William.
Now?
Robert.
Why not? (spreading out his straps) I’ve had enough of this and to spare. In future mother—mother will celebrate Christmas without me! (Looks round at stove) It’s cold here.
William.
It’s freezing outside.
Robert (rolling up his rug).
There!—Is it? It was thawing about ten o’clock.
William.
There’s a change.