Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: MRS. RAFORD, HUMANIST ACT I Scene. A room in a cheap tenement. The monotony of bare, discolored walls is broken, on the left by a projection with slanting ceiling, marking stairway to floor above, and in the rear by a window with small panes, one broken and stuffed with rags, the others affording a glimpse of a small narrow court beyond. There are two doors. One to the left leading to another room, shut off by a thread-bare dirty curtain. The other to rear right, leading to hallway. The bareness of the room is heightened by the meagre furnishing, consisting of a plain wooden table half down stage right, with small unlighted lamp, three rough, unpainted chairs and a few cooking utensils hanging from wall of projection. A battered sink with faucets, down stage right, adds to the general wretchedness; a cook stove to rear of sink only heightens the prevailing coldness. A white nurses' table, with alcohol lamp, etc., down stage from projection, and a partially installed telephone on the right wall?both foreign to their environment?serve as the only reminders of another and brighter world. It is late afternoon and the few stray shafts of fading light are engulfed in the deepening gloom of the apartment. Large feathery flakes fall silently past the window. It has been snowing since midday. The curtain rises slowly, disclosing a man, a mechanic in working costume, installing telephone on the right. He finishes after a few seconds and puts receiver to his ear. (Over phone.) Hello, exchange New installation. Give me a ring, please. (Bell rings dearly.) All right, thank you. Good-bye. (Hangs up receiver and begins collecting his tools.) (jean, the tenant, enters from hallway. A Scotch woman, past middle age, rather stout, with a round, genial, sympathetic coun...