I will draw a veil over the painful scene. B-r-r-r-r. (Drops
curtain.) B-r-r-r-r.
[Raises it again.
Yardsley. We won't dispute the matter, Bradley. You are wrong, and
that's all there is about it. Now do get off the stage and let us go
ahead. Perkins, for Heaven's sake, give that curtain a rest, will
you?
Perkins. I was only having a dress-rehearsal on my own account, Bob.
Bike bell, curtain. Push bell, front door. Trolley gong, nothing--
Bradley. Well, if you fellows won't--
Yardsley (taking him by the arm and walking him to side of stage).
Never mind, Brad; you've made a mistake, that's all. We all make
mistakes at times. Get off, like a good fellow. You don't come on
for ten minutes yet. (Exit Bradley, scratching his head in puzzled
meditation.) Go ahead now, Barlow.
Mrs. Bradley. But, Mr. Yardsley, Edward has--
Yardsley. We'll begin with your cue.
Mrs. Bradley. Fenderson Featherhead--
Barlow. Is here, Lady Amaranth.
Mrs. Bradley. But--
Yardsley. No, no! Your word isn't "but," Mrs. Bradley. It's
(consulting book)--it's: "Insolent! You will cross my path once too
often, and then--
Enter Bradley.
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