Box. Very well, sir.
Cox. Very well, sir! However, don’t let me prevent you from going out.
Box. Don’t flatter yourself, sir. [Cox is about to break a piece of the roll off.] Holloa! that’s my roll, sir— [Snatches it away—puts a pipe in his mouth, lights it with a piece of tinder—and puffs smoke across to Cox.
Cox. Holloa! What are you about, sir?
Box. What am I about? I’m about to smoke.
Cox. Wheugh!
[Goes and opens window at Box’s back.
Box. Holloa! [Turns round.] Put down that window, sir!
Cox. Then put your pipe out, sir!
Box. There!