 Act 1 of The Mind the Paint Girl by Arthur Wing Pinero. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Persons of the Play. Viscount Farncom. Read by Thomas Peter. Colonel the Honourable Arthur Stidolf. Read by Alan Mapstone. Baron von Rettenmaier. Read by Neymar. Captain Nicholas Jays. Read by Campbell Shelp. Lionel Roper. Read by Brad. Tham de Cathrow. Read by Aaron White. Herbert Ferguson. Read by Frédéric Surge. Stuart Heneage. Read by Kavanaugh. Gerald Grimwood. Read by April 6090. Carlton Smyth. Manager of the Pandora Theatre. Read by James Tommen. Allbot Pock. Actor at the Pandora. Read by Sandra Schmidt. Wilfred Tavish. Actor at the Pandora. Read by Phillip Watson. Vincent Bland. A musical composer attached to the Pandora. Read by Todd. Morris Cooling. Business Manager of the Pandora. Read by Jim Locke. Luigi Mettredotel et Catanis Restaurant. Read by Pierre. The Honourable Mrs Arthur Stadolf. Formerly as Dali Ensar of the Pandora Theatre. Read by T.J. Burns. Lily Paradell of the Pandora. Read by Foam. Jimmy Birch of the Pandora. Read by Sonia. Gabrielle Cato of the Pandora. Read by Pauline Latournerie. Enid Moncreef of the Pandora. Read by Leanne Yau. Daphne Durr of the Pandora. Read by Emma Hatton. Nita Trevena of the Pandora. Read by Lex Hankins. Flo Connoffy, one of four beauties of the Pandora. Read by Eva Davis. Sibyl Der Motte. One of four beauties of the Pandora. Read by Abayi. Olga Cook, one of four beauties of the Pandora. Read by Devora Allen. Evangeline Ventress, one of the four beauties of Pandora. Read by Elsie Sawan. Mrs Upjohn, Lily Paradell's mother, recording by Tracy Duckett. Gladys, Lily's parlor maid, read by Eva Davis. Maud, Lily's maid, read by Leanne Yau. Stage Directions, read by Larry Wilson. The action of the piece takes place in London at Lily Paradell's house in Boomsbury in the foyer of the Pandora Theatre, and again at Lily's house. The curtain will be lowered for a few moments in the course of the second act. Mind the Paint Girl, Act One. The scene is a drawing room, prettily but somewhat shorely decorated. The walls are papered with a design representing large clusters of white and purple lilac. The furniture is covered with a chintz of similar pattern, and the curtains, carpet, and lampshades correspond. In the wall facing the spectator are two windows, and midway between the windows there is the entrance to a conservatory. The conservatory, which is seen beyond, is of the kind that is built out over the portico of a front door, and is plentifully stocked with flowers and hung with a valerium and green sun blights. In the right-hand wall there is another window, and near the spectator a console table supporting a high mirror, and in the wall on the left opposite the console table there is a double door opening into the room, the further half of which only is used. In the entrance of the conservatory to the right there is a low oblong tea table at which are placed three small chairs, and nearby on the left are a grand piano and a music stool. Against the piano there is a set tee, and on the extreme left below the door there is an armchair with a little round table beside it. At the right-hand window in the wall at the back is another set tee, and facing this window and set tee there is a smaller armchair. Not far from the fireplace there is a writing table with a telephone instrument upon it. A chair stands at the writing table, it's back to the window in the wall on the right, and in front of the table opposing the set tee by the piano there is a third set tee. On the left of this set tee almost in the middle of the room is an armchair, and closer to the set tee on its right are two more armchairs. Other articles of furniture, a cabinet, occasional chairs, etc., etc., occupy spaces against the walls. On the piano, on the console table and cabinet, on the set tee at the back, on the round table and upon the floor stand huge baskets of flour and other handsome floral devices in various forms, with cards attached to them. A line higgledy-piggledly upon the writing table are a heap of small packages, several little cases containing jewelry, and a litter of paper and string. The packages and the cases of jewelry are also accompanied by cards or letters. A fierce sunlight streams down upon the valerium and through the green blinds in the conservatory. Note, throughout, right and left are the spectators right and left, not the actors. Lord Farncombe, his gloves in his hand, is seated in the armchair in the middle of the room. He is a simple-mannered, immaculately dressed young man in his early twenties, is bearing an appearance suggesting the soldier. He rises expectantly as Gladys, a flashy parlor made in a uniform, shows in Lionel Roper, a middle-aged individual of the type of the second-class city man. Hello, I'm in luck, just a chap I'm hunting for. Shaking hands with Farncombe. How do you do, Lord Farncombe? How are you, Roper? Gladys to Roper languidly. I'll tell Mrs. Uppjall near here. Ta! Gladys withdraws. Phew, it's hot. Miss Paradelle's out. Roper taking off his gloves. She won't be long, I daresay. I've brought her a few flowers. Have you? I've sent her a trifle of jewelry. Farncombe glancing at the writing-table. She seems to have received a lot of jewelry. Roper bustling across to the table. By chauve, doesn't she? Ah, there's my brooch. I didn't consider I'd a right to offer anything but flowers, on so slight an acquaintance. Exactly, but I'm an old friend, you know. Turning to Farncombe. Perhaps by her next birthday. Farncombe smiling. I hope so. Roper approaching Farncombe and taking him by the lapel of his coat. What I want to say to you is doing anything tonight? I shall be at the theatre. Oh, we shall all be at the theatre, to shout many happy returns. Later, I mean. Nothing that I can't get out of. Good, look here. Smythe is giving her a bit of supper in the foyer after the show. A dance on the stage to follow, about five and twenty people. Will you come? Mr. Smythe is kind enough to ask me. He does ask you through me. He's left all the arrangements to me and morey cooling. Carter never did anything in his life. I egged him on to this. I've been sweating at it since eleven o'clock this morning. Haven't been near the city, not near it. Well? Farncombe, his eye's glowing. I shall be delighted. Splendid! Been trying to get on to you all day. You're called twice at your club and at St. James Place. Sorry you've had so much trouble. Roper dropping on to the setee in front of the writing-table, and wiping his brow. There'll be the Baron, Sam de Castro, Bertie Fulkerson, Stu