Chains: A Play, in Four Acts

by Elizabeth Baker

MAGGIE. Not Percy and Sybil, I hope. You don’t expect them, until the last minute, do you?

MRS. M. No, dear—of course not.

MAGGIE. I wouldn’t walk the streets this afternoon for any man.

MRS. M. I don’t suppose they find it cold.

MAGGIE. Oh, I daresay they’re sitting in the Park.

MRS. M. I hope they won’t be late for tea. I shall want mine soon.

MAGGIE. I’ll put on the kettle now and when Lil and Charley come, we will have tea and not wait for the others. We’ll have it cosily in here. [She goes out, returning with kettle, which she puts on fire. Sits close to MRS. MASSEY.]

MAGGIE. Mother!

MRS. M. Yes.