Exit, C., and off, R., followed by THWAITES.
Re-enter WHITEWASH, dragging PAWKINS by the collar, from L. C.
PAWKINS. (L.) Come now, I say, draw it mild! You’ll spile my best coat; I only took it out a purpose to come here.
WHITE. (R.) Pawkins, we are alone—Pawkins, as your professional adviser, you are bound to tell me everything. Pawkins, when you came here, what was your intention?
PAWKINS. Why, I com’d here in the hope of doing something in the way of business.
WHITE. Business, indeed! Why, there were all the streets of London open to your ingenuity, and you must pick out the residence of my father-in-law. (takes stage to R.)
PAWKINS. (following him up) Well, I didn’t know it was your father-in-law—and if it is, what’s the hodds? This ’ere Mr.—summat in the fancy soap line, sends me a hinwite, and so I comes with the tongs in my pocket—well, it turns out he don’t want the tongs, but he’s taken a likin’ to me. That arn’t no fault o’ mine is it? I never tries to be extra agreeable. (returns to C. of stage)
WHITE. (aside) Perhaps the miserable wretch has commenced already. What have you been doing with yourself?
PAWKINS. Why, I’ve been a looking at them silver gimcracks on the sideboard, and I says to myself—my eyes! if one of them five thingumbobs as don’t seem no use here belonged to me——
WHITE. (aside) Unhappy train of thought! Allow me for a moment——(puts his hand in the tail pocket of PAWKINS’S coat)