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a little comic relief into the crudity of the situation. Of course she talks like that! Magnificent! The Step-Daughter Magnificent? Certainly! When certain suggestions are made to one in language of that kind, the effect is certain, since it seems almost a joke. One feels inclined to laugh when one hears her talk about an “old signore” “who wanta talka nicely with you.” Nice old signore, eh, Madame? Maddame Pace Not so old my dear, not so old! And even if you no lika him, he won’t make any scandal! The Mother Jumping up amid the amazement and consternation of the Actors who had not been noticing her. They move to restrain her. You old devil! You murderess! The Step-Daughter Running over to calm her Mother. Calm yourself, mother, calm yourself! Please don’t.⁠ ⁠… The Father Going to her also at the same time. Calm yourself! Don’t get excited! Sit down now! The Mother Well then, take that woman away out of my sight! The Step-Daughter To The Manager. It is impossible for my mother to remain here. The Father To The Manager. They can’t be here together. And for this reason, you see: that woman there was not with us when we came.⁠ ⁠… If they are on together, the whole thing is given away inevitably, as you see. The Manager It doesn’t matter. This is only a first rough sketch⁠—just to get an idea of the various points of the scene, even confusedly.⁠ ⁠… Turning to The Mother and leading her to her chair. Come along, my dear lady, sit down now, and let’s get on with the scene.⁠ ⁠… Meanwhile, The Step-Daughter, coming forward again, turns to Madame Pace. The Step-Daughter Come on, Madame, come on! Maddame Pace Offended. No, no, grazie. I not do anything witha your mother present. The Step-Daughter Nonsense! Introduce this “old signore” who wants to talk nicely to me. Addressing the company imperiously. We’ve got to do this scene one way or another, haven’t we? Come on! To Madame Pace. You can go! Madame Pace Ah yes! I go’way! I go’way! Certainly! Exits furious. The Step-Daughter To The Father. Now you make your entry. No, you needn’t go over here. Come here. Let’s suppose you’ve already come in. Like that, yes! I’m here with bowed head, modest like. Come on! Out with your voice! Say “Good morning, Miss” in that peculiar tone, that special tone.⁠ ⁠… The Manager Excuse me, but are you the Manager, or am I? To the Father, who looks undecided and perplexed. Get on with it, man! Go down there to the back of the stage. You needn’t go off. Then come right forward here. The Father does as he is told, looking troubled and perplexed at first. But as soon as he begins to move, the reality of the action affects him, and he begins to smile and to be more natural. The Actors watch intently. The Manager Sotto voce, quickly to the Prompter in his box. Ready! ready? Get ready to write now. The Father Coming forward and speaking in a different tone. Good afternoon, Miss! The Step-Daughter Head bowed down slightly, with restrained disgust. Good afternoon! The Father Looks under her hat which partly covers her face. Perceiving she is very young, he makes an exclamation, partly of surprise, partly of fear lest he compromise himself in a risky adventure. “Ah⁠ ⁠… but⁠ ⁠… ah⁠ ⁠… I say⁠ ⁠… this is not the first time that you have come here, is it?” The Step-Daughter Modestly. No sir. The Father You’ve been here before, eh? Then seeing her nod agreement. More than once? Waits for her to answer, looks under her hat, smiles, and then says. Well then, there’s no need to be so shy, is there? May I take off your hat? The Step-Daughter Anticipating him and with veiled disgust. No sir⁠ ⁠… I’ll do it myself. Takes it off quickly. The Mother, who watches the progress of the scene with The Son and the other two children who cling to her, is on thorns; and follows with varying expressions of sorrow, indignation, anxiety, and horror the words and actions of the other two. From time to time she hides her face in her hands and sobs. The Mother Oh, my God, my God! The Father Playing his part with a touch of gallantry. Give it to me! I’ll put it down. Takes hat from her hands. But a dear little head like yours ought to have a smarter hat. Come and help me choose one from the stock, won’t you? L’Ingénue Interrupting. I say⁠ ⁠… those are our hats you know. The Manager Furious. Silence! silence! Don’t try and be funny, if you please.⁠ ⁠… We’re playing the scene now I’d have you notice. To The Step-Daughter. Begin again, please! The Step-Daughter Continuing. No thank you, sir. The Father Oh, come now. Don’t talk like that. You must take it. I shall be upset if you don’t. There are some lovely little hats here; and then⁠—Madame will be pleased. She expects it, anyway, you know. The Step-Daughter No, no! I couldn’t wear it! The Father Oh, you’re thinking about what they’d say at home if they saw you come in with a new hat? My dear girl, there’s always a way round these little matters, you know. The Step-Daughter All keyed up. No, it’s not that. I couldn’t wear it because I am⁠ ⁠… as you see⁠ ⁠… you might have noticed.⁠ ⁠… Showing her black dress. The Father … in mourning! Of course: I beg your pardon: I’m frightfully sorry.⁠ ⁠… The Step-Daughter Forcing herself to conquer her indignation and nausea. Stop! Stop! It’s I who must thank you. There’s no need for you to feel mortified or specially sorry. Don’t think any more of what I’ve said. Tries to smile. I must forget that I am dressed so.⁠ ⁠… The Manager Interrupting and turning to the Prompter. Stop a minute!
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