[Another moth-eaten man appears through the French windows.] VANE. Is that boulder firm? PROPS. [Going to where, in front of the back-cloth, and apparently among its apple trees, lies the counterfeitment of a mossy boulder; he puts his foot on it] If, you don't put too much weight on it, sir. VANE. It won't creak? PROPS. Nao. [He mounts on it, and a dolorous creaking arises.] VANE. Make that right. Let me see that lute. [PROPS produces a property lute. While they scrutinize it, a broad man with broad leathery clean-shaven face and small mouth, occupied by the butt end of a cigar, has come on to the stage from Stage Left, and stands waiting to be noticed.] PROPS. [Attracted by the scent of the cigar] The Boss, Sir. VANE. [Turning to "PROPS"] That'll do, then. ["PROPS" goes out through the French windows.] VANE. [To FRUST] Now, sir, we're all ready for rehearsal of "Orpheus with his Lute." FRUST. [In a cosmopolitan voice] "Orphoos with his loot!" That his loot, Mr Vane? Why didn't he pinch something more precious? Has this high-brow curtain-raiser of yours got any "pep" in it? VANE. It has charm. FRUST. I'd thought of "Pop goes the Weasel" with little Miggs. We kind of want a cock-tail before "Louisa loses," Mr Vane. VANE. Well, sir, you'll see. FRUST. This your lighting? It's a bit on the spiritool side. I've left my glass. Guess I'll sit in the front row. Ha'f a minute. Who plays this Orphoos? VANE. George Fleetway. FRUST. Has he got punch? VANE. It's a very small part. FRUST. Who are the others? VANE. Guy Toone plays the Professor; Vanessa Hellgrove his wife; Maude Hopkins the faun. FRUST. H'm! Names don't draw. VANE. They're not expensive, any of them. Miss Hellgrove's a find, I think. FRUST. Pretty? VANE. Quite. FRUST. Arty? VANE. [Doubtfully] No. [With resolution] Look here, Mr FRUST, it's no use your expecting another "Pop goes the Weasel." FRUST. We-ell, if it's got punch and go, that'll be enough for me. Let's get to it! [He extinguishes his cigar and descends the steps and sits in the centre of the front row of the stalls.] VANE. Mr Foreson? FORESON. [Appearing through curtain, Right] Sir? VANE. Beginners. Take your curtain down. [He descends the steps and seats himself next to FRUST. The curtain goes down.] [A woman's voice is heard singing very beautifully Sullivan's song: "Orpheus with his lute, with his lute made trees and the mountain tops that freeze'." etc.] FRUST. Some voice!