THE JUBILEE
(Scene: The managing director’s study at a bank; furnished with affected sumptuousness. Velvet-covered furniture, flowers, statues, rugs, telephone. Midday. Hirin, the bookkeeper, is alone.)
Hirin (shouts at the door): Go to the chemist’s and get three ha’penny worth of nerve tonic, and tell them to bring some fresh water to the director’s study. I’ve got to tell you a hundred times! (Goes to table.) I’m tired out. I’ve been writing for four days without closing my eyes; from morning to evening I’m writing here, and from evening to morning, at home. (Coughs.) My whole body’s inflamed. Shivering, fever, coughing; I’ve got rheumatism in my legs, things keep coming in front of my eyes. (Sits down.) Our old joker, this brute, this managing director, is going to read the report to-day at the general meeting: “Our bank at the present moment and in time to
