Linton (seating himself).—Oh, not badly.
Mrs. Benn.—There's a mouthful in the bottle, Joe. Give it to 'im before 'e goes to bed. I'll not need it.
Benn.—'Ave some brawn, Mr. Linton.
Linton.—Very little.
Mrs. Benn.—'Ave some cheese. It's nice and nippy.
Linton.—Oh, I daresay my appetite will come back to me.
(A door slams below. Small feet begin stamping up the stairs.)
A child's voice, below: Mother!
(A door slams below. Small feet begin stamping up the stairs.)
A child's voice, below: Mother!
Benn.—It's Gladys, back from the practice.
(Mrs. Benn springs to the door and opens it.)
(Mrs. Benn springs to the door and opens it.)
Child's Voice.—Hold the lamp, mother. It's awful dark.
(Linton turns in his chair with a look of pain.)
(Linton turns in his chair with a look of pain.)
Linton (loudly).—Not awful, Gladys, awfully—or exceedingly, my dear.
