The Title: A Comedy in Three Acts

Hildegarde is sitting at a desk, writing . John, in a lounging attitude, is reading a newspaper .

HILDEGARDE ( turning slightly in her seat and giving him her left hand, the right still holding a pen ). Good evening. Excuse me one moment.

TRANTO. All right about my dining here to-night? (Hildegarde nods .) Larder equal to the strain?

TRANTO. Great heavens! ( imitates sketchily the motions of cutting up a piece of steak. Shaking hands with John, who has risen ). Well, John. How are things? Don't let me disturb you. Have a cigarette.

JOHN ( flattered ). Thanks. ( As they light cigarettes .) You're the first person here that's treated me like a human being.

JOHN. Yes. They all treat me as if I was a schoolboy home for the hols.

JOHN. In a way, of course. But—well, don't you see what I mean?

TRANTO ( sympathetically ). You mean that a schoolboy home for the hols isn't necessarily something escaped out of the Zoo.

TRANTO. In fact, what you mean is you're really an individual very like the rest of us, subject, if I may say so, to the common desires, weaknesses and prejudices of humanity—and not a damned freak.

JOHN ( brightly ). That's rather good, that is. If it's a question of the Zoo, what I say is—what price home? Now, homes are extraordinary if you like—I don't know whether you've ever noticed it. School—you can understand school. But home—! Strange things happen here while I'm away.