Bulger. You said to the right.
Leggatt. I meant to my right.
Bulger. (Provoked.) Well, I’ll be everlastingly—
Leggatt. Hold on, Mr. Bulger, it isn’t worth swearing about. It’s of no consequence. We shall have to wait a month longer for tomatoes, that’s all.
Bulger. I’m very sorry, Mr. Leggatt. I’ll turn in now and risk the damp sheets. I hope you will sleep. (Gets in bed.)
Leggatt. But I won’t. I’m in for a night of it.
Bulger. What is the cause of your insomnia?
Leggatt. My book!
Bulger. Keep away from the races, why don’t you?
Leggatt. I don’t mean that kind of a book. It is the great novel I am writing. It is killing me.