Cray. Yes—fat brutes with as many legs to 'em as an Empire ballet—all over the walls by day—all over the bed at night. If you lit a candle you saw 'em—if you didn't you felt 'em. Pah! filthy devils! (sits exhausted) Could I have a whiskey and soda?
Pil. You haven't mentioned the object of your visit.
Cray. Man named Dorvaston hangs out here, don't he?
Pil. Captain Dorvaston is my guest at present.
Cray. Thought so. Promised to look him up. We're goin' to price a horse—a nailer—risin' thirteen—and well up to Dorvaston's weight—which is sayin' somethin'.
Pil. Captain Dorvaston's physique is substantial.
Cray. If he stood on your foot, I expect you'd ask him to move.
Pil. Probably!
Cray. He's goin' to be somethin' to you by marriage, ain't he?