Mrs. Ritter. Is my sweetie in?
Teddy. No, mam, he ain’t.
Mrs. Ritter. [With an unnatural inflection] What!
Mrs. Fell. [Calling over in a whisper to Mrs. Pampinelli] Betty! [Mrs. Pampinelli doesn’t hear her, so she tiptoes over towards her.] Betty!
Mrs. Pampinelli. What?
Mrs. Fell. Did Paula trip?
Mrs. Pampinelli. [Coming away from the flat, and moving down to Mrs. Fell] Yes. [Mrs. Fell gives an annoyed shake of her head.] But I don’t see how anyone can get onto that stage without tripping.
Mrs. Fell. I don’t either.
Mrs. Pampinelli. It seems an utter impossibility to me for anyone, especially a woman, to get through those doors without catching her heel or her skirt or something. [Spindler crosses to the left, back of the ladies, and speaks to Twiller.]
Mrs. Fell. [Returning to the right door] It’s dreadful!