Exiles: A Play in Three Acts

RICHARD ROWAN, a writer. BERTHA. ARCHIE, their son, aged eight years. ROBERT HAND, journalist. BEATRICE JUSTICE, his cousin, music teacher. BRIGID, an old servant of the Rowan family. A FISHWOMAN.
At Merrion and Ranelagh, suburbs of Dublin. Summer of the year 1912.
The drawingroom in Richard Rowan’s house at Merrion, a suburb of Dublin. On the right, forward, a fireplace, before which stands a low screen. Over the mantelpiece a giltframed glass. Further back in the right wall, folding doors leading to the parlour and kitchen. In the wall at the back to the right a small door leading to a study. Left of this a sideboard. On the wall above the sideboard a framed crayon drawing of a young man. More to the left double doors with glass panels leading out to the garden. In the wall at the left a window looking out on the road. Forward in the same wall a door leading to the hall and the upper part of the house. Between the window and door a lady’s davenport stands against the wall. Near it a wicker chair. In the centre of the room a round table. Chairs, upholstered in faded green plush, stand round the table. To the right, forward, a smaller table with a smoking service on it. Near it an easychair and a lounge. Cocoanut mats lie before the fireplace, beside the lounge and before the doors. The floor is of stained planking. The double doors at the back and the folding doors at the right have lace curtains, which are drawn halfway. The lower sash of the window is lifted and the window is hung with heavy green plush curtains. The blind is pulled down to the edge of the lifted lower sash. It is a warm afternoon in June and the room is filled with soft sunlight which is waning.
BRIGID. The mistress and Master Archie is at the bath. They never expected you. Did you send word you were back, Miss Justice?
BEATRICE. No. I arrived just now.
BRIGID. Master Archie got your postcard with the views of Youghal. You’re tired out, I’m sure.
BEATRICE. Rather wet, I think.