Scorn of Women: A Play In Three Acts

by Jack London

(Considering.)

Not later than midnight.

CAPT. EPPINGWELL

Of course, after all, one can't tell within an hour.

Mrs. Eppingwell And she is to be brought here?

CAPT. EPPINGWELL

She'll ride the sled right up to the door. A knock, and then, enter Flossie.

MRS. EPPINGWELL

(With gratified smile.)

And then all our troubles will be over. And now for your make-up. I insist.