Time: the present, a winter Sunday afternoon. Place: the living room of Tracy and Laura Gates, somewhere in Suburbia.
Laura: It's snowing again. [Tracy gets up and begins mixing himself a drink.] Already?
Tracy: Already . . . already what?
Laura: Last Sunday you began at 4 o'clock; today you begin at 3:45 . . .
Tracy: Let's not forget your old man!
Laura: Not my old man, my father! He was a fine person too . . . well known in his profession . . .
Tracy: Well known as a West Hartford lush, you mean ....