Boy. Did you ring, Sir?
Smith. No. But you can show the lady up. (Exit Boy.) You'd better clear out, Jones. I'll explain to her about the money.
Smith. Right you are, Sir. (Exit.)
(Smith leans back in his chair and stares in front of him.)
Smith (to himself). Arabella!
Enter Boy, followed by a stylishly dressed lady of middle age.
Boy. Mrs. Robinson. (Exit.)
(Mrs. Robinson stops short in the middle of the room and stares at the Editor; then staggers and drops on to the sofa.)
Smith (in wonder). Arabella!
Mrs. Robinson. William!