The Studio, to which are attached living rooms, might be rented at eighty pounds a year--some painting and gear indeed, but an air of life rather than of work. Things strewn about. Bare walls, a sloping skylight, no windows; no fireplace visible; a bedroom door, stage Right; a kitchen door, stage Left. A door, Centre back, into the street. The door knocker is going. From the kitchen door, Left, comes the very young person, ANNIE, in blotting-paper blue linen, with a white Dutch cap. She is pretty, her cheeks rosy, and her forehead puckered. She opens the street door. Standing outside is TOPPING. He steps in a pace or two. TOPPING. Miss Builder live here? ANNIE. Oh! no, sir; Mrs Herringhame. TOPPING. Mrs Herringhame? Oh! young lady with dark hair and large expressive eyes? ANNIE. Oh! yes, sir. TOPPING. With an "A. B." on her linen? [Moves to table]. ANNIE. Yes, sir. TOPPING. And "Athene Builder" on her drawings? ANNIE. [Looking at one] Yes, sir. TOPPING. Let's see. [He examines the drawing] Mrs Herringhame, you said? ANNIE. Oh! yes, Sir. TOPPING. Wot oh! ANNIE. Did you want anything, sir? TOPPING. Drop the "sir," my dear; I'm the Builders' man. Mr Herringhame in? ANNIE. Oh! no, Sir. TOPPING. Take a message. I can't wait. From Miss Maud Builder. "Look out! Father is coming." Now, whichever of 'em comes in first--that's the message, and don't you forget it. ANNIE. Oh! no, Sir. TOPPING. So they're married? ANNIE. Oh! I don't know, sir. TOPPING. I see. Well, it ain't known to Builder, J.P., either. That's why there's a message. See? ANNIE. Oh! yes, Sir. TOPPING. Keep your head. I must hop it. From Miss Maud Builder. "Look out! Father is coming." He nods, turns and goes, pulling the door to behind him. ANNIE stands "baff" for a moment. ANNIE. Ah! She goes across to the bedroom on the Right, and soon returns with a suit of pyjamas, a toothbrush, a pair of slippers and a case of razors, which she puts on the table, and disappears into the kitchen. She reappears with a bread pan, which she deposits in the centre of the room; then crosses again to the bedroom, and once more reappears with a clothes brush, two hair brushes, and a Norfolk jacket. As she stuffs all these into the bread pan and bears it back into the kitchen, there is the sound of a car driving up and stopping. ANNIE reappears at the kitchen door just as the knocker sounds. ANNIE. Vexin' and provokin'! [Knocker again. She opens the door] Oh! MR and MRS BUILDER enter. BUILDER. Mr and Mrs Builder. My daughter in? ANNIE. [Confounded] Oh! Sir, no, sir. BUILDER. My good girl, not "Oh! Sir, no, sir." Simply: No, Sir. See? ANNIE. Oh! Sir, yes, Sir. BUILDER. Where is she? ANNIE. Oh! Sir, I don't know, Sir. BUILDER. [Fixing her as though he suspected her of banter] Will she be back soon?