SCENE.—Any plain interior will serve. Entrances R. and L. Table up C. May be furnished, if preferred, as a country hotel office, with table C., counter up L., with ink-bottle and pen, and bell. Posters on walls advertising county fairs and circuses, sales of stock, etc. A few old wooden armchairs scattered about.
(Curtain rises on empty stage. After a slight pause enter Miss Calcium, R.)
Miss C. Well, this place is well named. It’s the Quiet Hotel, all right. It ought to be a fine rest cure for my tired nerves. (Calls musically.) Hello! (Listens.) My, just hear that echo! (Calls again.) Hello! Hello! No answer. I never before saw a house so completely full of emptiness. (Calls.) Landlord! Clerk! Bell-boy! Telephone operator! Waiter! Chambermaid!
(Each time she calls she raps on counter or floor with umbrella.)
(Enter Susan, L., leisurely, with hands in apron pockets.)
Susan. Oh, good-morning! Er—were you looking for any one?
Miss C. (loudly). Looking for—— Say, is this really a hotel?
Susan. Certainly. A little less noise, please. We’re not used to it.
Miss C. Oh, indeed. And who are you, please?
Susan. Who, me? Oh, I’m it.