Vicky
Why should he—when he has everything in the world?
Halligan
It’s his father he’s after wantin’, I think. Just that.
Vicky
Shh!
[A clock strikes ten. David glances nervously at his watch. Halligan stiffens to attention. Vicky stands erect, expectantly. The door at the left opens, and Millman, a fine-looking man in his forties, enters briskly, snapping shut his watch as he crosses the threshold. He is all alertness and no waste motion—his time is precious—he never forgets that.]
Millman
Merry Christmas, Davy.
David