Blanche. How many would like a laurel party? Raise your hands.
[All raise their hands.]
Sophia. Let's appoint a committee to get it up.
Christabel. Do you suppose we could let Alice in on that?
Annette. Oh, bother that tiresome girl! No, we can't.
[A knock on the door. All hush, and sit up very straight. Helen unlocks and opens the door. An Old Woman enters. She stoops, leans heavily on a cane, and limps. She has on a long black cloak, and wears a large poke bonnet. Adjusting glasses on her nose, she scans the club members, then hobbles up to the President.]
Old Woman. Good-afternoon. Might I sit down and visit you a few minutes? (Helen places a chair.) Thank you, dearie. You see, it's hard for me to stand. I'm pretty lame. But I can get about very well. Oh yes; very well, considering. You don't know me, I suppose?
Blanche. I think not. Perhaps you have got into the wrong place?
Old Woman. Isn't this the Ninepin Club?
Blanche. Yes.