the dome is flooded in light.
WINDOW, seen at night. The letters on the window, illuminated
distinctness. They read: WASHINGTON POST-DISPATCH. This
telephone which is ringing.
(Then, perking up)
doors of the booth, a man is telephoning:
Senator Samuel Foley--dead. Died a
minute ago--here at St. Vincent's.
agitatedly into a phone.
(into the phone)
speaking. I want the Governor's
residence at Jackson City--Governor
Hubert Hopper. Hurry--
strung over a vast distance--and then into the BEDROOM of
is sounding. Mrs. Emma Hopper, wife of the Governor, sits
bolt upright in the dark.
I knew it! I knew a night's rest
wasn't possible in this house!
(As the buzzer is
(waking with a start,
Wha--? Yes, sweetheart-- Wha--?
That infernal phone!
Yes, yes--phone, phone--
(Fumbling for the
A--an outrage, pet--an outrage--I'll
look into this--
(Seizing the phone)
Hello--Joe!--What!--No! Not really!
What is it?
It couldn't have come at a worse
time. Call Jim Taylor. Tell him I'm
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