POOR MAN. [Solemnly.] "I swear to accept indigestion for better or for worse as my portion of the world's miseries, so help me God."
JUDGE. [To Imp.] Show this gentleman to the changing-room.
[Poor Man follows Imp, who conducts him to the heavily curtained door. The Poor Man throws out his chest and swaggers a bit, as a man might who had suddenly come into a fortune. Imp swaggers along with him.
IMP. Won't you have a grand time, though. I'll get you a menu card, so that you can be picking out your dinner.
POOR MAN. [Joyfully slapping Imp on the back.] Good idea, and I'll pick out a regular banquet.
[Pausing a moment before he passes through the curtains, he smiles and smacks his lips in anticipation. Exit.
JUDGE. [Speaks disgustedly to Imp.] There you are! He's perfectly satisfied with his morals. Has no defects in his character. Just wants to have a good time.
[Sighs heavily and turns back to his writing. Imp nods his head in agreement and chuckles slyly.
[The street door opens slowly and the Vain Woman stands upon the threshold. She does not enter at once, but stands posing—presumably she desires to attract attention, and she is worthy of it. She has a superb figure, and her rich gowning enhances it. Her fair face reveals a shallow prettiness, but the wrinkles of age are beginning to leave telltale lines upon its smoothness. As Imp hurries forward to usher her in, she sweeps grandly past him to the centre of the stage. Imp stops near the door, with his hands on his hips, staring after her, then takes a few steps in imitation of her. She turns around slowly and, sauntering over to the railing, coughs affectedly, and as the Judge rises and bows curtly, she speaks in a coaxing manner.
VAIN WOMAN. Judge, I have heard that you are very kind, and I have been told that you help people out of their troubles, so I have a little favor to ask of you.