PIFF. Yes, it’s very tasty, sir. It’s unfortunate it’s so sloppy; and you see, sir, eating it in that way does not show off the figure to advantage. Peters, remove your master’s plate.
(Peters does so, placing it a few feet beyond Allen’s left hand. Allen watches it with jealous eyes. Peters then holds the pâté de foie gras to Allen. He slowly runs his eye up Peters with awe, and then looks at the pâté de foie gras, then using one hand attempts to take it. Peters, not moving a muscle, holds it tight. Allen seems surprised, and partly rising, attempts to take it with both hands.)
PIFF. (Coming to his rescue, cutting a piece, and putting it on his plate.) Allow me, sir. Peters, the brown bread and butter.
PET. (Looking for it.) It is not on the table, sir.
PIFF. No brown bread and butter; dear me, how remiss!
(Crosses l. and rings bell. Peters also crosses l.c. door, Allen looks cautiously round and sees they are not watching him, and stealthily reaches over and secures a knifeful of gravy. He is about having a second and has the knife close to his mouth, when he becomes aware that Piff has returned and is watching him. He tries to hide the knife out of sight. Peters has returned with bread and butter.)
PIFF. (Severely.) Peters, remove your master’s knife. Don’t you see that it is in his way?
(Peters does so, and then holds the bread and butter to Allen, who takes a thin slice, folds it up, and holds it in his left hand while taking the pâté on a fork in his right. He puts first the pâté and then the bread and butter into his mouth and swallows them.)
PIFF. I must apologize for serving you your breakfast in here, sir. Of course, you will not have it in the drawing-room as a rule.
ALLEN. No, a’ coorse not. No; us alius used to have it in the kitchen at home.