BUILDER. I don't want any, either. Tell Topping I'll have some coffee.
CAMILLE. Topping has gone to the dentist, Monsieur; 'e 'as the
toothache.
BUILDER. Toothache--poor devil! H'm! I'm expecting my brother, but I
don't know that I can see him.
CAMILLE. No, Monsieur?
BUILDER. Ask your mistress to come here.
He looks up, and catching her eye, looks away.
CAMILLE. Yes, Monsieur.
As she turns he looks swiftly at her, sweeping her up and down. She
turns her head and catches his glance, which is swiftly dropped.
Will Monsieur not 'ave anything to eat?
BUILDER. [Shaking his head-abruptly] No. Bring the coffee!
CAMILLE. Is Monsieur not well?
BUILDER. Yes--quite well.
CAMILLE. [Sweetening her eyes] A cutlet soubise? No?
BUILDER. [With a faint response in his eyes, instantly subdued] Nothing!
nothing!
CAMILLE. And Madame nothing too--Tt! Tt! With her hand on the door she
looks back, again catches his eyes in an engagement instantly broken off,
and goes out.
BUILDER. [Stock-still, and staring at the door] That girl's a continual
irritation to me! She's dangerous! What a life! I believe that girl--
The door Left is opened and MRS BUILDER comes in.
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