[Puts pipe on table.
Cox. There!
[Slams down window and re-seats himself.
Box. I shall retire to my pillow. [Goes up, takes off his jacket, then goes towards bed, and sits down upon it, L. C.
Cox. [Jumps up, goes to bed, and sits down on R. of Box.] I beg your pardon, sir—I cannot allow any one to rumple my bed. [Both rising.]
Box. Your bed? Hark ye, sir—can you fight?
Cox. No, sir.
Box. No? Then come on—
[Sparring at Cox.
Cox. Sit down, sir—or I’ll instantly vociferate “Police!”