Florence. [Beyond the flats] Too bad my husband isn’t here.
Twiller. [Beyond the flats] Yes, it is; I had counted upon seeing him.
Florence. I’m sure he’d be able to explain.
Twiller. Well, I hope he would!—the thing is damned annoying! [Mrs. Ritter gives an unearthly laugh, which is supposed to express derision. Mrs. Fell looks up from her manuscript, and Mrs. Pampinelli smiles and nods approvingly at her.] Even if you don’t appreciate it!
Mrs. Fell. Wonderful. [She turns and smiles and nods at Hossefrosse; then they all listen again. The stage manager, who has arisen from his chair at the sound of Mrs. Ritter’s disdainful laughter, comes forward at the left, with his pipe in one hand and his newspaper in the other. He has a puzzled, inquiring expression, and looks from one to the other quizzically; but Mrs. Pampinelli has her back to him, Mrs. Fell is looking at her manuscript, and Mr. Hossefrosse’s face is, as usual, utterly expressionless, so he steps to the juncture of the back flats with the side wings and peeks through, curiously. Then he returns to his chair up at the left, shaking his head from side to side.]
Mrs. Ritter. [Beyond the flats] I don’t know what it is, yet!
Twiller. [Beyond the flats] You know very well what it is!
Mrs. Ritter. You haven’t told us.
Twiller. You’re here, aren’t you!
Mrs. Ritter. Yes.