LINDA [lifting her hand slowly to the window shade]: Jim, when I pull this window shade down, do you know what I’m really doing? I’m shutting out the whole world. Mr. Wescott was right, Jim. We have got years and years.

JIM [with choking bitterness]: Of what?

LINDA [pulling the shade slowly down]: Of each other!

JIM [tossing impatiently on the couch]: Each other! Each other! Do you think we can EAT each other!

LINDA [astonished]: Jim!

JIM: Come down to earth, woman! You can’t stay up in the clouds all your life. . . .

LINDA: It’s not the clouds I’m up in, Jim—it’s our magic tower!

JIM [brutally]: Magic tower, boloney! It’s Mrs. O’Fallon’s attic that we’re up in, Linda! Mrs. O’Fallon’s lousy, leaking attic! And we’re five weeks behind on the rent! Do you know what’s going to happen to us, Linda? We’re going to get kicked out on our ears, that’s what!

LINDA: I thought you said—in this state of enchantment—in which we lived—nothing ever happened—nothing ever mattered except our having each other!

JIM: Those were pretty words!

LINDA: You didn’t mean them? [There is a long silence.] I see—just words! [She goes slowly back to the window, gives the cord a jerk, and the curtain flies up.]

JIM: What was that?

LINDA [dully]: Just the shade flying up. [She turns toward him again. There is a faint, inscrutable smile on her lips.] How old are you, Jim?

JIM [sleepily]: Twenty-one. Why? [Crossly.] What’s that got to do with the situation?

LINDA [softly]: Twenty-one—how marvelously young that is! I’m twenty-six, Jim. You didn’t know that?

JIM: Gosh, Linda! You say such trivial things!

LINDA: I know. I have a terribly trivial mind . . . poor Jim. You’re all tired out. And soaking wet. That long walk through the rain. All for nothing. Here. I’ll put the screen in front of the bed. You can undress and have a nap. I still have some ironing to do. After a while you can go down and get a bite to eat from Mrs. O’Fallon! I’m sure she’ll be glad to let you have something.

JIM [sleepily]: She always used to be before I got . . .

LINDA: Yes, I know. Before you got yourself tied up with a dame! Oh, well. . . . [She laughs softly.] There’s a price for everything! Nothing comes for nothing, Jim. You’ll learn that some day. [With the screen drawn in front of Jim’s couch, Linda hastily throws her things into the new traveling bag. She darts about the room with an almost frantic rapidity.]

JIM: My God, what a racket you’re making! What are you doing?

LINDA: Nothing much. Just straightening things up a little. I’m nearly through now.

JIM: And that light’s in my eyes. I can’t sleep.

LINDA: Just a moment, darling. I’ll turn it out. [Goes over to window with traveling bag in her hand. Looks out, shading her eyes with one hand.] It’s clearing up, Jim. The rain has stopped. It’s going to be a wonderful night. Oh, my! There’s a funny little slice of a moon coming out. Right over the Fixit Garage. It looks like a yellow dancing slipper— Jim, tomorrow’s going to be an awfully swell day! Almost like spring, I imagine. Those awful wet spots on the floor will dry up— when the sun comes out—it will be very nice in here then—I’m sure it must be much healthier to live in a dry, bright attic—than a magic tower with a leaking roof!