Hennage, Jerry Grimwood, Dwarf Kennedy, Colonel and Mrs. Stidolph, the dolly-enzer that was, and ourselves, besides cooling and Vincent Bland, and the pick of the company. Tanny does the food and drink. I don't believe I've forgotten a single thing. With a change of tone, pointing to the armchair in the middle of the room. Sit down a minute. Farncombe sits and Roper edges nearer to him. Are you going to wait to see Lily this afternoon? I... I should like to. Because if Jay should happen to drop in while you're here... Captain Jay's? Nicko Jay's. Or if you knock up against him tonight at the theatre? Mum about this? About the supper. Roper nodding. We don't want Nicko Jay's. We simply don't want him. And if he heard that you and some of the boys are coming, he might wonder why he isn't included. He strikes me as being rather a surly, ill-conditioned person. A regular loafer. He appears to live at Catani's. I'd never go there without meeting him. Exactly. Catani's at a top-back bedroom in German Street and hanging about the Pandora. That's Nicko Jay's life. He's an old friend of Mrs. Uptchance and Miss Paradelle's too, isn't he? Roper evasive way. Known him some time. That's it. Lily's so faithful to her old friends. Farncombe smiley. You oughtn't to complain of that. Oh, but I'm a real friend. I've always been a patron of the musical drama. It's my fad. And I've kept an eye on Lily from the moment she sprang into prominence. Mind the paint. Mind the paint. Looks after her like a father. Uncle Lowell, she calls me. Reassuringly. I'm a married man, you know. Farncombe nods. But the wife has plenty to occupy her with the kids and she leaves the drama to me. She prefers Bexhill. Leaning forward and speaking with great earnestness. Farncombe, what a charming creature. Mrs. Roper. No, no, no. Lily. Oh, and so's my Mrs. for that matter when she chooses. But Lily Uptchance. Beautiful. Perfectly beautiful. Yes, it is good as she's beautiful. You take it from me. With a wave of the hand. Well, if you see Jays, you won't. Not a word. Roper rising and walking away to the left. I've warned the others. Returning to Farncombe, who has also risen. By the by, if Lily should mention the supper at the course of the conversation, remember she's not in the conspiracy. Conspiracy? To shunt Nico. We're letting her think there are to be no outsiders. Farncombe becoming slightly puzzled by Roper's manner. Why, would she very much like Captain Jays to be asked? Roper rather impatiently. Haven't I told you once you're a friend of Lily's? Looking towards the door. Is this Ma? Mrs. Uptchance enters. Hello, Ma. Mrs. Uptchance, a pudgy little gaily dressed woman of five and fifty with a stupid good-humoured face. Hello, Uncle. Lord Farncombe. Mrs. Uptchance advancing and shaking hands with Farncombe. Glad to see you here again. You have been before, haven't you? Last week. Of course. You came with Mr. Bertie Fulkerson. But somebody or other's always pulping in. Pleasantly. Lilsies too many I say. It's tiring for her. Won't you set? Lord Farncombe's brought Lily some flowers, Ma. To Farncombe. Where are they? Farncombe, who after waiting for Mrs. Uptchance to settle herself upon the said tea in front of the writing table, sits in the chair at the end of the said tea, pointing to a large basket of flowers. On the piano. Mrs. Uptchance barely glancing at the flowers. How kind of him. Such a waste on money, too. They do go off so quick. Roper reading the cards attached to the various floral gifts. Where is Lilyle? She's set into a rising young artist in Fitzroy Street. Claude Morgan. She won't be home till past five. So tiring for her. Never heard of Morgan. No, nor anybody else. That's what I tell her. Why waste your time giving sentence to a rising young artist in the big man, it go down on their ends and knees to do you. But that's Lilyle all over. She's the best natured girl in the world. And so she gets imposed on all round. Farncombe Gallantly. I prophesy that Mr. Morgan's picture, Miss Paradel, won't have dried before he's quite famous. Mrs. Uptchance turning a pair of doll eyes full upon him. How do you mean? Farncombe disconcerted. Er, I mean... Why won't it have dried? I mean he will have become celebrated before it has dried. His picture's never too dry, you mean? No, no, ma. However, it doesn't matter. He isn't even going to put her name to it. Why not? You may well ask. Mrs. Uptchance bent on calling it the Mind the Paint Girl. What's wrong with that? Everybody can recognise who that is. Mrs. Uptchance and convinced. Her name's printed on all her photos. The first time I had the pleasure of seeing your daughter on the stage, Mrs. Uptchance, a man next to me said, Here comes the Mind the Paint Girl. Mrs. Uptchance cheering up. Oh, well. Perhaps young Morgan knows his own business best. Let's hope so at any rate. Roper by the tea table beckoning to Farncombe. Farncombe? Farncombe to Roper. Eh? To Mrs. Uptchance rising. Excuse me. Farncombe joins Roper whereupon Mrs. Uptchance goes to the writing table and seating herself there examines the jewellery delightedly. Roper to Farncombe in a whisper. Do me a favour. Certainly. Roper looking at his watch. It's only half past four. Take a turn round the square. I have some business to talk over with the old lady. Farncombe nodding to Roper and then coming forward and addressing Mrs. Uptchance. I, erm, I think I'll go for a little walk and come back later on, if I may. Mrs. Uptchance contentedly. Oh, just as you like. Farncombe moving towards the door. In about a quarter of an hour. If we don't see you again I'll tell Lil you've been here. Farncombe at the door. Oh, but you will. You will see me again. Well, please yourself and you please your dearest friend, as Lil's dad used to say. Thank you. Thank you very much. He disappears closing the door after him. Mrs. Uptchance to Roper looking up. I believe you gave that young man the end to go, uncle. He did. Told him I wanted to talk business with you. Business? Resumed in her inspection of the trinkets. This is a handsome thing, Mr. Grimwood Centre. Roper his hands in his trouser pockets. Contemplate he misses up John desperately. Upon my soul, Ma, you're a champion. Now, what have I done? Well, you might spread yourself a little over young Farncombe. Spread myself? Why should I? Lord Farncombe. I treat him all alike. So does Lil. Is not the first title we've had here? Not by a dozen. No, but damn it all, I beg your pardon. Mrs. Uptchance beaming. So you owe, swearing like a trooper. This chap's in love with her. Oh, they're all in love with her. Or have been one