He stands before the fire with his head bent, excluding as it were his interviewer and all the world.
JOURNALIST. [Preparing to go] Thank you very much, Mr Builder. I'm sure I can do you justice. Would you like to see a proof?
BUILDER. [Half conscious of him] What?
JOURNALIST. Or will you trust me?
BUILDER. I wouldn't trust you a yard.
JOURNALIST. [At the door] Very well, sir; you shall have a proof, I promise. Good afternoon, and thank you.
BUILDER. Here!
But he is gone, and BUILDER is left staring at his brother, on whose face is still that look of whimsical commiseration.
RALPH. Take a pull, old man! Have a hot bath and go to bed.
BUILDER. They've chosen to drive me to extremes, now let them take the consequences. I don't care a kick what anybody thinks.