PIFF. Yes, sir. Must have been very convenient. But I think I’ll get you to put up with the breakfast parlour in future, sir—when the room’s ready. Have you quite finished, sir?
ALLEN. (Humbly suggesting.) I think I’d like a little more o’ that pie. (Looking longingly at pie the other side of table.) You see, I alius wur a hearty eater. (Said as apology).
PIFF. Yes, sir, I’m delighted to hear it, sir; but I wouldn’t eat any more breakfast, sir. You will find it is considered correct among bons vivants to eat a very sparse dejeuner. My late lamented master, the Count de Fizziani, never partook of anything but a cup of weak tea and a little dry toast, and he was one of the oldest families in Europe.
(Allen rises, Peters bows as he does so, and Allen returns the bow and comes dozen R.)
ALLEN. Ah, I shouldn’t ’a’ thought as anyone could ‘a’ lived long on that. (He bows).
PIFF. No necessity to bow, sir.
ALLEN. He did it. (Indicating Peters).
PIFF. He’s paid for it.
ALLEN. I allus seem to want a good feed myself in the morning. (Takes out an old clay pipe and prepares to fill it. Goes down r. and sits in chair. Peters is clearing away the breakfast things).
PIFF. Are you thinking of smoking, sir?