ST. ELMO PEATTIE _Sheriff_ A DETECTIVE LIEUTENANT TWO DETECTIVES A CHAUFFEUR THE RED LIGHT OF MARS THE FIRST ACT _The study and laboratory of Doctor Addington Agnus, Rothlyn, Long Island._ _Entrances: Folding-doors to laboratory; door to garden; spiral stairway; door to hallway._ _A long, low white room: white-panelled, white book-shelves, furniture, etc.; upholstered in light yellow and light blue chintz._ _Garden seen through two windows on either side of upper door. Folding-doors to laboratory closed._ _A sunny day in early winter: late morning. The sun is almost blinding on the white room and the highly polished brasses._ _A bright wood-fire burns._ _As the curtain rises: a knocking on the garden door, which continues. The knob rattles. The door gives way, almost precipitating Thomas Vanillity on his face._ _Vanillity is a college professor, lean, spare, ascetic-looking; wears a dark gray English walking suit; tailed coat; derby hat. Has typical sad Englishman’s moustache, a “drooper”; closely shaven lantern jaws. Carries neatly folded umbrella._ VANILLITY (_evidently astounded at unlocked door_) Well: upon my word—upon my word! (_Picks up hat, umbrella, etc., which have fallen, and straightens himself_) I wonder if he’s in? (_A slight explosion from laboratory; he drops articles again_) Yes, he’s in! (_Picks up articles a second time; straightens tie, etc., in glass; twirls moustache; then goes to fire; stretches out hands_) A-a-ah! [_A second knocking on garden door._ VANILLITY (_going to folding-doors and calling into laboratory_) Oh, Addington, Addington, my boy! (_A second explosion from laboratory. Vanillity goes to door, admitting Judge Hippolyte Critty: grossly but respectably fat, with an unctuous smile and a walrus-tusk moustache_) JUDGE CRITTY (_smiling genially_) Ah! Professor! Professor! Come to claim all the credit of your pupil’s great discovery? (_Waves hand toward laboratory_) VANILLITY (_with painful humility_) I did nothing, Judge, nothing. A man like Dr. Agnus would succeed without my teaching or anyone’s. (_Shows by his attitude some servility to the Judge_) JUDGE CRITTY (_warming hands at fire_) Well, he _thinks_ you’re responsible. “If it wasn’t for Professor Vanillity,” he keeps saying— VANILLITY I never knew so painfully modest a boy— JUDGE CRITTY (_they are both at fire_) Boy—you’ve hit it—boy! The great scientist (_bows to laboratory doors_) retains all his boyish shyness and lack of confidence. He even (_preening himself_) gives _me_ credit for part of his success. Because once I said the time was coming when science would keep us alive forever. _He_ says _that_ put him on the track. VANILLITY (_with melancholy satisfaction, looking toward laboratory_) Immortality! No more building up just for Time to tear down! JUDGE CRITTY (_in a smoking-room manner, ribald_)