SUSAN GLASPELL
MRS. HALE: (Her eyes fixed on loaf of bread outside bread-box. Moves slowly toward it) She was going to put this in there. (Picks up loaf, then abruptly drops it. In a manner of returning to familiar things) It's a shame about her fruit. I wonder if it's all gone. (Gets up on a chair and looks) I think there's some here that is all right, Mrs. Peters. Yes—here; (holding it toward the window) this is cherries, too. (Looking again) I declare I believe that's the only one. (Gets down, bottle in her hand. Goes to sink and wipes it off on the outside) She'll feel awful bad after all her hard work in the hot weather. I remember the afternoon I put up my cherries last summer. (Puts bottle on table. With a sigh starts to sit down in rocking-chair. Before she is seated realizes what chair it is; with a slow look at it, steps back. The chair which she has touched rocks back and forth)
MRS. PETERS: Well, I must get those things from the from room closet. (Starts to door left, looks into the other room, steps back) You coming with me, Mrs. Hale? You could help me carry them. (Both women go out; reappear, Mrs. Peters carrying a dress and skirt, Mrs. Hale following with a pair of shoes)
MRS. PETERS: My, its cold in there. (Puts clothes on table, goes up to stove)
MRS. HALE: (Holding up skirt and examining it) Wright was close. I think maybe that's why she kept so much to herself. She didn't even belong to the Ladies' Aid. I suppose she felt she couldn't do her part, and then you don't enjoy things when you feel shabby. She used to wear
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