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[Coming to himself—with a groan—shamefacedly]

Don’t mind me. I’m not myself, Nina. I’ve been through hell!

[He seems about to sob—then abruptly springs to his feet, wildly]

It’s this room! I can’t stand this room! There’s something repulsive about it!

[Soothingly]

I know it’s ugly, Charlie. I haven’t had a chance to fix it up yet. We’ve been too broke.

[Confusedly]

Oh, it’s all right. I’m ugly, too! Where’s Sam?

[Eagerly]

Right upstairs. Go on up. He’ll be delighted to see you.

[Vaguely]

Very well.

[He goes to the door, then stops mournfully]

But from what I saw on that visit to his home, he doesn’t love his mother much. I don’t think he’ll understand, Nina. He never writes to her, does he?

[Uneasily]

No—I don’t know.