Mrs. Ritter. [Speaking directly to Teddy] Is my sweetie in? [Ritter moves slowly down to the landing of the stairs, watching his wife as though she were some baffling phenomenon.]
Teddy. No, mam, he ain’t.
Mrs. Ritter. [Drawing her shoulders up, and speaking in a high unnatural key] What!
Teddy. He went about six o’clock.
Mrs. Ritter. Why, I had an appointment with him!
Teddy. He might be back, maybe.
Mrs. Ritter. But, I can’t wait unless I’m certain that he’s coming back.
Teddy. He was expecting you.
Mrs. Ritter. [Still shaking her head and trying generally to appear bold] Yes, I know he was. [Turning to the table at the left, back of which Florence is standing] I suppose I’d better leave a note for him. [She indicates the table with a waving gesture of her left hand.]