MAXWELL (_thoughtfully_) And the apartment house was to blame? RYAN Believe me, Mr. Johnson, the only part of an apartment house to live in is the basement, where you can have a regular home. I been a janitor for ten years, and I seen these apartment houses do queer things to families. They don’t seem to have no children when they live in apartment houses, that’s one thing. And there ain’t no coal to bring up and the washing goes out, and there ain’t nothing for them to do but just make fools of themselves. And sometimes there’s a good many divorces been caused by these here apartment houses. And there’d be a good many more divorces if a lot of husbands knew what went on when they was downtown at business. Understand me, Mr. Johnson. I don’t mean you and your wife at all. You ain’t that sort of people, but what I do say is for my wife, and for a lot of women with more education and more money than she’s got, the only sort of life is doing housework and taking care of children all day long. So Annie and me will stay down in the basement, much obliged to you, unless we go out of New York to live in a little house in the country sometime. And Annie’ll have just as much work to do there. She’s one of them women that wasn’t meant to be idle. And now I guess I’ll go downstairs. (_He rises and goes toward the door._ MAXWELL _sits silent for a moment and then rises a little unsteadily. He holds out his hand to_ RYAN _for a second and then drops it and starts_.) MAXWELL Ryan, I--er--why, I guess you’re right, after all. I’ll tell my friends what you said. RYAN All right. No hard feelings, I hope. MAXWELL Not at all; that’s all right. Good night, Ryan. RYAN Good night, Mr. Johnson. (_He goes out._) MAXWELL There’s a man that’s master in his own home, at any rate. (_He lights a cigar and walks around the room with his hands in his trousers pockets, coming to a halt in front of the purple statue. He looks at it reflectively._) Satan finds some mischief still--(_A pause_)--for idle hands to do. For idle hands to do. For idle hands to do. For idle hands-- (_The doorbell is rung violently._ MAXWELL _starts and runs out into the hall. He returns with_ HELEN, _who is very much out of breath. As she runs into the room the combs drop from her hair, which falls over her face and shoulders. She throws herself on the chaise-longue._ MAXWELL _sits beside her and tries to push her hair back from her face_.) Nellie! What’s the matter? (HELEN _sobs without answering_.) HELEN It’s those nasty Martins and that nasty policeman and that nasty Lionel Morris. (_The bell rings again._ MAXWELL _goes to the door and admits_ LIONEL.) LIONEL