MURRAY (_with cold rage before which the other slinks away_). Peters, the more I see of you the better I like a skunk! If it wasn't for other people losing weight you couldn't get any joy out of life, could you?

(_Roughly._) Get away from me! (_He makes a threatening gesture._)

PETERS (_beating a snarling retreat_). Wait 'n' see if yuh don't lose too, yuh stuck-up b.o.o.b!

(_Seeing that_ Murray _is alone again,_ Eileen _starts towards him, but this time she is intercepted by_ Mrs. Abner, _who stops on her way out. The weighing of the women is now finished, and that of the men, which proceeds much quicker, begins._)

STANTON. Anderson!

(_Anderson comes to the scales. The men all move down to the left to wait their turn, with the exception of_ Murray, _who remains by the dining-room door, fidgeting impatiently, anxious for a word with_ Eileen.)

MRS. ABNER (_taking_ Eileen's _arm_). Coming over to the cottage, dearie?

EILEEN. Not just this minute, Mrs. Abner. I have to wait----

MRS. ABNER. For the Old Woman? You lost to-day, didn't you? Is she sendin' you to bed, the old devil?

EILEEN. Yes, I'm afraid I'll have to----

MRS. ABNER. She's a mean one, ain't she? I gained this week--half a pound. Lord, I'm gittin' fat! All my clothes are gittin' too small for me. Don't know what I'll do. Did you lose much, dearie?

EILEEN. Three pounds.

MRS. ABNER. Ain't that awful! (_Hastening to make up for this thoughtless remark._) All the same, what's three pounds! You can git them back in a week after you're resting more. You been runnin' a temp, too, ain't you? (_Eileen nods._) Don't worry about it, dearie. It'll go down. Worryin's the worst. Me, I don't never worry none. (_She chuckled with satisfaction--then soberly._) I just been talkin' with Bailey.

She's got to go to bed, too, I guess. She lost two pounds. She ain't runnin' no temp though.

STANTON. Barnes! (_Another man comes to the scales._)

MRS. ABNER (_in a mysterious whisper_). Look at Mr. Murray, dearie.

Ain't he nervous to-day? I don't know as I blame him, either. I heard the doctor said he'd let him go home if he gained to-day. Is it true, d'you know?

EILEEN (_dully_). I don't know.

MRS. ABNER. Gosh, I wish it was me! My old man's missin' me like the d.i.c.kens, he writes. (_She starts to go._) You'll be over to the cottage in a while, won't you? Me 'n' you'll have a game of casino, eh?

EILEEN (_happy at this deliverance_). Yes, I'll be glad to.

STANTON. Cordero!

(Mrs. Abner _goes out._ Eileen _again starts towards_ Murray, _but this time_ Flynn, _a young fellow with a brick-coloured, homely, good-natured face, and a shaven-necked haircut, slouches back to_ Murray. Eileen _is brought to a halt in front of the table where she stands, her face working with nervous strain, clasping and unclasping her trembling hands._)

FLYNN (_curiously_). Say, Steve, what's this bull about the Doc lettin'

yuh beat it if yuh gain to-day? Is it straight goods?

MURRAY. He said he might, that's all. (_Impatiently._) How the devil did that story get travelling around?

FLYNN (_with a grin_). Wha' d'yuh expect with this gang of skirts chewin' the fat? Well, here's hopin' yuh come home a winner, Steve.

MURRAY (_gratefully_). Thanks. (_With confidence._) Oh, I'll gain all right; but whether he'll let me go or not---- (_He shrugs his shoulders._)

FLYNN. Make 'em believe. I wish Stanton'd ask waivers on me. (_With a laugh._) I oughter gain a ton to-day. I ate enough spuds for breakfast to plant a farm.

STANTON. Flynn!

FLYNN. Me to the plate! (_He strides to the scales._)

MURRAY. Good luck!

(_He starts to join_ Eileen, _but_ Miss Bailey, _who has finished her talk with_ Mrs. Turner, _who goes out to the hall, approaches_ Eileen _at just this moment._ Murray _stops in his tracks, fuming. He and_ Eileen _exchange a glance of helpless annoyance._)

MISS BAILEY (_her thin face full of the satisfaction of misery finding company--plucks at_ Eileen's _sleeve_). Say, Carmody, she sent you back to bed, too, didn't she?

EILEEN (_absent-mindedly_). I suppose----

MISS BAILEY. You suppose? Don't you know? Of course she did. I got to go, too. (_Pulling_ Eileen's _sleeve._) Come on. Let's get out of here.

I hate this place, don't you?

STANTON (_calling the next_). Hopper!

FLYNN (_shouts to_ Murray _as he is going out to the hall_). I hit 'er for a two-bagger, Steve. Come on now, Bo, and bring me home! 'Atta, boy! (_Grinning gleefully, he slouches out._ Doctor Stanton _and all the patients laugh._)

MISS BAILEY (_with irritating persistence_). Come on, Carmody. You've got to go to bed, too.

EILEEN (_at the end of her patience--releasing her arm from the other's grasp_). Let me alone, will you? I don't have to go to bed now--not till to-morrow morning.

MISS BAILEY (_despairingly, as if she couldn't believe her ears_). You don't have to go to bed?

EILEEN. Not now--no.

MISS BAILEY (_in a whining rage_). Why not? You've been running a temp, too, and I haven't. You must have a pull, that's what! It isn't fair.

I'll bet you lost more than I did, too! What right have you got---- Well, I'm not going to bed if you don't. Wait 'n' see!

EILEEN (_turning away, revolted_). Go away! Leave me alone, please.

STANTON. Lowenstein!

MISS BAILEY (_turns to the hall door, whining_). All right for you! I'm going to find out. It isn't square. I'll write home.

(_She disappears in the hallway._ Murray _strides over to_ Eileen, _whose strength seems to have left her and who is leaning weakly against the table._)

MURRAY. Thank G.o.d--at last! Isn't it h.e.l.l--all these fools! I couldn't get to you. What did Old Lady Grundy have to say to you? I saw her giving me a hard look. Was it about us--the old stuff? (Eileen _nods with downcast eyes._) What did she say? Never mind now. You can tell me in a minute. It's my turn next. (_His eyes glance towards the scales._)

EILEEN (_intensely_). Oh, Stephen, I wish you weren't going away!

MURRAY (_excitedly_). Maybe I'm not. It's exciting--like gambling--if I win----

STANTON. Murray!

MURRAY. Wait here, Eileen.