MISS BAILEY. You suppose? Don't you know? Of course she did. I got to go, too. (Pulling Eileen's sleeve.) Come on. Let's get out of here. I hate this place, don't you?
STANTON (calling the next). Hopper!
FLYNN (shouts to Murray as he is going out to the hall). I hit 'er for a two-bagger, Steve. Come on now, Bo, and bring me home! 'Atta, boy! (Grinning gleefully, he slouches out. Doctor Stanton and all the patients laugh.)
MISS BAILEY (with irritating persistence). Come on, Carmody. You've got to go to bed, too.
EILEEN (at the end of her patience—releasing her arm from the other's grasp). Let me alone, will you? I don't have to go to bed now—not till to-morrow morning.
MISS BAILEY (despairingly, as if she couldn't believe her ears). You don't have to go to bed?
EILEEN. Not now—no.
MISS BAILEY (in a whining rage). Why not? You've been running a temp, too, and I haven't. You must have a pull, that's what! It isn't fair. I'll bet you lost more than I did, too! What right have you got—— Well, I'm not going to bed if you don't. Wait 'n' see!
EILEEN (turning away, revolted). Go away! Leave me alone, please.
STANTON. Lowenstein!