Hoover. (Going up the hallway.) My idea too—fun and word of caution. (Gets coat and returns, feeling in pocket for libretto.)
Clayton. Caution—naturally.
Hoover. Here it is. (Reads.) Aida.
Clayton. (Taking libretto savagely.) Aida—let me see it.
Hoover. What’s the matter? (Puts coat on a chair.)
Clayton. (In sudden anger, throws book.) The dog! Damn him—damn both of them!
Hoover. What is it? See here—Who’s with Dick?
Clayton. Not his mother—no! (Points to libretto on the floor.) Marked. I did that myself, not an hour ago, and gave it to her.
Hoover. To Elinor?
Clayton. (Calling as he rushes to the hall.) Sutton! Sutton!