Miss Ivory. I have visions of rehearsing all night outside the night before the opening.
Ruler. I'm used to doing that, my dear. What gets me is the story of the plot the Sunday edition printed. How can the newspaper know the plot before the playwright does?
Miss Ivory. Doesn't Mr. Sud know his own plot?
Ruler. Why! No, my part's not written after the second act.
Miss Ivory. My part isn't either, but it doesn't worry me. These authors—[She points to her forehead.] I don't memorize until dress rehearsal night. What's the use. They don't know themselves by that time what lines they told you to keep in or put in or take out. The next morning the critics re-write it anyway for the manager—I don't begin to memorize really—until we're settled for a run.
Ruler [worried]. You'll throw me all out if you give wrong cues—
Miss Ivory [rises and strolls about]. Oh! When I can't use my tongue, I let my eyes talk. The public doesn't know the difference. I don't have to act, just be myself. They engage me for my eyes.
Sud. Ah! Here's a precious line [Goes up to Ruler.], take it down, Mr. Ruler. "I was in the neighborhood looking for some real estate." [All the players suppress a laugh.] Now, Mr. Ruler, you enter in time—[Sud goes down the stairs again.] You enter in time to interrupt Mr. Inkwell's declaration of love to Miss Ivory. They spring apart—spring! Mr. Inkwell! [Inkwell springs.] No, the house is not on fire!—I didn't say jump.
Inkwell. Spring is the same as jump!
[Ruler enters from left. Inkwell goes right, Miss Ivory comes center.]