PASQUINOT. There goes another brick!
[The MASON sings a number of trills.]
PASQUINOT. Sings well, but works very slowly! By to-morrow the wall will be at least two feet high!
BERGAMIN. I'm impatient to see it higher!
PASQUINOT. What is that you say, Monsieur?
BERGAMIN. I was not addressing you. [A pause.] What do you do evenings after dinner?
PASQUINOT. Nothing—and you?
BERGAMIN. Nothing. [Another pause. They bow and walk about again.]
PASQUINOT. [Stopping] Any news from your son?
BERGAMIN. No—he is still away.