Enter Hepsy Sawyer, C. She is about thirty-five, tall and wiry. She wears a man’s oil coat and hat.
Hep. (as she enters). Well, I should say! (Slams the door.) Ain’t this a night though?
Cyn. It certainly is. Are you crazy, Hepsy? Or is somebody sick? Whatever on earth brought you out in all this storm?
Hep. You, Cynthy! (Removes coat and hat.) I thought I might be able to help you some an’ I couldn’t bear to think of you alone here on your last night.
Cyn. (taking hat and coat). That’s more’n kind of you, Hepsy. There’s a roaring fire in the kitchen stove. I’ll hang your coat up to dry, and put on some water to make a cup of tea.
(Exit, R. Hep. walks to fireplace and stands warming her hands.)
Reënter Cyn., R.
Hep. You are really goin’ in the morning, Cynth?
Cyn. (energetically). I really am.
Hep. Well, how you can be cheerful about it beats me! How do you know you’ll like it over to Falmouth and how do you know as you’ll get along with the people you’re going to keep house for?