time or another? Yes, but they're not all Farncombe's and they're not all marrying men. I'm prepared to bet my boots that if Lil and young Farncombe could be thrown together. Sitting on the setee in front of the writing-table as Mrs. Uptchance rises and comes forward. Here, do talk it over. Mrs. Uptchance placidly. Where's the use of talking it over? It's wasting one's breath. Moving to the setee by the piano. My Lil doesn't want to marry. Anyhow, not yet awhile. She's as happy and contented as she is. Sitting and smoothing out her skirt. When she does, I suppose it'll be the captain. Robert, between his teeth. The captain. Ma, the day Lil marries Nicco Jays, you and she'll see the last of me. Oh, don't say that, Uncle. I do say it. The disappointment would be more than I could stand. Selfish, designing beggar. Now no low-up-yos. A fellow who gets on the soft side of Lil before she's out of her teens, before she's made any position to speak of and when she has made a position and he's practically on his uppers, sticks to her like a limpet. She sticks to him, too. It meant a deal to Lil in her humble days, reflect, receive an attention from a jetman in the army. She doesn't forget that. Robert, jumping up and walking about. It's cruel, that's what it is. It's cruel. Here's Gweny Harker and Madey Traveille both married to Pierre's sons and Eva Shaftow to a baronet. All of them Pandora girls and Lil, she's left high and dry, gauged to and nobody. It's cruel. She's not actually engaged. Ho-ho! The idea was, when his shirt went to India and gave up soldiering, so as to be nearer, that he should get something to do in London. Then they were to be engaged. Ropers, sarcastically. Oh, to be just, I admit he's in no hurry. He's been a whole year looking for something to do in London, looking for it at catannies and at the Pandora bars. He has to be on the spot at night to bring Lil'Om after work. Exactly. And when a decent, eligible young chap comes along and means business, he's choked off by finding Nicko Jayes in possession. Stopping before Mrs. Upjohn. But I say... What? Farncom hasn't tumbled to it yet. Mrs. Upjohn, indifferently. Isn't he? Bertie Fulkerson's held his tongue about it. So have the other boys who are friends of Farncom's. They see he's hard hit. Oh, they're good boys. They're good loyal boys. There's not one of them who wouldn't throw up his hat if Nicko got the chuck. Ma. Mrs. Upjohn startled. Hey! This little spree tonight at the theatre. Lil' thinks it's merely among the members of the company. Ain't it? Rober's sitting beside her. You keep quiet now and know it isn't. Ooh. The boys and Farncom. Mrs. Upjohn disturbed. Gracious. There'll be an awful fuss with the Captain tomorrow. Rober's snapping his fingers. Psh. Mrs. Upjohn rising and walking away to the right. He's so horribly jealous. When Lil' tells him who was at the party, they'll be a frightful kick-up. Rober falling into despondency. Oh, I daresay I'm a fool for my pains, Ma. Nothing'll come of it. Rising and pacing the room again. Farncom's as shy as a schoolgirl. He'll be on a desert island with a pretty woman for a month without squeezing her hand. Mrs. Upjohn in an altered tone. Uncle. Hello? Mrs. Upjohn thoughtfully. I shouldn't raise any objection, bear in mind. If Lil' could be waned away from the Captain and took a fancy to young Farncom. Objection. Mrs. Upjohn sitting on the setee in front of the writing-table. Oh, said and done. To be Lady F with no need to work, if you're not disposed to, is better than being Mrs. Captain G's and having to linger on the stage, perhaps till you drop to help keep the pot a-boiling. Opening her eyes widely. Lady F. Robert coming to her. And Countess of Goldming when his father dies. I suppose there'd be any amount of unpleasantness with the family. Robert, disdainfully. The family. There's generally a rumpus in such cases. Why, Ma, these tip-top families ought to be jolly grateful that we're mixing the breed for them a bit. Look at the two lads who've married Gwennie Harker and Maidie Traveille. Kinterton and Glenroy and Fawcus, Sir George Fawcus, Eva Shaftow's husband. They haven't a chin or a forehead between them, and their chests are as narrow as a ten-inch plank. Quite true. Farncom himself. He's inclined to be weedy. I maintain it's a grand thing for our English knobs that their slips of sons have taken to marry young women of the stamps of Maidie Traveille and Gwennie Harker. Orlil, keen-witted young women full of the joy of life with strong frames, beautiful hair and fine eyes, and healthy pink gums and big white teeth. Sneer at the Pandora Girls. Great Scott, it's my belief that the Pandora Girls would be the salvation of the aristocracy in this country in the long run. Captain Nicholas Jayes lounges in. He is a man of about five and thirty, already slightly gray-haired, who has gone to seed. Roper sits in the chair in the middle of the room rather guiltily, and Mrs. Upjohn puts on a propitiatory grin. Jayes nodding to Mrs. Upjohn and Roper as he closes the door. Afternoon, Mrs. Upjohn. How are you, Roper? Ah, Captain. Hello, Nico. Jayes advancing. Is Lily not in? No, she's in Fitzroy Street, setting to Morgan. Jayes frowning. Why didn't she ask me to go with her? Dunno, I'm sure. She's took me as batch. Oh. Looking round. Flowers. Epes of a link there. Roper jerking his head towards the writing table. Yes, and some nice presents over here. She's beat on record this year, Lilaz. Oh, no. Jayes goes to the writing table, and Roper and Mrs. Upjohn rise and wander away, the former to the conservatory, the latter to the setee by the piano. Jayes scowling at the presents. Very nice. Picking up a case of jewelry. Very nice. Throwing the case down angrily. Confound him. What the devil do they take her for? Roper at the entrance to the conservatory. I may remark that one of those gifts is from me, Jayes. Oh, I'm not alluding to you. Much obliged. Jayes coming forward and addressing Mrs. Upjohn. I've called in to ask Lily whether she'll come out to supper with me tonight to Katani's to celebrate her birthday. Luigi's decorating a table for me especially. Mr. and Mrs. Lynn Thornell come, and Jack Wethert. To Roper. Are you free Roper? Mrs. Upjohn sits uneasily on the setee by the piano, and Roper finds some object to interest him near the tea table. I suppose it's no good asking you, Mrs. Upjohn. N-n-no. Thank you, Captain. And I... I'm afraid... Afraid? I'm afraid little cat manager, Eva. Why not? I-I'm surprised she didn't mention it to you herself when you brought her home last night. Mention what? They're giving