_Philo_

They're handy for cleaning my wires.

(_She throws the book down, and stands uncertain._)

_Philo_

Going, Reba? Good night!

_Reba_

No, I'm not going. This is my last chance. You'll bar the window to-morrow.

_Philo_ (_determinedly_)

Yes, I will.

(_He bends closely over his work. She lies across the table opposite, watching his movements intently. He fumbles for a tool._)

_Reba_

The little one? Here it is!

(_Hands him a small wire tool. He stares at her face so near his own, then takes the instrument and works confusedly. Jumps up and tries to reach a jar on one of the shelves._ REBA _leaps onto a chair, takes the jar and hands it down. He stares, and takes jar._)

_Reba_ (_as he returns to table_)

Ugh! These jars are so dirty, Philo. May I wash them for you?

_Philo_

Heavens, no!

_Reba_

Oh, _that_ makes you sit up! (_Hums a little, leaps down and begins to move the things on the table._) I'll make the table tidy for you, Philo.

_Philo_ (_grabbing her hands_)

Stop!

_Reba_ (_sings, swinging his hands across the table_)

"All around the mulberry bush----"

_Philo_

Let go!

_Reba_

Why, you're holding _me_!

(_He drops her hands and goes to window, as if intending flight.

She becomes subtle._)

_Reba_

Dr. Seymour says you've done something wonderful, Philo. Won't you show me your machine?

_Philo_

No.

_Reba_

But I _care_! I care more than anybody! I _want_ you to be great. I could sit by you all my life just watching you being great.

(PHILO _smiles. She twirls over to him._) And I don't _like_ to be still, either.

_Philo_

But suppose people began to laugh at you as they do at me?

_Reba_

I wouldn't care. Show me the machine, Philo.

(_Takes his arm and they move back to table._)

_Philo_

There it is.

_Reba_ (_hovering over it_)

This is it. (_Throwing her head back._) Tell me about it.

_Philo_

Reba--your throat is--so white.

_Reba_ (_bending suddenly over machine_)

There's something moving.

_Philo_

So white.