Mrs. Perkins. Oh, Emma! You don't think--
Perkins. Cheerful prospect. But I say, Yardsley, you have arranged
for the water supply; how about its exit? How does the water get out
of the tub?
Yardsley. It doesn't, unless you want to bore a hole in the floor,
and let it flow into the billiard-room below. We've just got to
hustle that scene along, so that the climax will be reached before
the tub overflows.
Barlow. Perhaps we'd better test the thing now. Maybe my tub isn't
large enough for the scene. It would be awkward if the heroine had
to seize a dipper and bail the fountain out right in the middle of an
impassioned rebuke to Hartley.
Perkins. All right--go ahead. Test it. Test anything. I'll supply
the Croton pipes.
Yardsley. None of you fellows happen to have a length of hose with
you, do you?
Bradley. I left mine in my other clothes.
Mrs. Bradley. That's just like you men. You grow flippant over very
serious matters. For my part, if I am to play Gwendoline, I shall
not bail out the fountain even to save poor dear Bessie's floor.
Yardsley. Oh, it'll be all right.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53