_Will (eagerly)._ I'll have one character, at least! In the next
scene, when the father comes in! It'll be a jolly lark, Peggy--I'm
going to use Dad!

_Peggy._ Your own father!

_Will._ Yes, why not?

_Peggy._ He might hear of it, Will!

_Will._ He despises the theatre. Half his anger at me was because I
married an actress. And it seems to me, if we can't get any money
out of him, we might at least get a character-study.

_Peggy._ All right, Dad let it be!

_Will._ I'll show you how it is. Here! (_Pushes the manuscripts
towards her; the Play-play begins to appear._) Jack has gone upstairs
to change his clothes, and here comes Dad. He's an old man--rich,
irascible, given to scolding. I remember how he used to snort when
anything didn't please him.

_Dad._ Huh! huh-huh!

_Will._ He's heard the story about Jack. Here's the Mss. Read. (_She
takes the manuscript and begins to read. Full light on Play-play.
Will exit secretly._)

_Dad (to Bob)._ What do you think of this?