| MR. CULVER | |
| MRS. CULVER | |
| HILDEGARDE CULVER | } their children |
| JOHN CULVER | } |
| TRANTO | |
| MISS STARKEY | |
| SAMPSON STRAIGHT | |
| PARLOURMAID |
An evening between Christmas and New Year, before dinner.
The next evening, after dinner.
The next day, before lunch.
The scene throughout is a sitting-room in the well-furnished West End abode of the Culvers. There is a door, back. There is also another door (L) leading to Mrs. Culver's boudoir and elsewhere.
Hildegarde is sitting at a desk, writing . John, in a lounging attitude, is reading a newspaper .
Enter Tranto, back .
TRANTO. Good evening.
HILDEGARDE ( turning slightly in her seat and giving him her left hand, the right still holding a pen ). Good evening. Excuse me one moment.
TRANTO. All right about my dining here to-night? (Hildegarde nods .) Larder equal to the strain?
HILDEGARDE. Macaroni.
TRANTO. Splendid.
HILDEGARDE. Beefsteak.
TRANTO. Great heavens! ( imitates sketchily the motions of cutting up a piece of steak. Shaking hands with John, who has risen ). Well, John. How are things? Don't let me disturb you. Have a cigarette.
[pg 10] JOHN ( flattered ). Thanks. ( As they light cigarettes .) You're the first person here that's treated me like a human being.
TRANTO. Oh!
JOHN. Yes. They all treat me as if I was a schoolboy home for the hols.
TRANTO. But you are, aren't you?
JOHN. In a way, of course. But—well, don't you see what I mean?
TRANTO ( sympathetically ). You mean that a schoolboy home for the hols isn't necessarily something escaped out of the Zoo.
JOHN ( warming ). That's it.
TRANTO. In fact, what you mean is you're really an individual very like the rest of us, subject, if I may say so, to the common desires, weaknesses and prejudices of humanity—and not a damned freak.
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