Now don’t worry! It can’t possibly be the Secret Service.
Hilda
One never knows in war times what to expect. I sometimes feel I am in a foreign country.
(White goes slowly to the door in back and opens it. Wallace, their son, with valise in hand, is standing there, as though he had hesitated to enter.
He is a fine clean-cut young fellow, with his father’s physical endowment and his mother’s spiritual intensity. The essential note he strikes is that of honesty. It is apparent he is under the pressure of a momentous decision which has brought him unexpectedly home from college.)
White
Wallace!
Wallace
(Shaking hands)
Hello! Dad.