FORESON. Herb! Call the boss, and tell beginners to stand by. Sharp, now!
[HERBERT gets out of the chair, and goes off Right.] [FORESON is going off Left as VANE mounts the Stage.]
VANE. Mr Foreson.
FORESON. [Re-appearing] Sir?
VANE. I want "Props."
FORESON. [In a stentorian voice] "Props!"
[Another moth-eaten man appears through the French windows.]
VANE. Is that boulder firm?
PROPS. [Going to where, in front of the back-cloth, and apparently among its apple trees, lies the counterfeitment of a mossy boulder; he puts his foot on it] If, you don't put too much weight on it, sir.
VANE. It won't creak?