her a supper tonight at the theatre. The theatre? Roper advancing. Yes, Carlton standing a little spread in the foyer in honour of the occasion. Sitting at the tea table. Quite right, too. She's his best asset and chancet. When was it fixed up? Late last night. The fact is Lily and I had a slight tiff coming home last night. Sitting on the setee in front of the writing table. Ha! I suppose she kept it from me to pay me out. Sharply. Who's invited? Only the principal members of the company, I understand. Mrs. Upjohn moistening her lips with her tongue. Yes. Only the members of the company, Lil says. With Morrie cooling and Vincent Bland thrown in. Geez, looking at Roper. You seem to know a lot about it, Roper. I was behind when Morrie was going round to the dressing rooms. Geez, too, Roper, suspiciously. Are you asked? Eh? Are you asked? Roper with an attempt at airiness. Oh, yes. They've dragged me into it. Since when have you been a member of the company? No, but, Dashet, I've done business for Carlton in the city for twenty years or more. That doesn't make you one. And I'm an old friend of Lil's. Not older than I. Violently. Why the blazes doesn't Smith invite me. Roper extended his arms. My dear Niko, I'm not giving the party. Really, you do jump down a man's throat. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Leaning back and thrusting his hands into his pocket. Well, I'll put Jack and the Lenthorns off. They don't want to step with me. I shouldn't amuse them. Gazing at the carpet. Her birthday, though. It'll be the first time I shall have been out of that for how many years? Six years, I. Raising his head, he detects Mrs. Upjohn and Roper eyeing each other uncomfortably. Anything to matter? S-S-Matter? Geez, taking his hands from his pockets and sitting upright. Any game on? Game. At my expense? I don't know what you're driving at, Captain. Geez, harshly. How long's Lily sitting this afternoon? Till five. Geez, looking at his watch. What's Morgan's number in Fitzroy Street? Sixty. Geez, rising. I'll fetch her. As he makes a movement towards the door, it is thrown open and Lily Paradell enters with a rush, an entrancing vision of youth, grace, and beauty. She is followed by Jimmy Birch, a petite, bright-eyed girl in an extremely chic costume. Lily tearing off her gloves as she enters. Phew! I'm dead! Giving her hand to Geez carelessly. Ah, Nicko. To Mrs. Upjohn. I couldn't stand the heat in the studio any longer, Mother. Finding Roper beside her, she offers her cheek to him, and he kisses it. Mon Uncle. Jimmy closing the door. That young man Morgan ought to paint the infernal regions. Lily taking her scarf from her shoulder. He might finish with the angel's first, though. To Geez softly as Roper turns to shake hands with Jimmy. You in a better temper today? Geez in her ear. You drove me wild last night. Lily making a face at him. Served you right. Passing him. For God's sake, let me lie down. She throws herself upon the said tea in front of the writing-table, and Geez moves away as Mrs. Upjohn and Roper go to her. Don't come near me. Give me my fan. Jimmy, where's my fan? Oh, I've left it in Fitzroy Street. Beast! Mrs. Upjohn hurrying to the writing-table. There's one here, among your presents. Lily unpinning her hat. Uncle Lell, what an adorable ring that is, you've sent me. Roper taking the fan from Mrs. Upjohn. Ring a brooch. Somebody sent me a ring. Mrs. Upjohn sitting in the chair at the end of the said tea by the writing-table. There's three rings. Of course. One of them's from Nicko. To Geez. Did you get my sweet telegram, Nicko? Geez, who has greeted Jimmy and is now seated at the chair on the extreme left, so-calledly. I had your telegram, but it's a pendant I sent you. Jimmy sitting upon the said tea by the piano and pulling off her gloves. You shut up, Jimmy. Snatching that fan from Roper. How on earth am I to remember? Fanning herself. Who's given me this pretty thing? Mr. Monte Levine. Bless him. He's a dear little man, though he does bite his nails. Gladys appears with Vincent Bland, who saunters in after her. Seeing Lily, Gladys advances to her. Hello, Vincent. Bland, a thin, delicate-looking man of eight and thirty. Not over-smartly dressed, wearing an eyeglass, nodding to Lily casually. You didn't have cut me. Almost on your doorstep. To Jimmy and James. Hello, Jimmy. Hello, Nicko. Gladys viewing Lily with an elevation of the brows. Oh, are you home? Lily returning Gladys' stare. Apparently. I will select a mod. Don't, if it's too severe a strain on you. Misses up John to Gladys as the girl moves to the door. Gladys, we'll have tea. Gladys at the door. You can't, till it's ready. Lily calmly. Cheek. Gladys retires. Bland, who has strolled across to Lily indolently. Why do you retain the services of that tousle-headed hussy? Lily with conviction. Oh, she's a little under the weather, but she's a perfect servant. Bland to Misses up John. Ma, you look blooming. Wish I could return the compliment, Mr. Bland. Bland to Roper, who has worn a waistcoat of rather a pronounced pattern. Congratulations on your waistcoat, Halal. Roper, Johnny, Jimmy, annoys me. Now no personalities. Lily giving Bland her hand. Vincent, yours is one of the loveliest presents I've had to-day. Remorse-y-ment. How's that for a French accent? Bland, dropping his eyeglass. You cat. Why? You know I've given you nothing. Not even a penny-nose-gay. Lily raising herself on her elbow. On my honour. Vincent, dear, I swear I thought- The funds are too low. Replacing his eyeglass. I did go so far as to price a bangle at Selby's. But that was before a certain event yesterday. What horses did you, Beck Vincent? I won a fiver, so Jerry Grimm would. Roper to Bland. You are a patient-ass. Why don't you leave betting alone? Bland to Roper, flaring up. Why don't you lead your city-muck alone? Lily putting her feet to the floor imperiously. That'll do. Be quiet, you two. I won't have any wrangling in my house. Run away and play, all of you. I want to speak to Vincent for a minute privately. With a gesture. Uncle Lell, Jimmy, Nicko? To Mrs. Upjohn. Scoot, mother. Oh, dear. What a child. Roper, Jimmy, G's and Mrs. Upjohn move away and Lily Beckins to Bland. Finn. Bland close to her with a writhe face. Mercy. You've broken your word to me, then. Through her teeth. Those damned horses. Cooling had a tip from the stable. Cooling? Morrie Cooling has no children, only a fat wife. You've a darling little wife and three kitties. How much did you drop yesterday? Shant say. Lily rising and touching his arm. Oh, Vincent. She looks round to assure herself that she