Mrs. Pampinelli. [Turning to him, up near the center-door] It only fell off twice, don’t exaggerate. [Ritter laughs again.]
Mrs. Fell. You bold thing!
Ritter. How many times was it supposed to fall off?
Mrs. Pampinelli. Well, what if it fell off a dozen times,—everybody knew it wasn’t real! [He roars.]
Mrs. Fell. It’s a lucky thing for you, Frederick Ritter, that you’re not my husband!
Ritter. [Quietly] That goes both ways, Nelly.
Mrs. Fell. [Moving across towards him] Well,—when you do something that you’ll get so many flowers that my limousine will have to make three trips to get them to the various hospitals,—we may pay more attention to what you have to say. [She turns away and moves back towards the center of the room, where Mrs. Pampinelli is just moving forward from the center-door.]
Ritter. I suppose most of the audience have gone with the flowers, haven’t they? [Nelly whirls round to retort, but Mrs. Pampinelli lays a restraining hand upon her right arm.]
Mrs. Pampinelli. [With immortal authority] Don’t answer him, Eleanor—“Envy loves a lofty mark.” The next time we have a part that calls for a very limited intelligence, we’ll engage Mr. Ritter for it. [She moves a little down to the right towards Mrs. Ritter.]
Mrs. Fell. [Looking at Ritter] Now!