Drawn Up From Deep Places

So cold . . .

From a nearby alley, a familiar voice.

MARY KELLY

Here, who’s that? I’ll soon get you warm, mister.

JACK

I beg your pardon?

MARY KELLY

Oh, you should.

(Moving closer)

Don’t be sorry, though—just come this way. The sure cure for

cold’s right up my alley.

JACK

This fog’s so thick, I can barely see you.

MARY KELLY

Aw, but you don’t need your eyes for the close work, do ya?

Just your hands, and . . . whatever else.

(A beat)

What’s wrong with you, anyway?

JACK

I’m lost.

MARY KELLY

Step under the light.

JACK does. MARY KELLY RECOGNIZES him.

MARY KELLY

Oh ho, well. You are lost.

JACK

Do you know me?

MARY KELLY

Don’t you know me?

JACK