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- A hotel sitting room. A table in the centre. On it a telephone. Two chairs at it, opposite one another. Behind it, the door. The fireplace has a mirror in the mantelpiece.
- A spinster Princess, hatted and gloved, is ushered in by the hotel manager, spruce and artifically bland by professional habit, but treating his customer with a condescending affability which sails very close to the east wind of insolence.
THE MANAGER. I am sorry I am unable to accommodate Your Highness on the first floor.
THE PRINCESS. [very shy and nervous.] Oh, please don't mention it. This is quite nice. Very nice. Thank you very much.
THE MANAGER. We could prepare a room in the annexe—
THE PRINCESS. Oh no. This will do very well.
- She takes of her gloves and hat: puts them on the table; and sits down.
THE MANAGER. The rooms are quite as good up here. There is less noise; and there is the lift. If Your Highness desires anything, there is the telephone—
THE PRINCESS. Oh, thank you, I don't want anything. The telephone is so difficult: I am not accustomed to it.
THE MANAGER. Can I take any order? Some tea?