is unobserved. Mrs. Upjohn and Roper are seated at the tea table with their heads together, talking. Jimmy is at the piano figuring out a piece of music. G's is half hidden in the armchair facing the said tea at the back. Lily tiptoes to the writing table and seats herself there as Gladys reappears going in the Varen von Rittmeyer. Von Rittmeyer, a tall fair young man of three and thirty, speaking in thick guttural tones, advancing to Lily. Ah, goddess. Gladys withdraws. Many happy returns the day. Hush! I'm busy for a moment, Varen. Von Rittmeyer to Lily, shaking hands with Bland. A thousand Bardens. Talk to Mother and Jimmy. With pleasure. Going to Mrs. Upjohn and Roper and shaking hands with him. How are you, my dear Ma? How are you, Jimmy? Waving a hand to Roper and G's. My dear Roper. My dear Nicholas. Jimmy to Von Rittmeyer, mimicking him. Roper. Nicholas. Why don't they provide you with throat lozenges at the embassy, Baron? Von Rittmeyer laughs. Lily has quickly opened the drawer in the writing table and produced a checkbook. After another glance over her shoulder she sweeps the presence aside in rights. Then she replaces the checkbook, rises and returns to Bland. Again there is a loud guffaw from Von Rittmeyer in response to some sally of Jimmy's. Lily to Bland, folding the check and slipping it into his hand. Promise. Promise you won't make another bet. Bland and folding the check. Your check. Put it in your pocket. A blank one? Don't fill it in for more than you can help. I'm not overflush. He deliberately tears the check into four pieces and looking at her steadily puts them into his waist-good pocket. Bland as he does so. I'll keep, though, Lil, for as long as I keep anything. You fool, Vincent. My dear, as if. Such ridiculous pride. Stamping her foot. Lord, what I owe to you. Gladys enters with Sam Decastro. Gladys is carrying a lace-edged tablecloth which assisted by Mrs. Uppchan. She proceeds to lay upon the tea-table. Bland moving away to join the others. To Decastro. Ah, Sam. Decastro, a stout coarse, but junior-looking gentleman of forty, of marked Jewish appearance speaking with a lisp, shaking hands with Lily. How are you today, Lil? Many happy returns once more. Thanks, dear old boy. Sitting on the sati in front of the writing-table. Did I send you a wire this morning? Not you, not a sixth per north. I ought to have done so, to acknowledge your... What was it? A ring, diamonds and sapphire. Ah, yes, beautiful. It is rather a nice ring. Lowering his voice. But I say... What? Mind you don't go and tell Gabb on any account. Lily with a great assumption of ignorance raising her eyebrows. Gabb's? Gabrielle, Miss Cato. Why shouldn't I? Non-thance. You know very well. Urgently. You won't, will you? Lily shrugging her shoulders. I won't, if I remember not to. Decastro alarmed. Ah, now! Don't be stupid. What's the good of making Miss Giff? Lily shows him the tip of her tongue. Oh, Lil. Glad it goes out. Still? Van Rittenmeyer leaving the group at the back and putting an arm round Decastro's shoulder. My dear friend Zahm, how are you, Baron? Going to Mrs. Upchon. Afternoon, ma. Lauding to Jimmy and Roper. Afternoon, everybody. Shaking hands with Gis, who has risen and now joins the group. How are you, Nico? Lily giving her hand to Van Rittenmeyer. Excuse me for cutting you short when you came in. Thanks for your splendid present. I did send you a wire, didn't I? Van Rittenmeyer kissing her hand and bowing over it. I shall preserve it with a few oral souvenirs till the end of my life. Lily withdrawing her hand and blowing the compliment away. Phew! La-la-la-la! Van Rittenmeyer in an altered tone after a cautious look round. Goddess. Eh? Van Rittenmeyer anxiously. My drifting little offering. I entreat you not to mention it to Enid. Ha-ha-ha-ha! On another of you! There, charming Miss Mungreef. Baron, I wish you boys wouldn't make me presence and then ask me to keep them a secret from the other girls. And I. I wish it were not necessary. But Goddess, you're also a young lady of the world. You know what women are. Ha! I know what you men are. Maude, a buxom young woman with a good tempered face dressed as a lady's maid, enters quickly, tying her apron and runs to Lily. Gise comes to the further side of the writing table and Van Rittenmeyer now joins him there. Jimmy Birch also comes forward accompanied by D'Castro. Maude to Lily. Here, give me your things. Lily tosses her hat, scarf and gloves to Maude. I was in my room having a lie down. Is my hair untidy? I've never seen it anything else. Ha-ha-ha! Maude to Jimmy and D'Castro. Afternoon, Miss Jimmy. Afternoon, Mr. Castro. To Lily. Now, don't let them all tie you to death. Oh, clear out. As Maude is departing. Hi. Rising and kicking off her shoes and sending them in Maude's direction. Fetch me a pair of slippers. Maude picking up the shoes and chuckling. Ha-ha-ha! When Maude reaches the door which she has left open, Gladys appears with a tea tray and with foreign comb at her heels. Gladys to Maude. Oh, you're doing something, are you? Yes, setting you an example, my girl. Encountering foreign comb. Back pardon? Maude withdraws, closing the door, and foreign comb stands looking at Lily, who is talking to Jimmy. Gladys carries the tray to the tea table. Lily becoming aware of foreign comb's presence and nodding to him. How'd you do? Foreign comb moving a step or two towards her. I... I've been here before this afternoon. I venture to bring you some flowers. Lily going to him and shaking hands with him formally. Nobody told me, awfully kind of you. Where have you put them? Foreign comb lifting his basket of flowers from off the piano and showing it to her. Here. Fretchy. Pulling out a carnation. Stick it up there again. He replaces the basket. You're Lord Foreign Comb, aren't you? Yes. Lily with a glance at the others. Know anybody here? Foreign comb looking round the room. Nearly everybody are fancy. He advances to von Rittenmeyer, who comes to meet him. Lily sits upon the setee by the piano and fastens the carnation in her dress. Gladys goes out. Carl! My dear Eddie! Foreign comb bowing to Dicastro, who is now seated beside Jimmy on the setee in front of the writing table. How are you, Mr. Dicastro? Two Gs who are standing by the chair at the writing table, gnawing his moustache and watching Lily and Foreign Comb sourly. How are you, Captain Jays? Turning to Bland. How are you, Mr. Bland? To Lily. I've been talking to Mrs. Uptjorn and Mr. Opel ready. Lily looking across to Jimmy. Miss Birch, Lord Foreign Comb. Jimmy nodding to Foreign Comb. How do you do? Foreign Comb