Bradley. What do you take me for--twins?
Yardsley. Don't get mad, now, Bradley. If there's anything that can
add to the terror of amateur theatricals it's temper.
Mrs. Bradley (from without). Edward, come here right away. I want
you to move the hat-stand, and see how many people can be seated in
this hall.
Bradley. Oh yes, certainly, my dear--of course. Right away. My
name is Legion--or Dennis.
Yardsley. That's the spirit. (A crash is heard without.) Great
Scott! What's that?
Mrs. Perkins (without). Oh, Thaddeus!
Bradley. They've dropped the cook's delight.
[He comes down from the stepladder. He and Yardsley go out. The
pictures are piled up on the floor, the furniture is topsy-turvy, and
the portieres lie in a heap on the hearth.
Enter Mrs. Perkins.
Mrs. Perkins. Dear, dear, dear! What a mess! And poor Thaddeus!
I'm glad he wasn't hurt; but I--I'm afraid I heard him say words I
never heard him say before when Mr. Barlow let the table slip. Wish
I hadn't said anything about the table.
Enter Mrs. Bradley.
Mrs. Bradley. These men will drive me crazy.
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