MRS MARCH drinks off her fourth glass of brandy. A peculiar whistle is heard through the open door, and FAITH starts forward.
JOHNNY. Stand still!
FAITH. I—I must go.
MARY. Johnny—let her!
FAITH. There's a friend waiting for me.
JOHNNY. Let her wait! You're not fit to go out to-night.
MARY. Johnny! Really! You're not the girl's Friendly Society!
JOHNNY. You none of you care a pin's head what becomes of her. Can't you see she's on the edge? The whistle is heard again, but fainter.
FAITH. I'm not in prison now.
JOHNNY. [Taking her by the arm] All right! I'll come with you.