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MURRAY (_savagely_). d.a.m.n!
(Doctor Stanton _writes the figures in his book, glances sharply at_ Eileen, _and then nods significantly to_ Mrs. Turner _who is standing beside him._)
STANTON (_calling the next_). Miss Doeffler.
(_Another woman comes to be weighed._)
MRS. TURNER. Miss Carmody! Will you come here a moment, please?
EILEEN (_her face growing very pale_). Yes, Mrs. Turner.
(_The heads of the different groups bend together. Their eyes follow_ Eileen _as they whisper._ Mrs. Turner _leads her down front, left. Behind them the weighing of the women continues briskly. The great majority have gained. Those who have not have either remained stationary or lost a negligible fraction of a pound. So, as the weighing proceeds, the general air of smiling satisfaction rises among the groups of women. Some of them, their ordeal over, go out through the hall doorway by twos and threes with suppressed laughter and chatter. As they pa.s.s behind_ Eileen _they glance at her with pitying curiosity._ Doctor Stanton's _voice is heard at regular intervals calling the names in alphabetical order: Mrs. Elbing, Miss Finch, Miss Grimes, Miss Haines, Miss Hayes, Miss Jutner, Miss Linowski, Mrs. Marini, Mrs.
McCoy, Miss McElroy, Miss Nelson, Mrs. Nott, Mrs. O'Brien, Mrs.
Olson, Miss Paul, Miss Petrovski, Mrs. Quinn, Miss Robersi, Mrs.
Stattler, Miss Unger._)
MRS. TURNER (_putting her hand on_ Eileen's _shoulder--kindly_). You're not looking so well lately, my dear, do you know it?
EILEEN (_bravely_). I feel--fine. (_Her eyes, as if looking for encouragement, seek_ Murray, _who is staring at her worriedly._)
MRS. TURNER (_gently_). You lost weight again, you know.
EILEEN, I know--but----
MRS. TURNER. This is the fourth week.
EILEEN. I--I know it is----
MRS. TURNER. I've been keeping my eye on you. You seem--worried. Are you upset about--something we don't know?
EILEEN (_quickly_). No, no! I haven't slept much lately. That must be it.
MRS. TURNER. Are you worrying about your condition? Is that what keeps you awake?
EILEEN. No.
MRS. TURNER. You're sure it's not that?
EILEEN. Yes, I'm sure it's not, Mrs. Turner.
MRS. TURNER. I was going to tell you if you were: Don't do it! You can't expect it to be all smooth sailing. Even the most favourable cases have to expect these little setbacks. A few days' rest in bed will start you on the right trail again.
EILEEN (_in anguish, although she had realised this was coming_). Bed?
Go back to bed? Oh, Mrs. Turner!
MRS. TURNER (_gently_). Yes, my dear, Doctor Stanton thinks it best. So when you go back to your cottage----
EILEEN. Oh, please--not to-day--not right away!
MRS. TURNER. You had a temperature and a high pulse yesterday, didn't you realise it? And this morning you look quite feverish. (_She tries to put her hand on_ Eileen's _forehead, but the latter steps away defensively._)
EILEEN. It's only--not sleeping last night. I was nervous. Oh, I'm sure it'll go away.
MRS. TURNER (_consolingly_). When you lie still and have perfect rest, of course it will.
EILEEN (_with a longing look over at_ Murray). But not to-day--please, Mrs. Turner.
MRS. TURNER (_looking at her keenly_). There is something upsetting you. You've something on your mind that you can't tell me, is that it?
(Eileen _maintains a stubborn silence._) But think--_can't_ you tell me? (_With a kindly smile._) I'm used to other people's troubles. I've been playing mother-confessor to the patients for years now, and I think I've usually been able to help them. Can't you confide in me, child? (Eileen _drops her eyes, but remains silent._ Mrs. Turner _glances meaningly over at_ Murray, _who is watching them whenever he thinks the matron is not aware of it--a note of sharp rebuke in her voice._) I think I can guess your secret, my dear, even if you're too stubborn to tell. This setback is your own fault. You've let other notions become more important to you than the idea of getting well. And you've no excuse for it. After I had to warn you a month ago, I expected _that_ silliness to stop instantly.
EILEEN (_her face flushed--protesting_). There never was anything.
Nothing like that has anything to do with it.
MRS. TURNER (_sceptically_). What is it that has, then?
EILEEN (_lying determinedly_). It's my family. They keep writing--and worrying me--and---- That's what it is, Mrs. Turner.
MRS. TURNER (_not exactly knowing whether to believe this or not--probing the girl with her eyes_). Your father?
EILEEN. Yes, all of them. (_Suddenly seeing a way to discredit all of the matron's suspicions--excitedly._) And princ.i.p.ally the young man I'm engaged to--the one who came to visit me several times----
MRS. TURNER (_surprised_). So--you're engaged? (Eileen _nods._ Mrs.
Turner _immediately dismisses her suspicions._) Oh, pardon me. I didn't know that, you see, or I wouldn't---- (_She pats_ Eileen _on the shoulder comfortingly._) Never mind. You'll tell me all about it, won't you?
EILEEN (_desperately_). Yes. (_She seems about to go on, but the matron interrupts her._)
MRS. TURNER. Oh, not here, my dear. Now now. Come to my room--let me see--I'll be busy all the morning--some time this afternoon. Will you do that?
EILEEN. Yes. (_Joyfully._) Then I needn't go to bed right away?
MRS. TURNER. No--on one condition. You mustn't take any exercise. Stay in your recliner all day and rest and remain in bed to-morrow morning.
And promise me you will rest and not worry any more about things we can easily fix up between us.
EILEEN. I promise, Mrs. Turner.
MRS. TURNER (_smiling in dismissal_). Very well, then. I must speak to Miss Bailey. I'll see you this afternoon.
EILEEN. Yes, Mrs. Turner.
(_The matron goes to the rear where_ Miss Bailey _is sitting with_ Mrs. Abner. _She beckons to_ Miss Bailey, _who gets up with a scared look, and they go to the far left corner of the room._ Eileen _stands for a moment hesitating--then starts to go to_ Murray, _but just at this moment_ Peters _comes forward and speaks to_ Murray.)
PETERS (_with his sly twisted grin_). Say, Carmody musta lost fierce.
Did yuh see the Old Woman handin' her an earful? Sent her back to bed, I betcha. What d'yuh think?
MURRAY (_impatiently, showing his dislike_). How the h.e.l.l do I know?
PETERS (_sneeringly_). Huh, you don't know nothin' 'bout her, I s'pose?
Where d'yuh get that stuff? Think yuh're kiddin' me?