TOPPING'S VOICE. Scat! you young devils!
The sound of scuffling feet and a long-drawnout and distant
"Miaou!"
BUILDER stirs, shuts the window, draws the curtains, goes to the
armchair before the fireplace and sits down in it.
TOPPING enters with a little tray on which is a steaming jug of
fluid, some biscuits and a glass. He comes stealthily up level with
the chair. BUILDER stirs and looks up at him.
TOPPING. Excuse me, sir, you must 'ave digested yesterday morning's
breakfast by now--must live to eat, sir.
BUILDER. All right. Put it down.
TOPPING. [Putting the tray down on the table and taking up BUILDER'S
pipe] I fair copped those young devils.
BUILDER. You're a good fellow.
TOPPING. [Filling the pipe] You'll excuse me, sir; the Missis--has come
back, sir--
BUILDER stares at him and TOPPING stops. He hands BUILDER the
filled pipe and a box of matches.
BUILDER. [With a shiver] Light the fire, Topping. I'm chilly.
While TOPPING lights the fire BUILDER puts the pipe in his mouth and
applies a match to it. TOPPING, having lighted the fire, turns to
go, gets as far as half way, then comes back level with the table
and regards the silent brooding figure in the chair.
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