THE MOTHER (supplicatingly). I beg you, sir, to let it
appear quite plain that for conscience sake I did try in every
way . . .

THE STEP-DAUGHTER (interrupting indignantly and con-
tinuing for the Mother). . . . to pacify me, to dissuade me
from spiting him. (To Manager). Do as she wants: satisfy
her, because it is true! I enjoy it immensely. Anyhow, as
you can see, the meeker she is, the more she tries to get at
his heart, the more distant and aloof does he become.

THE MANAGER. Are we going to begin this second act
or not?

THE STEP-DAUGHTER. I'm not going to talk any more
now. But I must tell you this: you can't have the whole
action take place in the garden, as you suggest. It isn't
possible!

THE MANAGER. Why not?

THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Because he (indicates the Son
again) is always shut up alone in his room. And then there's
all the part of that poor dazed-looking boy there which takes
place indoors.

THE MANAGER. Maybe! On the other hand, you will
understand--we can't change scenes three or four times in
one act.

THE LEADING MAN. They used to once.

THE MANAGER. Yes, when the public was up to the
level of that child there.

THE LEADING LADY. It makes the illusion easier.

THE FATHER (irritated). The illusion! For Heaven's
sake, don't say illusion. Please don't use that word, which is
particularly painful for us.

THE MANAGER (astounded). And why, if you please?

THE FATHER. It's painful, cruel, really cruel; and you
ought to understand that.

THE MANAGER. But why? What ought we to say

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