_Impelled by the gregarious instinct of mankind, he again repairs to the door that leads up-stairs, and opens it._ JERRY [_calling_]. Say, Char-_lit_! The convention must be over. I wonder who was nominated. CHARLOTTE. I asked you to shut that door. _But the impulse to express himself, to fuse his new elation into the common good, is irresistible. He goes to the telephone and picks up the receiver._ JERRY. Hello.... Hello, hello. Say! I wonder’f you could tell me who was nominated for President.... All right, give me Information.... Information, I wonder if you could tell me who was nominated for President.... Why not?... Well, that’s information, isn’t it?... It doesn’t matter what _kind_ of information it is. It’s information, isn’t it? Isn’t it? It’s information, isn’t it?... Say, what’s your hurry? [_He bobs the receiver up and down._] Hello, give me Long Distance again.... Hello, is this Information?... This is _mis_information, eh? Ha-ha! Did you hear that? _Mis_information.... I asked for Information.... Well, you’ll do, Long Distance.... Long Distance--how far away are you? A long distance! Ha-ha!... Hello.... Hello! _She has evidently rung off. Jerry does likewise._ JERRY [_sarcastically_]. Wonderful telephone service! [_He goes quickly back to the ’phone and picks up the receiver._] Rottenest telephone service I ever saw! [_He slams up and returns to his drink._] _There is a call outside, “Yoo-hoo!” and immediately afterward Doris opens the front door and comes in, followed by Joseph Fish, a red-headed, insipid young man of about twenty-four. Fish is dressed in a ready-made suit with a high belt at the back, and his pockets slant at a rakish angle. He is the product of a small-town high-school and a one-year business course at a state university._ _Doris has him firmly by the arm. She leads him up to Jerry, who sets down his glass and blinks at them._ DORIS. Gosh! This room smells like a brewery. [_She notices the jars and the other débris of Jerry’s domestic orgy._] What on earth have you been doing? Brewing whiskey? JERRY [_attempting a dignified nonchalance_]. Making cocktails. DORIS [_with a long whistle_]. What does Charlotte say? JERRY [_with dignity_]. Charlit is up-stairs. DORIS. Well, I want you to meet my fiancé, Mr. Fish. Mr. Fish, this is my brother-in-law, Mr. Frost. JERRY. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Fish. FISH. How de do. [_He laughs politely._] JERRY [_horribly_]. Is this the undertaker? DORIS [_tartly_]. You must be tight. JERRY [_to Fish_]. Have a little drink? DORIS. He doesn’t use it. FISH. Thanks. I don’t use it. [_Again he laughs politely._] JERRY [_with a very roguish expression_]. Do you know Ida? FISH. Ida who? JERRY. Idaho. [_He laughs uproariously at his own wit._] That’s a joke I heard to-day. I thought I’d tell it to you because you’re from Idaho. FISH [_resentfully_]. Gosh, that’s a rotten joke.