MRS. SCHUYLER:  Not till after Rose’s wedding to-morrow. (ROSE utters exclamation of rage, slaps the SHEIK’S face and exits.) I was just that emotional until I’d been married a few times—­Come, Sheik—­my husband won’t return from Tabris till this evening—­join me in a cocktail. (She illustrates drink in pantomime.)

ABU:  (Understanding pantomime.) Yes!  Yes! (LETTY and BETTY go up to table and chair C.)

MRS. SCHUYLER:  Mousta, two cocktails on my back porch.  Come, Sheik—­Sheik! (Business with girls.) This way to the dog house.  (Takes hold of chain on his ear trumpet and passes him in.  Girls have gone off.) Oh—­and, Mousta—­don’t put any cherries in—­they take up too much room in the glass. (She exits one way—­Waiter, another.)

(MUSIC.  Entrance of men.)

PAUL:  (Entering with DUDLEY.) Well, there are some beautiful girls in our new Persian home—­has Phil brought our things from the boat?  Phil!  Phil! (Phil enters with all the luggage.)

PHIL:  (Meekly.) Here I am, sir.—­

PAUL:  (As if brushing mosquitoes away.) Oh gee! these Persian mosquitoes! (Finally kills one on his own face.)

PHIL:  (Hungrily.) When are we going to have lunch, sir?

PAUL:  Well, there are several little things I want you to do first.  (Whacking him on one side of face.) Another mosquito.

PHIL:  (Gratefully.) Oh, thank you, sir.

DUDLEY:  Paul, you look as if you were mashed on that Madison girl—­(Sees mosquito on PHIL’s face.) Another mosquito. (Whacks him on other side of face.)

PHIL:  Oh, thank you, sir—­I have never seen such extreme kindness.  (Both whack him this time—­one on each side of face.)

PAUL:  Ho!  Ho!  Two of them this time.

PHIL:  Probably twins.

DUDLEY:  I’ll go in and see when the retiring consul will move out.

PAUL:  All right, and I’ll get a bite of luncheon awhile. (DUDLEY exits.)

PHIL:  (Hungrily.) Oh—­are you going to have your luncheon alone?  (PAUL sees mosquito on PHIL—­is about to kill it—­PHIL falls back.) Ah—­let it live—­let it live.

PAUL:  Now—­you run in the house and take our things out of the grips.

PHIL:  Is there any other little thing I can do for you?

PAUL:  Not till after I’ve had my lunch.

PHIL:  Thank you, sir! (PHIL looks a starved look at him—­exits into house—­stumbling over bundles.) (ROSE is heard singing off-stage chorus of “My Little Persian Rose”—­enters humming.)

PAUL:  (As he hears her singing.) It’s Miss Madison—­I know her sweet voice!

ROSE:  (As she enters and sees PAUL, she stops singing, embarrassed.) Oh, I didn’t know you were here. (The music continues faintly in orchestra.)

PAUL:  I’m not—­I’m in heaven when I hear you sing.

ROSE:  Oh, I hope you don’t mean my singing kills you.