JIM. Lots of it.
LAURA. That's good. Tell me.
JIM. It's bad luck. Guess you don't want to hear.
LAURA. I'm sorry. Where have you been?
JIM. I kind o' felt around up at Burgess's office. I thought I might get a job there, but he put me off until to-morrow. Somehow those fellows always do business to-morrow.
[Hurdy-gurdy dies out.
LAURA. Yes, and there's always to-day to look after.
JIM. I'm ready to give up. I've tramped Broadway for nine weeks until every piece of flagstone gives me the laugh when it sees my feet coming. Got a letter from the missis this morning. The kids got to have some clothes, there's measles in the town, and mumps in the next village. I've just got to raise some money or get some work, or the first thing you'll know I'll be hanging around Central Park on a dark night with a club.
LAURA. I know just how you feel. Sit down, Jim. [JIM crosses and sits in chair right of table.] It's pretty tough for me [Offers JIM glass of milk; he refuses; takes crackers.], but it must be a whole lot worse for you with a wife and kids.
JIM. Oh, if a man's alone he can generally get along—turn his hand to anything; but a woman—