Vivian. And she’ll pay for hers.
Betty. Indeed she will. No one can coax, hire, threaten or force her to take castor oil at home.
Beatrice. She was a little trump, though, and never tattled a bit. Stood her sermon like a little martyr. Let’s change our society to one where we needn’t sneak, and let Effie join.
Florence. So we will. Now, girls, let’s run, and in the morning we’ll ’fess. We do think a lot of Mrs. Waterman, and we’ll prove it.
Vivian. Think of her sending Dunham to bed. She’d have delighted in dragging us out one by one.
Lillian. Yes, and we’d have been defiant and saucy and in no end of a mess.
Dorothy. And have done it all over as soon as possible, whereas now—
Beatrice. Now we solemnly promise to abjure midnight feasting for a year and a day. Unpin badges. (All do so.) March around and lay them on table. (All do so.) I hereby declare the S. O. M. F. disbanded and solemnly bury the regalia. (Opens top drawer of bureau, puts badges in and covers them, then closes drawer.) Goodnight, sisters in mystery. (The girls all go out but Lillian and Beatrice.)
Beatrice (as curtain falls). I expected she’d feel my pulse to see if I was feverish, my face burned so while she talked.