Florence. I think I do. Do you want me to go back?
Mrs. Pampinelli. No, that’s quite all right. We’ll take it right from Mr. Hossefrosse’s line, [She turns toward Hossefrosse. And Mrs. Ritter takes advantage of the circumstance to offer Florence a cake; which, of course, is declined with thanks. Then she turns to Mrs. Pampinelli and waits till the lady has finished directing Hossefrosse.] “What do you want me to do?” [Mrs. P. turns back, to be confronted with the cakes and claret; and she takes both. Then she and Paula move back towards the center-door.]
Hossefrosse. [Clearing his throat] What do you want me to do? [Paula gives a shriek of laughter, at something Mrs. Pampinelli whispers to her. Then Paula goes out through the center-door and offers Twiller, who is still sitting half-way up the stairs, some cake, which he accepts, and then Teddy, who declines, and finally, after taking another one herself, sets the plate down on the hallway table and resumes her chair up at the left; while Mrs. Pampinelli, cake and claret in hand, wanders forward at the right, passing over between the piano and the table below it.]
Florence. I’ve already told you.
Hossefrosse. Then, I suppose I’m simply to decline all women patients in the future, [She makes a little sound of amusement.] or else submit them for general approval. [He now presses the imaginary fire out of the cigarette on the imaginary tray on the table.]
Florence. Stick to your guns, Clyde.
Hossefrosse. That’s the only thing I see to do. [Mrs. Pampinelli stands over at the right watching the scene, and eating and drinking.]
Florence. Your tenacity is commendable, but it’s a lost cause. [Looking at him steadily] I appreciate your embarrassment—
Hossefrosse. [Turning to her, thrusting his hands into his coat-pockets, tilting his chin, and looking at her with an absurdly perky expression] I’m not embarrassed.
Florence. Desolation, then.