“Isn’t⁠—isn’t that right?”

As if with the words she had touched a spring, Monsieur Gerardy bounded to his feet.

“Grand God! Is that left-centre where you have made the entrance? In fine, I ask you a little⁠— is that left-centre? You have come in by the rustic bench and practicable table set for breakfast. A fine sight on the night of the performance that. Marion climbs over the rustic breakfast and practicable⁠—over the rustic bench and practicable table, ha, ha, to make the entrance.” Still holding the playbook, he clapped hands with elaborate sarcasm. “Ah, yes, good business that. That will bring down the house.”

Meanwhile the Gretry girl turned again from left-centre.

“ ‘Ah, the old home again. See⁠—’ ”