CLAIRE:  I’m going to let him in.  Though I like his looks out there. (she takes the key from her pocket)

HARRY:  Thank heaven the door’s coming open.  Somebody can go for salt, and we can have our eggs.

CLAIRE:  And open the door again—­to let the salt in?  No.  If you insist on salt, tell Tom now to go back and get it.  It’s a stormy morning and there’ll be just one opening of the door.

HARRY:  How can we tell him what we can’t make him hear?  And why does he think we’re holding this conversation instead of letting him in?

CLAIRE:  It would be interesting to know.  I wonder if he’ll tell us?

HARRY:  Claire!  Is this any time to wonder anything?

CLAIRE:  Give up the idea of salt for your egg and I’ll let him in. (holds up the key to TOM_ to indicate that for her part she is quite ready to let him in_)

HARRY:  I want my egg!

CLAIRE:  Then ask him to bring the salt.  It’s quite simple.

(HARRY goes through another pantomime with the egg-cup and the missing shaker. CLAIRE, still standing half-way down cellar, sneezes. HARRY, growing all the while less amiable, explains with thermometer and flower-pot that there can only be one opening of the door. TOM looks interested, but unenlightened.  But suddenly he smiles, nods, vanishes.)

HARRY:  Well, thank heaven (exhausted) that’s over.

CLAIRE:  (sitting on the top step) It was all so queer.  He locked out on his side of the door.  You locked in on yours.  Looking right at each other and—­

HARRY:  (in mockery) And me trying to tell him to kindly fetch the salt!

CLAIRE:  Yes.

HARRY:  (to DICK) Well, I didn’t do so bad a job, did I?  Quite an idea, explaining our situation with the thermometer and the flower-pot.  That was really an apology for keeping him out there.  Heaven knows—­some explanation was in order, (he is watching, and sees TOM coming) Now there he is, Claire.  And probably pretty well fed up with the weather.

(CLAIRE goes to the door, stops before it.  She and TOM look at each other through the glass.  Then she lets him in.)

TOM:  And now I am in.  For a time it seemed I was not to be in.  But after I got the idea that you were keeping me out there to see if I could get the idea—­it would be too humiliating for a wall of glass to keep one from understanding. (taking it from his pocket) So there’s the other thermometer.  Where do you want it? (CLAIRE takes it)

CLAIRE:  And where’s the pepper?

TOM:  (putting it on the table) And here’s the pepper.

HARRY:  Pepper?

TOM:  When Claire sneezed I knew—­

CLAIRE:  Yes, I knew if I sneezed you would bring the pepper.

TOM:  Funny how one always remembers the salt, but the pepper gets overlooked in preparations.  And what is an egg without pepper?