(Postman’s double knock heard off L.)
(Rushing for bedroom door.) The doctor! The doctor! (The blanket is left in arm-chair.)
TULLY. It isn’t—it isn’t the doctor. It’s the postman. It’s the postman. I know his knock.
(JOHN goes out of door L., returns with a letter and reads it C.)
JOHN (speaking off). Yes! You’re right. There’s a letter in the box. (Enters.)
TULLY. I told you it was only the postman. Do come and play this nap out. I’ve got such beautiful cards!
JOHN. Hang your nap—this is serious. It’s from little Mamie Scott.
TULLY. Mamie Scott? Who’s she?
JOHN. You know—your wife!
TULLY. Oh, don’t start that again, please! (Rises.)