Joe (gently) Do you really want to come back here, Kitty?

Kitty I don’t know. I’m not sure. Everything smells different. I don’t know how to feel, or what to think. (Gesturing pathetically.) I know I don’t belong there. It’s what I’ve wanted all my life, but it’s too late. I try to be happy about it, but all I can do is remember everything and cry.

Joe I don’t know what to tell you, Kitty. I didn’t mean to hurt you.

Kitty You haven’t hurt me. You’re the only person who’s ever been good to me. I’ve never known anybody like you. I’m not sure about love any more, but I know I love you, and I know I love Tom.

Joe I love you too, Kitty Duval.

Kitty He’ll want babies. I know he will. I know I will, too. Of course I will. I can’t – (She shakes her head.)

Joe Tom’s a baby himself. You’ll be very happy together. He wants you to ride with him in the truck. Tom’s good for you. You’re good for Tom.

Kitty (like a child) Do you want me to go back and wait for him?

Joe I can’t tell you what to do. I think it would be a good idea, though.

Kitty I wish I could tell you how it makes me feel to be alone. It’s almost worse.

Joe It might take a whole week, Kitty. (He looks at her sharply, at the arrival of an idea.) Didn’t you speak of reading a book? A book of poems?

Kitty I didn’t know what I was saying.

Joe (trying to get up) Of course you knew. I think you’ll like poetry. Wait here a minute, Kitty. I’ll go see if I can find some books.

Kitty All right, Joe.

He walks out of the place, trying very hard not to wobble.

Foghorn. Music. The Newsboy comes in. Looks for Joe. Is brokenhearted because Joe is gone.

Newsboy (to Society Gentleman) Paper?

Gentleman (angry) No.

The Newsboy goes to the Arab.

Newsboy Paper, Mister?

Arab (irritated) No foundation.

Newsboy What?

Arab (very angry) No foundation.

The Newsboy starts out, turns, looks at the Arab, shakes head.

Newsboy No foundation? How do you figure?

Blick and two Cops enter.

Newsboy (to Blick) Paper, Mister?

Blick pushes him aside. The Newsboy goes.

Blick (walking authoritatively about the place, to Harry) Where’s Nick?

Harry He went for a walk.

Blick Who are you?

Harry Harry.

Blick (to the Arab and Wesley) Hey, you. Shut up.

The Arab stops playing the harmonica, Wesley the piano.

Blick (studies Kitty) What’s your name, sister?

Kitty (looking at him) Kitty Duval. What’s it to you?

Her voice is now like it was at the beginning of the play – tough, independent, bitter and hard.

Blick (angry) Don’t give me any of your gutter lip. Just answer my questions.

Kitty You go to hell, you.

Blick (coming over, enraged) Where do you live?

Kitty The New York Hotel. Room 21.