Mrs. Perkins. But I don’t see how that can be. Nobody could come in there. There wouldn’t be room behind for any one to stand, would there?
Bradley. I don’t know. That fireplace is large, and only two people have to come in that way. The rising curtain discloses Gwendoline just having come in. If Hartley, the villain, and Jack Pendleton, the manly young navy officer, who represents virtue, and dashes in at the right moment to save Gwendoline, could sit close and stand the discomfort of it, they might squeeze in there and await their cues.
Mrs. Perkins. Sit in the fireplace?
Yardsley. Yes. Why not?
Perkins. Don’t you interfere, Bess, Yardsley is managing this show, and if he wants to keep the soubrette waiting on the mantel-piece it’s his lookout, and not ours.
Yardsley. By-the-way, Thaddeus, Wilkins has backed out, and you are to play the villain.
Perkins. I? Never!
Barlow. Oh, but you must. All you have to do is frown and rant and look real bad.
Perkins. But I can’t act.
Bradley. That doesn’t make any difference. We don’t want a villain that the audience will fall in love with. That would be immoral. The more you make them despise you, the better.