Peggy. Oh, Will.  I hope they like it!  I could get them by the throats and choke them until they promise to like it!  I could fall down upon my knees and beg them to like it! (To audience, with intensity.) Don’t you like it?  Don’t you like it?  Tell us that you like it!  Tell us!

CURTAIN.

ACT IV.

(SCENE—­The attic, the following afternoon.  Scene of the Play-play is the drawing room, as in Act I.

At rise:  The Real-play, showing Will busy working on his Mss., Left.  Peggy Right, putting Bill to sleep.

Peggy. Now, Mr. Bill, you’re going to have a nice nap.

Bill. I feel better.

Peggy. I’m so glad to hear it.  And Will’s most through with his play, and then he’ll take you to the park.

Bill. Say, Peggy!

Peggy. Now, go to sleep.

Bill. But say!

Peggy. Well?

Bill. I think I’m hungry.

Peggy. There’s nothing in the house, dear.

Bill. No bread, Peggy?

Peggy. No, but we’ll get some when you wake up. (Goes Left and sits by Will.  Silence, while he works over papers.  He is pale and haggard; she watches him anxiously.)

Will. (Leans on hands.) Oh, dear.

Peggy. Tired, Will?

Will. I’m getting a beastly headache.

Peggy. Will, you know you oughtn’t to work when your stomach has quit like this.

Will. Hang my stomach!

Peggy. But, dear—­

Will. Why do authors have to have stomachs?  They’re never of any use.

Peggy. Listen, Will.  You can’t do good work when you’re so tired.

Will. I can do good work!  You’ll see it’s good.  I’ve nearly finished the fourth act now.  Come, read it—­and forget about my stomach. (She moves over to him.  The Play-play begins to appear.) The scene is Dad’s drawing-room again.  Jessie is there; she’s worrying about Jack, and Bob is trying to comfort her. (Full light on Play-play.)

Bob. He’s all right, Jessie.  Anybody’d think he’d gone to war!

Jessie. He was never away for so long before.

Bob. Don’t I seem a fairly healthy specimen, Jessie?

Jessie. I suppose so, Bob.

Bob. Well, I’ve done what he’s doing.  I’ve done it for a year.  And I survived.

Jessie. But you knew how, Bob.

Bob. I didn’t when I started.

Jessie. It snowed last night; I lay awake till daybreak worrying about him.

Bob. My dear girl, men have got snow on their clothes before this.

Jessie. He’s been gone a month!

Bob. Listen, Jessie!  You know there’s misery and suffering in the world, don’t you?