sket and puts them together
and stares at it._] No.--No. I'll never wear one. Never! [_He
crumples drawing and throws it back into basket_, LAURA _comes in
from the kitchen._ TED, _looking for escape, goes into bedroom._]

LAURA. Tippy hasn't telephoned. That means he hasn't found Ken.

MARTIN. Maybe he wants to march the grand monarch in on us.

LAURA. Oh, I hope so.--He ought to be back.... Martin, do you think
Ken will ever forgive me?

MARTIN. Well, you know what Solomon said about the way of a man
with a maid.

LAURA. Don't wise-crack.

MARTIN. I'm only hiding my ignorance behind Solomon's.

LAURA. Do you think Ken _should_ forgive me?

MARTIN. I think he ought to spank you till you'd have to eat off
the mantel for a week, and then take you back to his bed and board
and forget it.

LAURA. If he only would.

TIPPY. [_Enters, looking gloomy._] He hasn't been at the apartment,
Laura.--He hasn't been there and he hasn't 'phoned there.

MARTIN. So that's that.

TIPPY. There were some messages for him. The girl at the
switchboard said a man's voice asked for Ken and then asked for
you. Called a couple of times. Left no name.

LAURA. Maybe I ought to go home?

TIPPY. Would you be any more miserable alone?

LAURA. I couldn't be.

TIPPY. You stay here a while. I gave the girl this address and
number and told her to give it to anyone who called. I also made
her promise that if Ken came in she'd call you here at once.

LAURA. She'll die of curiosity.

TIPPY. Telephone operators develop immunity.

LAURA. You're a dear. Thanks.--But--what shall we do?

TIPPY. There is nothing more we can do until you're ready to notify
the Missing Persons Bureau.

LAURA. Do you think we ought to?

TIPPY. No.--I hate to seem callous to your distress, dear, but
involving the police department at this moment would be a little
premature.

LAURA. But I'm so worried. He might do anything, Tippy.

TIPPY. The chances are he'll do nothing but take a walk.

LAURA. If I only knew ...

TIPPY. And what could you tell the police? Man quarrelled with
wife, left house, has been gone four hours....

LAURA. It seems dreadful, dreadful--just to sit here and not know
anything.

MARTIN. I think I have a hunch.

LAURA. Oh, Martin! Why didn't you say so before?

MARTIN. I only just got the hunch.

LAURA. What? Where?

MARTIN. Now wait a minute. It's only a hunch, and my hunches aren't
so hot. I don't believe in them, you s