Ritter. [Rather slowly] No,—I don’t mind, if you’re able to get away with it.
Mrs. R. [Trailing across back of his chair] I didn’t think you would.
Ritter. [Raising his hand from the table quietly] But a—[She comes to a stop and regards him over her left shoulder.] I don’t want any of these women exploiting you for their own vanity. [She doesn’t quite encompass his meaning, and stands looking at him for a second. Then she abstractedly lays the book down on the table beside him. There is a very definite ring at the front door-bell.] I guess that’s some of the people. [She starts towards the hallway.]
Ritter. [Preparing to rise] Where do you do this thing, here?
Mrs. R. [Turning to him and indicating the general arrangement] Yes—just the way we have it fixed.
Ritter. [Rising briskly and crossing to the table below the piano at the right, while Mrs. R. continues to the center-door and stands looking toward the front door. Jenny appears in the left hallway.] I think I’ll beat it upstairs.
Mrs. R. [Turning to Jenny] I guess that’s some of the people, Jenny. [She comes forward towards Ritter again.]
Jenny. Yes, mam. [She passes back of Mrs. Ritter and along out into the right hallway to answer the door.]
Mrs. R. Won’t you wait and see the rehearsal, Fred? [He is gathering up the telegrams from the table, where he left them earlier.]
Ritter. [Turning and going up towards the center-door, thrusting the telegrams into his inside pocket] No, I think I’d rather wait and see the show. [He passes her, to her left.]