_Charlotte is now audibly descending a crickety flight of stairs, and here she is! She’s thirty, and old for her age, just like I told you, shapeless, slack-cheeked, but still defiant. She would fiercely resent the statement that her attractions have declined ninety per cent since her marriage, and in the same breath she would assume that there was a responsibility and shoulder it on her husband. She talks in a pessimistic whine and, with a sort of dowdy egotism, considers herself generally in the right. Frankly, I don’t like her, though she can’t help being what she is._ CHARLOTTE. I thought you were going to the Republican Convention down at the Auditorium. JERRY. Well, I am. [_But he remembers the b-o-o--._] No, I can’t. CHARLOTTE. Well, then, for heaven’s sakes don’t spend the evening sitting here and nagging me. I’m nervous enough as it is. _They both sit. She produces a basket of sewing, selects a man’s nightshirt and begins, apparently, to rip it to pieces. Meanwhile Jerry, who has picked up a magazine, regards her out of the corner of his eye. During the first rip he starts to speak, and again during the second rip, but each time he restrains himself with a perceptible effort._ JERRY. What are you tearing that up for? CHARLOTTE [_sarcastically_]. Just for fun. JERRY. Why don’t you tear up one of your own? CHARLOTTE [_exasperated_]. Oh, I know what I’m doing. For heaven’s sakes, don’t _n-a-a-ag_ me! JERRY [_feebly_]. Well, I just asked you. [_A long pause._] Well, I got analyzed to-day. CHARLOTTE. What? JERRY. I got analyzed. CHARLOTTE. What’s that? JERRY. I got analyzed by an expert analyzer. Everybody down at the Railroad Company got analyzed. [_Rather importantly._] They got a chart about me that long. [_He expresses two feet with his hands._] Say-- [_He rises suddenly and goes up close to her._] What color my eyes? CHARLOTTE. Don’t ask me. Sort of brown, I guess. JERRY. Brown? That’s what I told ’em. But they got me down for blue. CHARLOTTE. What was it all about? Did they pay you anything for it? JERRY. Pay me anything? Of course not. It was for my benefit. It’ll do me a lot of good. I was _analyzed_, can’t you understand? They found out a lot of stuff about me. CHARLOTTE [_dropping her work in horror_]. Do you think you’ll lose your job? JERRY [_in disgust_]. A lot you know about business methods. Don’t you ever read “Efficiency” or the “Systematic Weekly”? It’s a sort of examination. CHARLOTTE. Oh, I know. When they feel all the bumps on your head. JERRY. No, not like that at all. They ask you questions, see? CHARLOTTE. Well, you needn’t be so cross about it. _He hasn’t been cross._ I hope you had the spunk to tell them you thought you deserved a better position than you’ve got.