_The dining-room in an upper middle-class house near the Park. It
is furnished in the conventional modern style, soberly and
without imagination. The room is on the ground floor, facing the
street, the door is to the right, and leads into the hall. To the
left of this door is a sideboard, glittering with silver. Three
tall windows, at the back heavily curtained; between them hang
two or three family portraits. The table, on which there is the
usual debris of a meal that is over--coffee-cups,
liqueur-glasses, etc.--has been laid for four persons, and their
four chairs are still around it. The fireplace, with its rather
crude and ambitious mantelpiece, is in the centre of the left
wall; and uncomfortable-looking heavy armchairs are on each side
of it. On the mantelpiece are a marble clock and a few bits of
china. In the angle formed at the left side is a small Queen Anne
writing-table, open. To the right of the room is a large sofa.
The floor is heavily carpeted, and there are many rugs scattered
about._
_When the curtain rises, the room is in darkness._ WILLIAM, _the
footman, enters hurriedly and switches on the electric light. He
rushes to the table, looks eagerly around, shifting cups and
glasses, napkins, etc., then goes on his hands and knees and
searches on the carpet. After a moment,_ SMITHERS, _the
lady's-maid, follows him._
SMITHERS. [_Eagerly._] Can't you find it?
WILLIAM. [_Sulkily._] No. Not yet. Give me time.
SMITHERS. [_Feeling along the table-cloth._] Under one of those rugs,
perhaps.
WILLIAM. Well, I'm looking. [_Motor-horn sounds sharply, off._] All right,
all right!
SMITHERS. [_With a jerk of the head._] Missis is telling him to do it.
WILLIAM. [_On all fours, crawling about._] Very like her voice, too, when
she's angry. Drat the thing! Where can it be?
[_He peers into the coal-scuttle._
SMITHERS. No good looking in there, stupid.