TULLY. Oh, I couldn’t do that, I’ll call John. (Going to door R.)
MAMIE (pulling TULLY back). No, don’t call John. It’s only natural if you are supposed to be my husband that you should help me in this matter. And if you don’t, you’ll get it in the neck right where the chicken got the axe. (On the verge of tears, she crosses and sits C., searching in her handbag for letter.) Just read this letter. It’s from the Rajah—I’ve never had such things said to me in my life—boo—boo—boo! (Crying.)
TULLY (patting back of chair). Don’t cry, child, don’t cry.
MAMIE. Where did I put it? In my bag? No! (Rising.) I remember, I put it in my dress for safety.
TULLY. Oh! oh!
MAMIE. Would you mind unhooking my dress at the back, please.
TULLY (very embarrassed). Really I’m a single man!
MAMIE. Well, these are single hooks.
TULLY (crosses to door R.). I’ll call John!
MAMIE. Please don’t call John.