Yardsley. Yes, you idiot, but that’s supposed to be the front-door bell. Lady Amaranth is about to arrive—
Perkins. Well, how was I to know? Your instructions to me were positive. Don’t monkey with curtain till bell rings. When bell rings, if down, pull her up; if up, pull her down. I’m not a connoisseur on bells—
Yardsley. You might pay some attention to the play.
Perkins. Now look here, Bob. I don’t want to quarrel with you, but it seems to me that I’ve got enough to do without paying attention to your part of the show. What am I? First place, host; second place, head usher; third place, curtain-manager; fourth place, fire department; fifth place, Bess says if children holler, go up and see what’s the matter other words, nurse—and on top of this you say keep an eye on the play. You must think I’ve as many eyes as a President’s message.
Mrs. Perkins. Oh dear, Teddy! do behave. It’s simple enough—
Perkins. Simple enough? Well, I like that. How am I to tell one bell from another if—
Yardsley (dryly). I suppose if the clock strikes ten you’ll seesaw the curtain up and down ten times, once for each stroke—eh?
Bradley (poking his head in at the door). What’s the matter in here? Emma’s been waiting for her cue like a hundred-yards runner before the pistol.
Perkins. Oh, it’s the usual trouble with Yardsley. He wants me to chaperon the universe.
Yardsley. It’s the usual row with you. You never want to do anything straight. You seem to think that curtain’s an elevator, and you’re the boy—yanking it up and down at your pleasure, and—