MRS. LEVI:

Taken aback.

Oh, no, no . . . NO! I am merely arranging it. I am helping him find a suitable bride.

AMBROSE:

For Mr. Vandergelder there are no suitable brides.

MRS. LEVI:

I think we can safely say that Mr. Vandergelder will be married to someone by the end of next week.

AMBROSE:

What are you suggesting, Mrs. Levi?

MRS. LEVI:

I am taking Ermengarde to New York on the next train. I shall not take her to Miss Van Huysen’s, as is planned; I shall take her to my house. I wish you to call for her at my house at five thirty. Here is my card.

AMBROSE:

“Mrs. Dolly Gallagher Levi. Varicose veins reduced.”

MRS. LEVI:

Trying to take back card.

I beg your pardon . . .

AMBROSE:

Holding card.

I beg your pardon. “Consultations free.”

MRS. LEVI:

I meant to give you my other card. Here.

AMBROSE:

“Mrs. Dolly Gallagher Levi. Aurora Hosiery. Instruction in the guitar and mandolin.” You do all these things, Mrs. Levi?

MRS. LEVI:

Two and two make four, Mr. Kemper—always did. So you will come to my house at five thirty. At about six I shall take you both with me to the Harmonia Gardens Restaurant on the Battery; Mr. Vandergelder will be there and everything will be arranged.

AMBROSE:

How?

MRS. LEVI:

Oh, I don’t know. One thing will lead to another.

AMBROSE:

How do I know that I can trust you, Mrs. Levi? You could easily make our situation worse.

MRS. LEVI:

Mr. Kemper, your situation could not possibly be worse.

AMBROSE:

I wish I knew what you get out of this, Mrs. Levi.

MRS. LEVI:

That is a very proper question. I get two things: profit and pleasure.

AMBROSE:

How?

MRS. LEVI:

Mr. Kemper, I am a woman who arranges things. At present I am arranging Mr. Vandergelder’s domestic affairs. Out of it I get—shall we call it: little pickings? I need little pickings, Mr. Kemper, and especially just now, when I haven’t got my train fare back to New York. You see: I am frank with you.

AMBROSE:

That’s your profit, Mrs. Levi; but where do you get your pleasure?

MRS. LEVI:

My pleasure? Mr. Kemper, when you artists paint a hillside or a river you change everything a little, you make thousands of little changes, don’t you? Nature is never completely satisfactory and must be corrected. Well, I’m like you artists. Life as it is is never quite interesting enough for me—I’m bored, Mr. Kemper, with life as it is—and so I do things. I put my hand in here, and I put my hand in there, and I watch and I listen—and often I’m very much amused.

AMBROSE:

Rises.

Not in my affairs, Mrs. Levi.

MRS. LEVI:

Wait, I haven’t finished. There’s another thing. I’m very interested in this household here—in Mr. Vandergelder and all that idle, frozen money of his. I don’t like the thought of it lying in great piles, useless, motionless, in the bank, Mr. Kemper. Money should circulate like rain water. It should be flowing down among the people, through dressmakers and restaurants and cabmen, setting up a little business here, and furnishing a good time there. Do you see what I mean?