_It is about seven o'clock of an August evening, the room feebly lighted
by a flickering acetylene burner. One feels the commencement of rain. A
door to the rear opens and the Everitts enter, the younger children
first._


HAROLD

She didn't give me any toast. I want some toast!

WALTER

A rotten supper!

MRS. EVERITT

Never mind, Harold, you had two cups of that beautiful milk.

ALICE

Of course it was rotten. Everything's second rate here. Ugh! what a musty
smell!

WALTER

I told father we ought to go ahead. The car could have done another six
miles easily. And we'd have reached the Mountain Inn.

ALICE