EILEEN (_with a smile, indulgently_). You're a funny person. (_Then with a superior, motherly air._) No wonder you couldn't understand how badly I feel. (_With a tender smile._) I've four of them--my brothers and sisters--though they're not what you'd call babies, except to me. Billy is fourteen, Nora eleven, Tom ten, and even little Mary is eight. I've been a mother to them now for a whole year--ever since our mother died (_Sadly._) And I don't know how they'll ever get along while I'm away. MURRAY (_cynically_). Oh, they'll--(_He checks what he was going to say and adds lamely_)--get along somehow. EILEEN (_with the same superior tone_). It's easy for you to say that. You don't know how children grow to depend on you for everything. You're not a woman. MURRAY (_with a grin_). Are you? (_Then with a chuckle._) You're as old as the pyramids, aren't you? I feel like a little boy. Won't you adopt me, too? EILEEN (_flushing, with a shy smile_). Someone ought to. (_Quickly changing the subject._) Do you know, I can't get over what you said about hating your work so. I should think it would be wonderful--to be able to write things. MURRAY. My job had nothing to do with writing. To write--really write--yes, that's something worth trying for. That's what I've always meant to have a stab at. I've run across ideas enough for stories--that sounded good to me, anyway. (_With a forced, laugh._) But--like everything else--I never got down to it. I started one or two--but--either I thought I didn't have the time or---- (_He shrugs his shoulders._) EILEEN. Well, you've plenty of time now, haven't you? MURRAY (_instantly struck by this suggestion_). You mean--I could write--up here? (_She nods. His face lights up with enthusiasm._) Say! That is an idea! Thank you! I'd never have had sense enough to have thought of that myself. (Eileen _flushes with pleasure._) Sure there's time--nothing but time up here---- EILEEN. Then you seriously think you'll try it? MURRAY (_determinedly_). Yes. Why not? I've got to try and do something real some time, haven't I? I've no excuse not to, now. My mind isn't sick. EILEEN (_excitedly_). That'll be wonderful! MURRAY (_confidently_). Listen. I've had ideas for a series of short stories for the last couple of years--small town experiences, some of them actual. I know that life--too darn well. I ought to be able to write about it. And if I can sell one--to the _Post_, say--I'm sure they'd take the others, too. And then--I should worry! It'd be easy sailing. But you must promise to help--play critic for me--read them and tell me where they're rotten. EILEEN (_pleased, but protesting_). Oh, no, I'd never dare. I don't know anything---- MURRAY. Yes, you do. You're the public. And you started me off on this thing--if I'm really starting at last. So you've got to back me up now. (_Suddenly._) Say, I wonder if they'd let me have a typewriter up here?