FATHER [opens door]: It’s me. . . . What’s the matter; don’t you feel well?
DAUGHTER: No, I’m perfectly well; I’ve just been thinking for hours. I’ve come to the conclusion that I give up. I simply give up.
FATHER: What are you going to give up?
DAUGHTER: Have you ever stopped to think that a family should be the most wonderful thing in the world? and that this family’s just gone to pieces.
FATHER: We have?
DAUGHTER: Of course we have. We just sort of go along and nothing happens. We’re in a terrible rut. It’s been on my mind for months. What’s gonna be our future!
FATHER: Oh, come now, Charlie. Things aren’t as bad as that. The bank gave me a raise last January.
DAUGHTER: Money! How can you talk about money when I’m talking about souls? We eat and sleep, and that’s about all. We don’t even have any real conversations — we just talk.
FATHER: And work.
DAUGHTER: Yes, poor mother, she works like a dog. Just like a dog.
FATHER: Where is she?
DAUGHTER: She’s out. When she comes back, it will be the same thing — dinner, then dishes, then bed. I don’t see how she stands it. You know, she’s really a wonderful woman. I mean, she’s not just a mother. And I think we ought to do something for her. Don’t you think we should?
FATHER: Yeah; what were you thinking of doing for her?
DAUGHTER: Oh, nothing I suppose. I guess we’ll just have to wait for a miracle or something.
FATHER: Oh, now, Charlie, you’re right. Absolutely right. I’ll figure out some way—
DAUGHTER: Oh, I don’t believe in good intentions anymore. All I’m waiting for now is a miracle.