Mrs. Anderson. Oh, yes, sir, as I happens to know being woked up sudden, thinkering to hear a burgular, which was only Master Walter Everest, the gent I does for, a-creepering and a-crawlering upstairs.
Jack. Is he often like that? (Takes up and looks at letters on table and puts them down again.)
Mrs. Anderson. Lawk a floury! no, sir, only breaks out occasional when his work’s bad. Mr. Everest is a chemist and electerician.
Jack. Been working hard lately?
Mrs. Anderson. I believes as he have something very musterious and secret inventering at this here identical period of time, some mustery as he keeps in that there cupboard which the door is always locked constant. Oh, very musterious—and queer smells a-penetratering and perfuncteroring the house. Oh, here he are, sir.
(Walter’s door L. opens. She exits D. in F.)
(Walter stumbles in L. He is not to look dissipated, but to act it.)
Walter. Hullo, hullo! whose head is this? It isn’t mine, it can’t be mine. Stop! (Sits top of R. table.) Stop! (Picks up newspaper.) Morning paper, who wants morning paper? (Throws it on floor behind him, and Jack, who is watching him, picks it up. Walter opens letter.) Letters, who wants letters?—oh, one from my tailor, “We greatly regret delay in delivery of your new black coat. We will despatch it to reach your residence without fail to-day. May we remind you that your account——?” No, you may not remind me.
(Jack gives him a rousing smack on the back.)
Hullo, Jack, where did you spring from?