He was slumped in a chair wearing a crushed pin-stripe suit and drinking chicken soup out of a carton when Robin entered. He lifted his head wearily, smiled, then called to his wife.
"The song is out. I've just remembered it isn't in the P.D."
"The legal department said it is," Mrs. Sachs answered in a discouraged voice.
"They're wrong. Oh yes. Make a note. We'll need three extra costumes and a magician. No Mind Acts. They're not televisionwise. I want a different Sawing A Woman In Half. Something fresh."
Mrs. Sachs made notes.
"Also a dog act. Call the music department and see if we can get a small band arrangement of Piston's 'Incredible Flautist.'"
"Why?" Mrs. Sachs asked.
"Because it's scored for dog barks," Sachs answered as though that explained everything. Apparently it did. His wife moused out and closed the door. Sachs smiled at Robin.
"Always rushed," he said wearily. "This is last night's dinner." He finished the soup, got up and slouched around Robin, examining her sleepily. "Yes. Yes, I see. The Hedda Gabler type." Suddenly he crouched at the desk, yanked out a bottom drawer and threw his handkerchief in. "'Now I'm burning your child, Thea! Burning it, curly-locks!' Manuscript into the stove business." He threw in his small change and a pack of cigarettes. "'Your child and Eilet Lövborg's. I am burning—I am burning your child!' Slow curtain."
Robin gaped at him.