There’s a brilliant array of cushions about the room, all shapes and sizes, and every color of the rainbow,—and many books and magazines. The piano, up at the right, is littered with music, cigarettes, in a fancy container, flowers and candy—in a pretty box made of pink satin.
The two arm-chairs in the room, one just to the left of the table below the window, and the other at the left side of the table over at the left, are over-stuffed in green-and-silver brocade.
There is a small table below the piano, with a light little chair beside it, the left side, and there is a similar chair over at the extreme left, below the door.
The keyboard of the piano parallels the right wall, with enough room, of course, between the piano-stool and wall to permit of easy use of the door. There must also be room enough above the piano for a passageway between it and the partition-seat.
The rights and lefts employed in the foregoing descriptions are, of course, the player’s rights and lefts.
ACT ONE.
After a slight pause, a door out at the right is heard to close, and immediately Mr. Ritter comes along the hallway beyond the partition and into the room. He is a brisk, rather stocky type of man, in his early forties, wearing a brown suit and overcoat, a derby hat, and carrying a suit-case. He sets the suit-case down on the partition-seat at the right, and, with a glance around the room, at the unusual arrangement of the furniture, starts out into the hallway again, removing his gloves and overcoat. He glances along the hallway to the left and up the stairs as he goes. Jenny comes along the hallway from the left carrying a small, light chair. As she is about to come into the drawing-room proper from the hallway, she becomes conscious of Mr. Ritter out at the hall-rack at the right. She stops and peers in that direction. She is a pleasant little English person, plump and trim, dressed in the regulation parlor-maid’s black and white.
Jenny. Is that you, Mr. Ritter?