Peale. No, not till way next Monday. Why don’t you telephone him?
Ellery. Yes, that wouldn’t be so distressing. If I can get him—I find him considerably easier to talk to on the ’phone. I can always ring off.
Peale. Come this way—it’ll be quieter for you if he’s noisy. (Goes to Ellery, takes his arm, and leads him to door lower R.)
Mary. (Enters door lower R.) Oh, how do you do, Mr. Clark?
Ellery. Oh, how do you do? (They shake hands)
Peale. (Pushing him out) Never mind the social chatter. Ellery, you don’t mind my calling you Ellery—do you, Ellery? (To her) You see, Ellery has work to do. (Exit Ellery. Mary goes to L.) If that’s a model son, thank God I was born a black sheep!
Rodney. (To Mary) Has the Imperator docked?
Mary. Three hours ago.
Peale. Then I’ll bet the Countess has been hit by a taxi! (Drinks)