going to Jimmy and shaking hands with her. I, I mean, say that I am one of Miss Birch's warmest, most profound. Jimmy smiling at him. That's all right. Don't you bother about that. Maud returns carrying a pair of silken slippers. Von Rittenmeyer, who has come to Lily, makes a dart at the slippers and takes them from Maud. Ah! Permit me. No, Baron. Slapping his arm. He pushes Maud out of the room, she resisting laughingly and closes the door. Von Rittenmeyer holding the slippers aloft. Gentlemen, homage to beauty. Valomy, Zamb, Vincent, Robert, Nigo, Eddie. The men put themselves behind him in single file in the order in which he calls them, with the exception of Jays, who deliberately sits at the writing table and Foreign Comb, who is embarrassed. Jimmy claps her hands and misses up John, who is pouring out tea, laughs herself into a fit of coffee. Da, da, da, da, da, da, boom, boom. Baron, you great baby. Quick, Maj. Roper calling to Foreign Comb. Come along, Foreign Comb. Jimmy giving Foreign Comb a shove. Go on. Foreign Comb takes his place behind Roper and headed by Von Rittenmeyer. The men march around the room. Von Rittenmeyer waving the slippers in the air and singing. Weib, was ist in alle Welt der Anschonheit gleichgestellt. Reit zum Flossen, Wunderholt. Perl der Schöpfung, Herzen, Gold. Tags, Gedanken, Traum der Nacht. Schwieb und undig, Süße, Sack. Von Rittenmeyer halts before Lily and kneels to her. He extends her left foot and he kisses her instep and puts her foot into her slipper. She rewards him by lightly boxing his ears. He makes way for De Castro, handing him the other slipper. And De Castro performs the same ceremony with Lily's right foot. She upsets De Castro's balance by a little kick. Von Rittenmeyer seating himself beside Jimmy singing. De Castro gathers himself up and sits in the chair at the end of the set tee in front of the writing table. Bland and Roper having knelt and kissed Lily's foot also sits. The former in the chair in the middle of the room, the latter in the chair on the extreme left. Finally, Farnkum finds himself before Lily. He looks at her hesitatingly and she returns his look with awakened interest and withdraws her foot. Lily shaking her head. No, no, don't you be silly like the others. Mrs. Upjohn loudly. Tea! Bland, Von Rittenmeyer and De Castro jump up and go to the tea table where Farnkum joins them. Gladys enters carrying his stand on which are a plate of bread and butter, a dish of cake, etc. Roper takes the stand from her and the girl retires. Farnkum brings Lily a cup of tea. De Castro and Bland follow him, the one with a milk jug, the other with a sugar basin. Von Rittenmeyer carries a cup of tea to Jimmy, and then De Castro and Bland, having waited upon Lily, go to Jimmy with the milk and sugar. Roper hands the bread and butter and cake to Lily, then to Jimmy, and in the end Roper, Bland, De Castro, and Von Rittenmeyer assemble at the tea table and receive their cups of tea from Mrs. Upjohn. Roper relieving Gladys of the stand. Give it to me, I want a little exercise. Lily taking her cup of tea from Farnkum. Thanks. De Castro helping Lily to milk. Milk-ho! Sugar? I'm putting on weight as it is. Roper offering the bread and butter, etc., concisiously. Heises, sweet, tall chocolate, full piano score. Nothing to eat, Uncle. I dine at six. Mrs. Upjohn calling to G's from the tea table. Captain, are you going to have any tea? G's moodily examining the presents on the writing table. No, thank you, Mrs. Upjohn. Bland to Jimmy after she has been helped to milk. Sugar? Two lumps. Roper pushing Bland and De Castro aside, imitating a female voice. Heises, sweet, tall chocolate, full piano score. Jimmy cutting a slice of cake. Well, the world would be a much happier place to live in if Lloyd George texts your jokes. Von Rittenmeyer, Bland and De Castro returning to the tea table. Oh! Lily to Farncombe, who remains standing near her. Seeing our show at the Pandora? Farncombe gazing at her. Twenty-three times. Not really. This week and last, every night. Lily running her eye over him. You went to guards by any chance? Farncombe nodding. Yes, Lily smiling. Ah, you'll never do a braver deed in seeing our show twenty-three times. Jimmy as Roper leaves her to go to the table, her mouth full of cake. Boys. Oh, wait a minute. I've swallowed some of the Baron's German. Gulping. Boys, seriously, no rot. Raising her teacup. Jolly good health to Lily. There is a cry of approbation from Bland, Von Rittenmeyer, De Castro and Roper. Farncombe fetches himself a cup of tea from the tea table. She's a white woman, Lily is. The staunchest, truest pal where she takes a liking. Here, here, here. Mrs. Upjohn pressing forward through the men and going to Lily. And the best daughter breathing. Embracing Lily and then turning to the others. Do you notice the new dress I'm wearing this afternoon? Don't, mother, don't. Fifteen guineas acosta. Sitting in the chair on the extreme left, proudly. Madam Geroffin made it and an act to go with it on sweet. Lily to Mrs. Upjohn. Hush. Well? Sipping her tea as if drinking a toast. In a cup of tea. Bland, De Castro and Roper sipping their tea. In a cup of tea. Van Rittenmeyer drinking. In a gobo tea. Jimmy to Van Rittenmeyer mockingly. Gobo dee. Lily waving her hand. Thank you, Jimmy. Thank you, dear boys, from the bottom of my heart. Jimmy to the men. By Jove. She saved me once from going home to a cheap lodging and taking a dose of rat killer. Van Rittenmeyer behind Roper and De Castro peeping over their shoulders. A biddy. A great biddy. I'll attend to you presently, Baron. Lily to Jimmy. I remember. A wretched little shrimp you looked that day. Jimmy to everybody. It was my first morning at the Pandora. They tied me up from Harrogate in a hurry to take Gwennie Harca's place. I'd been playing her part in the number two company in the country, and she'd left them in a hole to get married to a stupid lord. Too far and cold finding him standing near her. Sorry. I was to have only one rehearsal. Pledging her fist. And, oh, didn't they treat me abominably. Miss Anza was late, and we were all hanging about on the stage waiting for her. I've never felt so cold in my life or so lonely. Not a word of welcome, not a nod from a single soul. Simply a blank stare occasionally from a haughty beauty with a curled lip. And at last, when I was on the point of howling, I became conscious that somebody was watching me. A tall, pretty thing in a lavender frock. De Castro sitting in the chair in the middle of the room. Lil. I caught her eye, and she came straight over to me and sat down beside