SUD [_aside_]. That's merely to show the girl has a father.

MISS IVORY. No, he is talking business with Mr. Inkwell.

MRS. PENCIL [_starting_]. Inkwell!

MISS IVORY. Yes, do you know him?

MRS. PENCIL [_evasively_]. I? Oh--no.

MISS IVORY. You've heard of him?

MRS. PENCIL. Yes--of course----

SUD [_aside_]. Do you catch it? Do you see how her nervousness and her few words at once suggest that there is a link between Mrs. Pencil and Inkwell? That's where I show my technique.

WOULDBY [_scratching his head_]. Technique! How can I learn it?

SUD. It is the secret that every playwright locks in his breast. Keep the young ones out! _Mum_ is the word!

MISS IVORY. I am so sorry father has all this trouble with the brick-layers. They shouldn't have gone on a strike--just now--when you are visiting us.

SUD [_to Wouldby_]. That tells that Mrs. Pencil is a guest in Miss Ivory's house.

MISS IVORY. When you were here last year my mother----

SUD [_aside_]. The girl hesitates--they both look sorrowful; we had to cut down the cast, so I killed off her mother.

MRS. PENCIL [_sadly, with foreign accent_]. Ah, my dear--we were such close friends--since my arrival in this country----

SUD [_aside_]. You see, I had to make her a foreigner. A villainess always talks with a foreign accent.

MRS. PENCIL. I haven't had much time to read particulars about the strike. Does your father still refuse to arbitrate?

MISS IVORY [_haughtily_]. What right have brick-layers to make rules for my father? He would show his weakness if he gave in--I have faith that what he does is right.

SUD [_to Wouldby_]. The innocent heroine, so cool and pure and white.

[_The right door opens and Inkwell enters--he starts as he sees Mrs. Pencil; there is a straight look of recognition between them which Miss Ivory does not see._]

SUD [_aside_]. That's a dramatic scene. Doesn't it thrill your spine?

MISS IVORY. Mrs. Pencil, may I introduce Mr. Inkwell--[_Inkwell and Mrs.

Pencil bow slightly._] Will you have a dish of tea?

SUD. Cup, cup of tea.

MISS IVORY. Dish; _dish_ of tea, or I quit. [_Pause._] Which is it?

SUD. Oh, very well, dish if you like.

[_Sud's manner indicates he gives in simply to let the rehearsal progress, but that he will settle with Miss Ivory later._]

MISS IVORY. Please tell me that you have ordered the strikers to come to father's terms?

MR. INKWELL [_at right of table_]. He is looking through his safe for more papers so he asked me to wait in here.

SUD. That's an explanation why he came in.

MISS IVORY [_offering cup_]. How many lumps?

SUD [_aside_]. That question of the number of lumps is very important; it gives a natural air to the scene.

MISS IVORY. I am going to the dining-room to get some arrack for your tea.

MR. INKWELL [_nervously_]. Oh, please don't trouble----

MISS IVORY. No trouble at all.

[_Exit right._]

SUD. When you want to get a character out, you've got to get 'em out.

MR. INKWELL [_at right of table, to Mrs. Pencil_]. You here!

MRS. PENCIL [_at left of table_]. Sch! I had to come! I couldn't live without you any longer----

INKWELL. But in this house?

MRS. PENCIL. I was her mother's friend.

INKWELL. You are indiscreet----

MRS. PENCIL. I was desperate for you! You kept putting me off--when I read about this strike I had to come.

SUD. Mrs. Pencil is the dreadful woman! A play can't exist without her----

WOULDBY. You mean she was his----

SUD [_seriously_]. Oh, yes--the more fuss we make about her the better.

MRS. PENCIL. Oh! Clem! You aren't glad to see me! Oh! that I have lived for this!!!

[_She tears around the stage waving her hands in grief--making faces of agony. Sud rises in astonishment and follows her left._]

SUD [_shrieks in anger_]. Idiot! Can't you talk! Do you think I write lines to be cut? How dare you cut my lines!!!

MRS. PENCIL. I've done just what it says. [_She takes her part from table, reads from it and shows it to him._] "Mrs. Pencil shows extreme despair and pa.s.sionately----"