It’s the janitor. Yes, Ryan, the fellow down in the basement with nine children that you and Mrs. What’s-her-name wanted to segregate. He told me all about you to-night. You’re nothing but a by-product! The apartment house is the real devil in this pretty little play--the apartment house is responsible for Feminism and Socialism and Anarchism and Eugenics and pups like you. You’re just a sort of bad substitute for the movies--that’s all you are. The apartment house breeds the whole bunch of you--the apartment house and its artificial, lazy, good-for-nothing life. (LIONEL _starts toward the door hurriedly, but stops as if shot when the telephone bell rings close to his ear. He comes back into the room and_ MAXWELL _goes to the telephone_.) MAXWELL Hello!... What’s that?... Yes, this is Mr. Johnson.... No, I don’t think so. Hold the wire and I’ll see. (_With his hand over the transmitter he looks into the room._) Nellie! HELEN (_coming into the living room with her hair in a long braid, wearing a blue tea gown_) Yes, Max? MAXWELL What is your name? HELEN Why, Helen, of course, stupid. MAXWELL Helen what? HELEN Helen Johnson. MAXWELL Not Miss Helen White? HELEN No! No! No! MAXWELL (_smiling_) Well, that’s all right, then. There’s a cop down-stairs with a warrant for the arrest of a Miss Helen White and a Mr. Lionel Morris, charged with making incendiary speeches in Union Square. They think that Morris’s taxicab stopped at this building, and the policeman is going through all the apartments. He’ll be here in a minute. (_In the receiver._) All right, Sam, it’s all right. Thanks for tipping me off. (MAXWELL _reënters the room and sits on the pianola bench_. HELEN _reclines, with some dignity, on the chaise-longue_. LIONEL _crouches behind the purple statue_.) MAXWELL (_meditatively_) Satan finds some mischief still-- HELEN What are you saying, Max? MAXWELL Oh, I was just thinking of the janitor. I had quite a talk with him after you left. (_The doorbell rings, and_ MAXWELL _admits a large policeman_.) POLICEMAN Excuse me, sir; it’s just a matter of form. I’m looking for a couple of them Anarchist-Suffrage-I. W. W. bugs. It’s just a matter of form. The man’s name is Lionel Morris and the woman’s name is Helen White. Are you Lionel Morris? MAXWELL No; my name is Maxwell Johnson. The janitor knows me, and so do a lot of people in the building. POLICEMAN Thank you, sir. It’s just a matter of form. Now, madam--it’s just a matter of form--are you Helen White?