JACK. I suppose I’ll have to.
(_He goes and unlocks door and returns to R. front--WALTER comes
out._)
WALTER. What is the meaning of all this?
JACK. That’s exactly what I want to know.
WALTER. Locking a fellow in a bedroom.
JACK (_aside_). Calls itself a fellow and knows it’s a bedroom!
WALTER. I feel as stupid (_he is still half-stunned_) as an owl. Where
is Stella?
JACK. Knows about Stella!
WALTER. What are you muttering?
JACK. Knows I’m muttering!
WALTER. Well?
JACK. Well.
WALTER. Why the devil don’t you speak?
JACK. Knows there’s a devil! I really don’t quite know what to do with
you till your creator returns.
WALTER. What?--How?
JACK. What or how--same thing. This is a pretty pickle, Mr. Cyril
Davidson.
WALTER. Mr. _What_?
JACK. Of course you don’ know your name yet; that is what you were
christened, Cyril Davidson, so I call you Cyril Davidson.
WALTER. Oh, you do, do you? that’s very clever of you. My mind’s a
blank, I can’t remember what happened before I woke up on that chair.
JACK. No one remembers what happened before they were born.
WALTER (_bangs a book down on table_). Oh, damned nonsense!
JACK. I wonder what you think of the world now you’ve come into it;
what are your general impressions of mankind?
WALTER. Was this why you locked me in the bedroom?
JACK. Exactly.
WALTER. And are you going to keep this up?
JACK. Decidedly.
WALTER. I can’t see much sense in it myself; however, if it pleases
you--I’m going to have some lunch. (_Goes up to table in recess._)
JACK (_calls up_). Mr. Davidson! (_No answer._) I’ve made it angry.
(_Calls._) Mr. Davidson--I say, Davidson--Mr. Cyril Davidson--sir,--oh,
it’s in a pet and declines to answer me.
(_STELLA enters D. in F._)