JORDAN. [_Hesitating._] But--
WARDEN. [_Quickly and firmly._] Do as I tell you. I am responsible for
whatever happens.
[JORDAN _goes out at back. The men and women are laughing and talking
about the sideboard._
BLANCHE. Come now, everybody! Let's have the presents. Dick, you know
you are to be Santa Claus.
[STERLING _looks nervously at his watch._
STERLING. Just a minute, dear! Ned! [_Takes_ WARDEN _to one side. The
women move about the tree, hunting for their own names on the stockings
on the table at the foot of the tree._] Ned, I've been suddenly called
out of town on business--must catch the eleven-twenty train. I don't
want to break up the party, so you empty the tree, and when the time
comes for me to go, I'll slip out.
WARDEN. And when your guests go?
STERLING. Oh, then you can explain for me.
[JORDAN _enters at back._
JORDAN. [_To_ BLANCHE.] Beg pardon, madam, but Master Richard is very
ill.
BLANCHE. [_Alarmed._] Richard!
JORDAN. Yes, ma'am, and Droves is very frightened, ma'am.
RUTH. Richard ill?
[_All give exclamations of surprise and regret and sympathy._
BLANCHE. My little boy ill? Excuse me, I must go to him.
[_She hurries out at back._ RUTH _speaks to the musicians, who stop
playing.
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