. . . All right. I'll see you at the house then . . . Good-bye.

 

 

(LAURA looks at him, trying to understand him. BILL comes to her to speak softly to her. Seeing him come, she holds out her arms to be embraced, but he just takes her chin in his hand.)

 

 

 

 

BILL

 

 

Look, Laura, when I brought you here a year ago, I told you it was a tough place for a woman with a heart like yours. I told you you'd run across boys, big and little boys, full of problems, problems which for the moment seem gigantic and heartbreaking. And you promised me then you wouldn't get all taken up with them. Remember?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Yes.

 

 

 

 

BILL

 

 

When I was a kid in school here, I had my problems too. There's a place up by the golf course where I used to go off alone Sunday afternoons and cry my eyes out. I used to lie on my bed just the way Tom does, listening to phonograph records hour after hour.

 

 

(LAURA, touched by this, kneels at his side)

 

 

But I got over it, Laura. I learned how to take it.

 

 

(LAURA looks at him. This touches her)

 

 

When the headmaster's wife gave you this teapot, she told you what she tells all the new masters' wives. You have to be an interested bystander.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I know.

 

 

 

 

BILL

 

 

Just as she said, all you're supposed to do is every once in a while give the boys a little tea and sympathy. Do you remember?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Yes, I remember. It's just that . . .

 

 

 

 

BILL

 

 

What?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

This age -- seventeen, eighteen -- it's so . . .

 

 

 

 

BILL

 

 

I know.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

John was this age when I married him.

 

 

 

 

BILL

 

 

Look, Laura . . .

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I know. You don't like me to talk about John, but . . .

 

 

 

 

BILL

 

 

It's not that. It's .