Mrs. Fell. [At the telephone] Yes?—Yes?—Who?—Oh,—well, wait just one moment, please.
Mrs. Pampinelli. What is it?
Mrs. Fell. [Holding the transmitter against her bosom and leaning over the partition towards Mrs. Pampinelli] It’s the Star Moving Picture Company.
Mrs. Pampinelli. What do they want?
Mrs. Fell. They want the address of Mrs. Ritter’s manager. [Mrs. Pampinelli gives a quick look at Mrs. Ritter.]
Mrs. Pampinelli. [To Mrs. Ritter] I anticipated this. [She goes quickly towards the center-door, laying her fan and roses on the left partition-seat, as she passes out into the hallway.] Give it to me, Nelly. [Nelly hands her the telephone, and, picking up the orchids from the chair, tiptoes back of Mrs. Pampinelli and in through the center-door.]
Mrs. Fell. [In an excited whisper to Mrs. Ritter] What did I tell you! [She giggles nervously, shakes her finger at Mrs. Ritter, and then watches Mrs. Pampinelli eagerly.]
Mrs. Pampinelli. [Into the telephone] Hello-hello—This is Mrs. Ritter’s manager speaking. Mrs. Pampinelli. Pampinelli. Mrs. J. Duro Pampinelli. Capital P—a—m, p—i—n, e—double l—i.—Correct. Yes—I see—I see.—Well, how do you mean, a thousand dollars, a thousand dollars a day, or a thous—I see. Well, just one moment, please. [She lowers the telephone and leans towards Mrs. Ritter, speaking in a subdued tone.] The Star Moving Picture Company wants to know if Mrs. Ritter will appear in a special production of tonight’s play before the camera.
Mrs. Fell. [Narrowing her left eye] What’s the figure?
Mrs. Pampinelli. One thousand dollars per week.