MURRAY (_frowning_). Maybe, in their own way. But what's love without a glimmer of understanding--a nuisance! They have never seen the real me and never have wanted to--that's all. EILEEN (_as if to herself_). What is--the real you? (Murray _kicks at the stones impatiently without answering._ Eileen _hastens to change the subject._) And then you'll go to New York? MURRAY (_interested, at once_). Yes. You bet. EILEEN. And write more? MURRAY. Not in New York, no. I'm going there to take a vacation, and live, really enjoy myself for a while. I've enough money for that as it is, and if the other stories you typed sell--I'll be as rich as Rockefeller. I might even travel---- No, I've got to make good with my best stuff first. I'll save the travelling as a reward, a prize to gain. That'll keep me at it. I know what I'll do. When I've had enough of New York, I'll rent a place in the country--some old farmhouse--and live alone there and work. (_Lost in his own plans--with pleasure._) That's the right idea, isn't it? EILEEN (_trying to appear enthused_). It ought to be fine for your work. (_After a pause._) They're fine, those stories you wrote here. They're--so much like you. I'd know it was you wrote them even if--I didn't know. MURRAY (_pleased_). Wait till you read the others I'm going to do! (_After a slight pause--with a good-natured grin._) Here I am talking about myself again! Why don't you call me down when I start that drivel? But you don't know how good it is to have your dreams coming true. It'd make an egotist out of anyone. EILEEN (_sadly_). No. I don't know. But I love to hear you talk of yours. MURRAY (_with an embarrassed laugh_). Thanks. Well, I've certainly told you all of them. You're the only one---- (_He stops and abruptly changes the subject._) You said in your note that you had something important to tell me. (_He sits down beside her, crossing his legs._) Is it about your interview with Old Mrs. Grundy this afternoon? EILEEN. No, that didn't amount to anything. She seemed mad because I told her so little. I think she guessed I only told her what I did so she'd let me stay up, maybe--your last day,--and to keep her from thinking what she did--about us. MURRAY (_quickly, as if he wishes to avoid this subject_). What is it you wanted to tell me, then? EILEEN (_sadly_). It doesn't seem so important now, somehow. I suppose it was silly of me to drag you out here, just for that. It can't mean anything to you--much. MURRAY (_encouragingly_). How do you know it can't? EILEEN (_slowly_). I only thought--you might like to know. MURRAY (_interestedly_). Know what? What is it? If I can help---- EILEEN. No. (_After a moment's hesitation._) I wrote to him this afternoon. MURRAY. Him? EILEEN. The letter you've been advising me to write. MURRAY (_as if the knowledge of this alarmed him--haltingly_). You mean--Fred Nicholls? EILEEN. Yes. MURRAY (_after a pause--uncomfortably_). You mean--you broke it all off?