BUILDER. You're a good fellow.
TOPPING. [Filling the pipe] You'll excuse me, sir; the Missis—has come back, sir—
BUILDER stares at him and TOPPING stops. He hands BUILDER the
filled pipe and a box of matches.
BUILDER. [With a shiver] Light the fire, Topping. I'm chilly.
While TOPPING lights the fire BUILDER puts the pipe in his mouth and applies a match to it. TOPPING, having lighted the fire, turns to go, gets as far as half way, then comes back level with the table and regards the silent brooding figure in the chair.
BUILDER. [Suddenly] Give me that paper on the table. No; the other one—the Will.
TOPPING takes up the Will and gives it to him.
TOPPING. [With much hesitation] Excuse me, sir. It's pluck that get's 'em 'ome, sir—begging your pardon.
BUILDER has resumed his attitude and does not answer.
[In a voice just touched with feeling] Good-night, sir.