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I]

To my house. Not my mother's over there. I will write the address for you. Will you come?

When?

Tonight. Between eight and nine. Come. I will wait for you tonight. And every night. You will?

[Listening.] The gate opened.

[Intensely.] I will wait for you.

[Advancing, takes off his hat.] Good afternoon.

[Rises, with nervous friendliness.] Good afternoon, Richard.

[At the table, taking the roses.] Look what lovely roses Mr Hand brought me.

I am afraid they are overblown.

[Suddenly.] Excuse me for a moment, will you?