me. Shaky, she said. A corpse, I said. And she quietly laid hold of my hand, and held it till Dolly Anza condescended to stroll in. And when I got up, I asked her who she was, and she told me. Oh, my God, I said. I'll never forget your kindness. Why, of course, hear the mind to paint, girl. Roper, De Castro, and von Rittenmeyer singing. Mind the paint, mind the paint. Bland seats himself at the piano and thumps out the air of the refrain of Mind the Paint. The three men, malving the time silently, wave their arms, and Lily's head and body move from side to side. Is there anything more ancient than a four-year-old comic song? Playing a few bars of the melody of the song. Shade of the Nineveh and all the buried cities. Roper, von Rittenmeyer, and De Castro to Lily Coaxinland. Lily, goddess, Lil. Lily shaking her head. Oh, boys, it's gone. Pressing temples. I couldn't. Bland plays the introductory symphony and then pauses. Then she sings, he accompanying her. In a moment or two the song comes back to her readily, and she gives it with great wichery and allurement. G starts up and goes to the window and the wall on the right side and looks out. Lily singing. I've a very charming dwelling. You know where, without detailing. Decorated in a style that's rather quaint. Smart and quaint. When you pay my house a visit, you may scrutinize or quiz it, but you mustn't touch the paint. Brand new paint. Mind the paint, mind the paint. No matter whether maple's bills are settled or they ain't. Once you smear it or you scratch it, it's impossible to match it. So take care, please, of the paint. Of dip paint. Rising and coming to the middle of the room, Lily repeats the refrain, dancing to it gracefully. Jimmy also rises and she, Roper von Rittenmeyer and De Castro join in the chorus and the dance. The three men very extravagantly. Farm comb looks on, enraptured, while Mrs. Upjohn beats time with her hands. I'm possessed of older graces. Oh, a perfect dream, my faces. It may owe to art a trifle or it mayant. Hmm, it mayant. And I'll cry out for assistance. Should you fail to keep your distance? Goodness gracious, mind the paint. Mind the paint. Mind the paint, mind the paint. A girl is not a sinner just because she's not a saint. But my heart shall hold you dearer. You may come a little nearer if you'll only mind the paint. Mind the paint. The refrain is repeated as before. Mrs. Upjohn rising and taking a share in it. Then Lily drops on the setee before the writing table, laughing and holding up her hands in protest. No more, boys. Roper von Rittenmeyer and De Castro gather round her, applauding her and urging her to continue. No, no, no more. I've had such a stiff day. Mrs. Upjohn with sudden energy to everybody. Out you go. All of you, out you go. Jimmy to the man. Come on, let's missile. Shaking hands with farm comb. Cruel of us to tire or so. Mrs. Upjohn tapping von Rittenmeyer on the shoulder. Now then, Baron. Von Rittenmeyer shaking hands with Lily. I'm going. Jimmy taking von Rittenmeyer to the door. Well, go. Mrs. Upjohn pulling Roper away from Lily. Now I'm cold. Roper adjusting his coat. Mind the paint, Ma. Goodbye, Lil. Lily as she shakes hands with De Castro, calling to Jimmy. Goodbye. Jimmy and von Rittenmeyer disappear. Now, Mr. De Castro. Moving with Roper towards the door. How ever do you think she's going to get through her work tonight? De Castro pausing to comb his mustache. Quite right, Ma. Thoughtlessly. And a thupper and a damnth afterwards. Roper turning upon him quickly. Shhh. Damn fool. De Castro clapping his hands to his mouth. Oh! And a glance at G's who, hearing De Castro's remark, has left the window and come forward a step or two. Uh, good-bye, Nicko. Good-bye. Good-bye. Bland talking to Lily, neither of them having heard De Castro's slip. That jingle. An echo of old times, eh? Lily looking up at him. Yes, but not better times than these times, Finn. Bland, sadly, holding her hand. Ah, Lil. There are so many tunes in life left for you, my dear. Roper at the door with Mrs. Upjana De Castro to Bland. Come along, Vincent. Bland joins the group at the door as Farncombe approaches Lily. Farncombe shaking hands with her. Thank you. With fervor. Glorious. Lily reproachfully. For shame. I mean it. Psh. Lightly. See you again some day, perhaps? Ah, yes. Roper calling to Farncombe. Coming our way, Farncombe. Roper bland and De Castro depart. Farncombe bows to Lily and makes for the door. Farncombe to G's. Good-bye, Captain J's. G's who has wandered to the entrance of the conservatory, where he is now standing with his back to the room, half turning. Good-bye. Farncombe shaking hands with Mrs. Upjana. Delightful. Enjoyed myself amazingly. Mrs. Upjana graciously. Ah, we're always glad when a few folks pop in. He rings her hand. If they don't overstay there, welcome. Naturally. Hurdly. Good-bye. He vanishes. Mrs. Upjana remaining at the door. Captain. G's advancing. I just want half a dozen words with Lily, Mrs. Upjana. Lily to Mrs. Upjana. Tell Lord to put out my old green frog mother. I'll be up in a minute or two. Mrs. Upjana to G's. Now you won't keep our longer will you? G's grimly. Oh, no, I know she won't be in bed till four o'clock tomorrow morning at the earliest. Mrs. Upjana goes out, closing the door, and G's comes to Lily. So, Smith is giving you a grand feat tonight at the theatre, Lil? Lily arranging the pillows on the setee. In the foyer. And a dance, it appears. Lily yawning. Oh. Lying upon the setee at full length. Who told you, grumpy? Roper and your mother told me about the supper. You didn't. Ha ha. You were in such a vile mood last night, coming home. Who will there be to dance with tonight? The men of the company. That doesn't sound very inspiring. Rather school-treaty, isn't it? Nobody from outside? No, it's to be only the men in the theatre and the principal ladies. Roper's going. Uncle Lell? Oh well, he's hardly from outside. And De Castro? Sam? I'm sure of it, from something I heard him say just now. Sam used to finance Carlton. I suppose they reckon him one of us. G's sitting in the chair in the middle of the room. Smith might have extended the compliment to me, Lil. He knows how I stand towards you. Awfully sorry. I can't help it. G's twining his fingers together. You see, if Roper and De Castro are asked, there may be others. Lily changing her position. Oh la la la la la. G's with a set jaw. Some of the more juvenile boys, perhaps. Exemining his nails. Lil. What? When did you make the acquaintance of the young sprig of the nobility who's been here this afternoon? Lord Forncombe. Bertie brought him