_Jessie_. I know Jack loves you! _Gladys_. Indeed, Jessie? Too bad that Jack doesn't know it--(_sound of gramophone in Real-play Left 1, playing a popular song. The Play-play fades rapidly_.) _Will_. Oh, God! _Peggy_. Botheration! _Will_. The fiends! (_leaps up and begins to pace the floor_.) Isn't that enough to drive a man to distraction? To be trying to work, trying to create something-- _Peggy_. Wait, dear. (_Goes and closes door._) Now forget about it. _Will._ Yes, it's easy to say forget! But pretty soon the devils in the rear will begin with their coon-songs-- _Peggy._ Well then, we'll close the window, too. _Will._ Yes, on a hot night! _Peggy._ What do you think of my love-interest? _Will._ I think it's rotten. _Peggy._ Will! _Will._ Absolutely rotten! The idea of having her turn Jack down--at the very beginning of the play! _Peggy._ But that's exactly what happened! Didn't Gladys turn _you_ down? And besides, she can take him up again, if you like. _Will._ How's she going to see him when he goes out on the street? _Peggy._ Can't she run into him somewhere by accident? _Will._ By accident--in a city of six million people! _Peggy._ Well then, why not have her go where he goes? Let Bob follow Jack, or let them hire a detective. _Will._ Melodrama! Ten-twenty-thirty! I don't like Gladys as a character any more than I did as a person. She's shallow and cheap--a regular worldling! I won't have any such creature in my play! _Peggy._ There's no use talking that way, Will, you simply can't write a money-making play without love-interest. And also you've got to have comedy characters--real characters-- _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? _Bob._ What? _Dad._ My precious son in trouble again! Never any end to it! Recklessness--dissipation--insolence! I've reached the end of my patience. Absolutely the end! _Bob._ What's happened? _Dad (waves letter in his hand)._ Here's a letter from the dean. He's got himself suspended from college. _Jessie (horrified)._ Oh, Dad! _Bob._ What's he done?