matron, comes in behind them--a stout, motherly, capable-looking woman with grey hair. She hears Stanton's remark.) MRS. TURNER. And take temperatures after, Doctor? STANTON. Yes, Mrs. Turner. I think that's better to-day. MRS. TURNER. All right, Doctor. (Stanton and the assistant go out. Mrs. Turner advances a step or so into the room and looks from one group of patients to the other, inclining her head and smiling benevolently. All force smiles and nod in recognition of her greeting. Peters, at the pianola, lets the music slow down, glancing questioningly at the matron to see if she is going to order it stopped. Then, encouraged by her smile, his feet pedal harder than ever.) MURRAY....