New York, NY 1890. A WOMAN'S VOICE hums a mournful IRISH AIR. A LITTLE
GIRL'S FINGERS, twist PAPER into FLOWERS. They belong to ANNIE O'CONNELL (8,
Irish American) who sits with her family at a cramped KITCHEN TABLE.
ANNIE: (whispering to us) It's for bonnets we're makin 'em. If you watch close, you'll see 'em
topping the heads of all the fine ladies down Park Avenue. You can tell the finest by her flowers
-- the more in her bonnet, the grander the lady. My ma says we have to make the flowers so that
one day, I can be a lady like that.
Annie tucks the FLOWER into her hair. She smiles and catches her sister, KITTY’S eye,
showing off. MARY giggles.
KITTY: Mama! Look at Annie!
KATE: Annie O'Connell, what in the name of all that is holy do you think you are-EILEEN: Let her be, Kate. Where's the harm?
KATE: The harm is in thinking it's hers to have. Any of it. You know how-MICHAEL (5) begins to COUGH, a deep, wracking cough.
EILEEN: I'll put some more coal on.
KATE: It's too dear. We'll be needing it for the night. Curse it all.
Kate goes to the STOVE, turning her back. Annie slips the PAPER FLOWER off the table
and into her POCKET. Eileen sees but says nothing. A KNOCK at the door. Everyone
FREEZES.
KATE: Yes?
(A MUFFLED MAN'S VOICE from the hall.)
Yes, sir! A moment!
Hastily, Kate and Eileen straighten the room. Eileen shepherds the children into a
CLOSET, while Kate goes to the door. She opens it, letting in MR. RILEY (40's, cool and
calculating in a cheap suit).
MR. RILEY: I thought I said a thousand pieces.
KATE: Yes, sir. I have 500 for you today, and you'll have the rest by week's end. You see, we
had a bit of sickness in the family, so we fell-
MR. RILEY: Sickness? What sort of sickness? I can't be delivering dirty flowers to the factory,
you know that.
KATE: Oh, the flowers are clean, sir.
MR. RILEY: I heard there was consumption in this building. Is that true?
KATE: There was, but it's gone now, sir.
MR. RILEY: How do you mean?
EILEEN: One of her boys. He passed last week. But the board of health came, and they sealed
off the place, put us behind just a bit, but it is clean, sir. My word on that.
In the closet, Michael starts to COUGH again. The girls put a hand over his mouth,
muffling the sound.
MR. RILEY: Tell you what. We throw out the rest of this batch, and I'll leave you with a fresh
load of papers. You bring me 1500 clean flowers by week's end, and I'll pay you for the whole
thousand.
EILEEN: That's-KATE: Thank you, sir.