Ruth monologue (Act 3) — Beyond the Horizon

(_mechanically_) Come and let me take off your shoes and stockings, Mary, that’s a good girl. You’ve got to take your nap now. (_The child continues to play as if she hadn’t heard, absorbed in her doll. An eager expression comes over_ RUTH’S _tired face. She glances toward the door furtively--then gets up and goes to the desk. Her movements indicate a guilty fear of discovery. She takes a letter from a pigeon-hole and retreats swiftly to her chair with it. She opens the envelope and reads the letter with great interest, a flush of excitement coming to her cheeks._ ROBERT _walks up the path and opens the screen door quietly and comes into the room. He, too, has aged. His shoulders are stooped as if under too great a burden. His eyes are dull and lifeless, his face burned by the sun and unshaven for days. Streaks of sweat have smudged the layer of dust on his cheeks. His lips drawn down at the corners, give him a hopeless, resigned expression. The three years have accentuated the weakness of his mouth and chin. He is dressed in overalls, laced boots, and a flannel shirt open at the neck_).