Mrs. Perkins. It seems to have made these men crazy. I never saw such strange behavior in all my life. (The telephone-bell rings.) What can that be? (Goes to ’phone, which stands just outside parlor door.) Hello! What? Yes, this is 1181—yes. Who are you? What? Emma? Oh dear, I’m so glad! Are you alive? Where are you? What? Where? The police-station! (Turning from telephone.) Thaddeus, Mr. Barlow, Mr. Yardsley. (Into telephone.) Hello! What for? What? Riding without a lamp! Arrested at Forty-second Street! Want to be bailed out? (Drops receiver. Rushes into parlor and throws herself on sofa.) To think of it—Emma Bradley! (Telephone-bell rings violently again; Mrs. Perkins goes to it.) Hello! Yes. Tell Ed what? To ask for Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins. Who’s she? What, you! (Drops the receiver; runs to window.) Thaddeus! Mr. Yardsley! Mr. Barlow!—all of you come here, quick.
[They rush in. Perkins with shawl-strap about his waist—limping. Barlow has large air-pump in his hand. Mrs. Perkins grows faint.
Perkins. Great heavens! What’s the matter?
Barlow. Get some water—quick!
[Yardsley runs for water.
Mrs. Perkins. Air! Give me air!
Perkins (grabbing pump from Barlow’s hand). Don’t stand there like an idiot! Act! She wants air!
[Places pump on floor and begins to pump air at her.
Barlow. Who’s the idiot now? Wheel her over to the window. She’s not a bicycle.
They do so. Mrs. Perkins revives.