MISS HOWARD. Fine! Be sure to!
(_She goes out._ Murray _walks to porch door and steps out. He
finds_ Eileen's _eyes waiting for him. As their eyes meet she
gasps involuntarily and he stops short in his tracks. For a
moment they remain looking at each other in silence._)
EILEEN (_dropping her eyes--faintly_). Stephen.
MURRAY (_much moved, strides to her bedside and takes her hands
awkwardly_). Eileen. (_Then after a second's pause, in which he
searches her face and is shocked by the change illness has
made--anxiously._) How are you feeling, Eileen? (_He grows confused
by her gaze and his eyes shift from hers, which search his face with
wild yearning._)
EILEEN (_forcing a smile_). Oh, I'm all right. (_Eagerly._) But you,
Stephen? How are you? (_Excitedly._) Oh, it's good to see you again!
(_Her eyes continue fixed on his face pleadingly, questioningly._)
MURRAY (_haltingly_). And it's sure great to see you again, Eileen.
(_He releases her hand and turns away._) And I'm fine and dandy. I
look a little done up, I guess, but that's only the result of too much
New York.
(Eileen, _sensing from his manner that whatever she has hoped for
from his visit is not to be, sinks back on the pillows, shutting
her eyes hopelessly, and cannot control a sigh of pain._)
MURRAY (_turning to her anxiously_). What's the matter, Eileen? You're
not in pain, are you?
EILEEN (_wearily_). No.
MURRAY. You haven't been feeling badly lately, have you? Your letters
suddenly stopped--not a line for the past three weeks--and I----
EILEEN (_bitterly_). I got tired of writing and never getting any
answer, Stephen.
MURRAY (_shame-faced_). Come, Eileen, it wasn't as bad as that. You'd
think I never--and I did write, didn't I?