Alexia Robinson Studio

The Gingham Dog

At rise, although the apartment is almost compulsively clean,

There are piles of clothes in the kitchen, a footlocker beside them,

several boxes are packed or ready to be packed and a suitcase is near

the door. Gloria is going through a pile of clothes distractedly, dumps

them finally, pushes a box aside with her foot, and wanders to the window,

a sponge in hand, looking as if to clean without knowing where to start or

what to put away. The door is ajar. Gloria is a well-educated, if somewhat

vulgar, graduate of New York University. She must have a personal charm

and energy that outweighs a kind of frantic, superficial vulgarity, a detachment

from most things and a driving passion for others. Vincent enters, Gloria does

not look around. He comes bustling in, a little winded from the stairs. He is

in shirt sleeves, suit pants, a tie slack at his throat. Vincent is a strong, good-

looking man, though he looks now, sometimes, rather like a tired young

executive. He goes to the drawing board and begins packing whatever chalk,

pencils, etc., that he might want to take. There is a tension between them as

though they have been arguing for some time.

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