Daniel
Good-night!
[Daniel closes the door behind him.]
the curtain falls.
ACT III.
Scene: "Overcoat Hall." New York.
This room—not too large—was the "front parlor" of a comfortable residence in down-town New York. Business, of the least attractive sort, and the slums long since have occupied the district. The building is a red-brick, low-stoop, English-basement house. The rear wall, which is the front of the dwelling, is pierced by two lofty windows, through which are seen the top of an iron railing, and a row of similar structures, fallen into decay, across the street. Between these windows, upon a low marble shelf, now holding a tray of cups and saucers, originally was a tall, gold-framed mirror. Over this hangs a blackboard, upon which has been chalked: "And so, to the end of history, hate shall breed hate, murder shall breed murder, until the gods create a race that can understand." Beneath the right window is a big radiator. Down stage R. are folding doors, partly open, or a large single door—whichever shall prove advisable. These—or this—lead to the main hall, and so to the basement, or upstairs, or to the front door, which slams solidly whenever it is closed. Left is a decrepit, white-marble mantel, with a "fake" fireplace. In front of this—in a jog, perhaps—a small platform, of the kind used in public schools. Upon this, a small table and a chair. Down stage of it, a geographical globe, suspended over which a wall-pad informing us that today is Wednesday. Above the mantel-shelf, another blackboard, upon which are some simple calculations, and the axiom, "Luck is work." In the center of the room is a long library table, with a brown cover, and with numerous kitchen chairs about it. On the table a reading lamp, a bowl of yellow, purple and brown chrysanthemums; and numerous books and magazines. Gilchrist has succeeded in making the old place comfortable and inviting. It is a combination of club, settlement house, school, reading room and lecture hall. Brown linoleum covers the floor, and there are brown denim curtains over the windows. A history chart hangs on the wall. There are book-shelves, and two or three big, comfortable chairs; a phonograph and, perhaps, even a motion picture machine.
At Rise: It is just after seven o'clock on a brisk evening in late October, 1920.