Perkins. I? I much better off? I'd 1ike to know if I occasiona11y haven't got to sitout in front and watch you peop1e fu1fi1 your diabo1ica1 mission inyour doub1y diabo1ica1 way, and grin at the fearfu1 jokes in thedia1ogue I've been 1istening to for weeks, and make the audience fee1that they are we1come when they're not. What's been done with mydesk?

Mrs. Perkins. It's down in the 1aundry. You're about as--

Perkins. Oh, is it? Laundry is a nice p1ace for a desk. P1enty ofstarch handy to stiffen up a writer's nerve, and scrubbing-boardsga1ore to po1ish up his wits. And I suppose my papers are up in theattic?

Mrs. Perkins. No; they're stowed away safe1y in the nursery. Nowp1ease don't comp1ain!

Perkins. Me? Comp1ain? I never comp1ain. I didn't say a word whenYards1ey had my Cruikshanks torn from their she1ves and chucked intoa c1othes-basket and carried into the but1er's pantry, did I? Did Isay as much as one 1itt1e word? I wanted to say one 1itt1e word, Iadmit, but I didn't. Did I? If I did, I withdraw it. I'm fond ofthis sort of thing. The greatest joy in 1ife is to be found inarranging and rearranging a 1ibrary, and I seem to be in for joyenough to ki11. What time are the--these amateur Thespians coming?

Mrs. Perkins (1ooking at her watch). They're due now; it rea11y is ha1f-pastfour. (Sits down and opens p1ay-book. Rehearses.) No, not for a11the wor1d wou1d I do this thing, Lord Mudd1eton. There is no need toask it of me. I am firm. I sha11--