Madeline monologue (Act 7) — Plays

I do like good times. So does Fred Jordan like good times. (_smooths the wrinkled paper_) I don't know anybody--unless it is myself--loves to be out, as he does. (_she tries to look out, but cannot; sits very still, seeing what it is pain to see. Rises, goes to that corner closet, the same one from which_ SILAS MORTON _took the deed to the hill. She gets a yard stick, looks in a box and finds a piece of chalk. On the floor she marks off_ FRED JORDAN'S _cell. Slowly, at the end left unchalked, as for a door, she goes in. Her hand goes up as against a wall; looks at her other hand, sees it is out too far, brings it in, giving herself the width of the cell. Walks its length, halts, looks up_.) And one window--too high up to see out.