ALLEN. Yes; I allus has a whiff or two arter breakfast.
PIFF. It’s very soothing, sir. My late lamented master, the Count de Fizziani, used to follow precisely the same course. But I wouldn’t smoke a pipe, sir. Pipes are going out in good society. (Takes cigarette case from pocket and offers it to Allen. Takes pipe from Allen and puts it on corner of table R.c.) I have some cigarettes here, sir, which I think you will like, sir. These are much more comme il faut, sir. This case is a present from my late lamented master, the Count.
(Allen looks at them and gingerly takes one.)
ALLEN. Which end?
PIFF. (Lighting match.) Either end, sir. Allow me. (Showing matchbox.) Another little souvenir from my late master. He was always acknowledging, if I may say so, my value to him. That sort of thing is always done in good society now. (Lights cigarette.) It is a full flavored one, sir. (Piffin takes Allen’s pipe from table r.c., crossing with it to window r.)
ALLEN. (Watching him, anxiously.) Don’t hurt him.
PIFF. (Turning round.) I was just going to put it outside on the window-sill, sir.
ALLEN. No, don’t put him there. We used to sit up together of a night watching the sheep. I don’t like the thought of putting him outside the window, now I’m a gentleman. Drop him in the pocket of that old shooting coat o’ mine that thee won’t let me wear. They know each other. (Sits r.and smokes his cigarette. Piff. puts the pipe on table and returns r.c.)
PIFF. (Noticing that Allen is looking at his cigarette.) All right, sir? (r.)
ALLEN. Yes—yes, thank you, Mr. Puffin—