Krakau [taking the other end hastily]. Coming, coming!
[The table moved, there is another pause. Each is on his own side. Helms potters helplessly with the bottles and glasses.]
Krakau. Need any help?
Helms. You stand there doing nothing and you ask me— [The rest is a sullen growl.]
[Krakau takes the glasses, puts them on a tray and carries them across to left.]
Helms. Where are you going with my glasses?
Krakau [stops]. I was going to wash them.
Helms. Well, don't forget whom they belong to.
Krakau. Don't worry. [Puts the glasses on the wash stand.] Shall I light the lamp?
Helms. You can't see in the dark, can you?