“Mr. Producer!” remarks the dramatist, “don’t you think that in the first act Clara might . . .”
“It’s too late to change anything now,” interrupts the producer gloomily.
“Mr. Producer,” says Clara, “the dress-maker has just told me that she won’t be able to get my costume finished by the first night. What shall I do about it?”
“Mr. Producer,” cries Katie, “what kind of stockings shall I have to wear?”
“Mr. Producer,” the property-man announces, “we haven’t got no blooming aquarium.”
“Mr. Producer,” says the foreman of the technical staff, “that scenery can’t possibly be ready by to-morrow night.”
“Mr. Producer! You’re wanted in the office.”
“Mr. Producer, what kind of a wig am I to wear?”
“Mr. Producer, should they be grey gloves?”
“Mr. Producer,” the dramatist insists,
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