(Linton obediently goes to the window, draws back the curtain and cranes his neck as before.)
Linton.—Not a whit better. I can just make out the tower itself. There's no sign of the face of the clock.
Benn (rising with a look of desperation).—Well, I know it's getting on for five. But, look 'ere, you've got to 'ave something to eat before you go.
Linton (with a pretence at lightness).—Oh, don't mind about me.
Benn (angrily).—Mind about you! I'd like to know where you'd ha' been if I 'adn't minded about you!
(Linton, who has been writing on the fogged pane, now returns to the table, leaving the bit of curtain looped back on the string that supports it. With an apologetic look at Benn he drops into his chair and shades his face with his hand. Benn anxiously investigates the cupboard and extracts a cold potato, a piece of bread and two cold
(Linton, who has been writing on the fogged pane, now returns to the table, leaving the bit of curtain looped back on the string that supports it. With an apologetic look at Benn he drops into his chair and shades his face with his hand. Benn anxiously investigates the cupboard and extracts a cold potato, a piece of bread and two cold