and introduced him one day last week. Ha! He's at your feet now. Oh, you may fuh. He's in front every blessed night. There he sits. Roby. Three stalls from the end. Prompt side. There are a few good-looking girls at the Pandora besides your humble servant. Rubbish. His glass follows you all over the stage. I watched him talking to you in this room. Lily racing herself. Did you indeed? G's beating his clenched hands upon the arms of the chair. God in heaven! First it's one, then it's another chasing you. Lily putting her feet to the ground. Oh, you're maddening, Nico. You are. You're maddening. Last night it was Stewie Henney she chose to be jealous of, simply because you'd hurt him sounding my praises at Catani's. He almost broke the window of the car you went on so. I confess I object to Henneyage or any man raving about you at the top of his voice in a public place. Seeks alive. Why shouldn't Stewie rave about me in a public place if he feels like it? I belong to the public. He might rave about a girl who's a jolly sight less deserving of being raved about as a girl and an artist than I am. Oh, well, this must Henneyage. Yes, exit Stewie and enter somebody else for you to fuss and fume about. This afternoon it's Lord Farncombe and tomorrow it'll be a fresh person altogether. One thing to hear you, but I don't know how to take care of myself and of any poor boy who loses his head over me. Rising and walking away. You're growing worse and worse with your jealousy, Nico. Stop it. I'm not surprised at you after all these years. It's beginning to fret me and that's bad for my spirits and bad for me in business. At the tea table grabbing a piece of bread and butter and biting at it. And now you're making me spoil my dinner. Relenting. That's not good for me either, you brute. Geez, his hands hanging loosely between his knees sighing heavily. Oh, Lily. Lily. Yes, oh, Lily, Lily. Why? Why don't you put me out of my misery? Lily Mudging. Poison you? Marry me. Lily behind his chair. Marry you? Taking his handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping her fingers upon it sarcastically. Have you come to tell me you've got some work to do at last? Break it gently, Nico. The shock might be too great for me. Oh, I'd find a billet soon enough, Lil. I've only eyed an incentive to hunt for it. Incentive? You had an incentive twelve months ago, when I was willing to engage myself to you, absolutely, if you could obtain a good secretary ship or something of the sort. I have no fancy for a beggarly secretary ship. No. All you've a fancy for, seemingly, is for living on your unfortunate people. Throwing him his handkerchief and leaving him. How a man of your age can rest satisfied with being a burden to others passes my dull comprehension. I have been a bit slack I own. I have been a bit leisurely, but... Lily inspecting some of the flowers about the room. Nico, that pendant or whatever it is you've given me. I don't want to hurt you, but I won't accept it. You take it away with you, do you hear? Jeez, not heeding her, weakly. No. I'm in earnest. You remove it off my premises. No. She returns to him. My eldest brother, Robert. Looking up at her. Bob. She nods inquiringly. Bob's at me to go out to Rhodesia, to the manager group of stock farms he's interested in near Belowio. Oh, why don't you go? Jeez, forlornly. Rhodesia, Belowio. Looking up at her again with a dismal smile. Come with me. Don't be absurd. Jeez, rising and putting his hands upon her shoulders. No, you wouldn't care a straw, not a brass farthing if I did go, would you? Lily, softening again. Stuff. I should miss you horribly. Toying with a button of his waistcoat. Who'd bring me home from the theatre at night, then, and from rehearsals? Who... Ah, who? His grip tightening on her. Who? Lily, wincing. You'll bruise my skin if you're not careful. Jeez, taking her hand and crumpling it in his. Well, it might be that you'd miss me for a while, the old dog that you're accustomed to find lying on your doormat. Pressing her hand to his lips. But you don't love me, Lil. Not even as much as you did a year ago. You don't love me. Lily with a faint shrug of her shoulders. Perhaps I don't, in the way you mean. Wisfully. Perhaps it's not in me, really, to love anybody in a marrying way. Meeting his eyes. Still, as you say. As I say. Lily pursing her mouth at him, winningly. I'm accustomed to you, Nicko. He draws her to him. But with a laugh she checks him by offering him her head to kiss. There. Putting the point of her finger playfully on the crown of her head. You may there. As he kisses her. Now I must run upstairs, or mother will whack me. Jeez, detaining her. Won't you allow me to fetch you after the dance? Three or four in the morning. No, I'll give you a rest. Uncle Lyle or Sam will take on your job. Going to the door. And don't try to see me to-morrow. Jeez, sharply. Why not? Not till you turn up at night, as usual. I shall be a shocking rag all day. Jeez, breaking out. Yes, I expect you'll manage to enjoy yourself thoroughly, and dance yourself off your feet, whoever your partners may be. Lily willfully. Expect I shall. Tossing her head up. I'll do my best. She departs leaving him standing near the tea-table. He takes out his handkerchief and mobs his brow. As he does so, his eyes rest upon the telephone instrument on the writing-table, and he stares at it. He hesitates, as if struggling to resist an impulse. Then he goes quickly to the instrument and puts the receiver to his ear. Jeez, after a pause. Gerard, three, eight, four, eight. Discovering that Lily has left the door wide open, he lays the receiver upon the writing-table, and goes to the door and shuts it. Then he returns to the writing-table, and again listens at the receiver. Is that the office of the Pandora Theater? Suddenly imitating the voice of DeCastro. If Mr. Morse cooling in, I'm Mr. DeCastro, Sam DeCastro. Gone, is he? Oh, is that you, Mr. Hickson? Yes, you'll do. About the supper party tonight that Mr. Smith is giving to Miss Paradell. You're there? I didn't quite understand whether it's to be at the theater or at restaurant. At the theater? Oh, yes. A large party? Oh, that is nice. Who are the guests, do you know? Yes? Yes. Oh, and the boys? Oh, so much the boys are coming, are they? Hey, haven't got the list from Mr. Roper yet? Oh, he's been helping to get it up. We shall have a splendid time. The boys? Yes, yes. Ha ha ha ha. Thanks, goodbye. He replaces the receiver and stands looking at the door for a moment. Then with his head bent and his hands clasped behind him, he goes slowly out. End of Act One.