Lord A. How d'you do? I've just run down to tell Lord Larkspur to—
Miss D. He's in the library. At least he—
Lord A. (taking out his watch.) Ah, then perhaps I'd better—
[Exit by door on left.]
Miss D. (to Lady L.). Have you seen "The Times" about here? There is a set of verses in the Financial Supplement which Lord Larkspur wanted to—(She wanders vaguely round the room. Enter Lord Larkspur by door at back.) Why, here you are! I've just sent Lord Arthur into the library to—
Lord L. I went out to speak to the gardener about—
Lady L. Ah, then I'll go and tell Arthur—[Exit to library, leaving Miss Devereux and Lord Larkspur alone.
And there you are. You will, of course, appreciate that the unfinished sentences not only save time, but also make the manoeuvring very much more natural.
So far I have been writing as if you were already in the thick of your play; but it may well be that the enormous difficulty of getting the first character on has been too much for you. How, you may be wondering, are you to begin your masterpiece?
The answer to this will depend upon the length of the play, for upon the length depends the hour at which the curtain rises. If yours is an 8.15 play you may be sure that the stalls will not fill up till 8.30, and you should therefore let loose the lesser-paid members of the cast on the opening scene, keeping your fifty-pounders in reserve. In an 8.45 play the audience may be plunged into the drama at once. But this is much the more difficult thing to do, and for the beginner I should certainly recommend the 8.15 play, for which the recipe is simple.