Spindler. All right, Mr. Stage Manager!
Stage Manager. [Off at the left] Are you ready?
Mrs. Pampinelli and Spindler, together.
Mrs. Pampinelli. Yes, all ready, Mr. Stage Manager!
Spindler. Let her go!
Mrs. Pampinelli. [Turning and coming forward at the left] Take it up! [She stands just to the left of the left door, peering through the flats. Spindler is farther back at the left, peering, also; and Mrs. Fell is over at the right door, peering. There is a pause. Mr. Hossefrosse takes up his position outside the left door, preparatory to making his entrance. He settles his clothes generally, and clears his throat.] The curtain is going up, Mr. Hossefrosse, go on.
Hossefrosse. Is it up?
Mrs. Pampinelli. Yes, yes, go on! [He opens the door, rather magnificently, and swings in. There is a ripple of applause, and the door closes after him; and they all try to find a crevice between the flats that will afford a glimpse of the stage beyond. The stage manager appears from the left carrying a regulation door-slam, which he brings forward and drops, with a bang, just to the left of the left door. They all turn and look at him, in resentful astonishment, but he simply gives them a look of infinite disdain and returns to his chair at the back to read.]
Hossefrosse. [Beyond the flats] Anybody here, David?
Teddy. [Beyond the flats, over toward the right] No, sir.
Hossefrosse. [Beyond the flats, moving towards the right] No telephones?