_Room in_ ANTHONY’S _house_. _Evening._
KARL (_enters_).
No one at home! If I didn’t know the rat-hole under the threshold
where they keep the key, when they all go out, I wouldn’t have
been able to get in. Well, that wouldn’t have mattered. I could
run round the town twenty times and imagine there was no greater
pleasure in the world than using your legs. Let’s have a light.
(_Lights up._) The matches are just where they used to be, I’ll
bet, because in this house we’ve got twice ten commandments.
“Put your hat on the third nail, not the fourth.” “You must be
sleepy at half-past nine.” “You’ve no right to be chilly before
Martinmas and no right to sweat after it.” And that’s on a level
with “Thou shalt fear God and love Him.” I’m thirsty. (_Calls._)
Mother! Phew! I’d forgotten she’d gone where there’s no waiters
to serve you. I didn’t blubber in that gloomy cell when I heard
them ringing the bell for her; but--you red-coat! You didn’t let
me have my last throw in the skittle-alley, although I’d the ball
in my hand. I won’t give you time to breathe your last, when I
find you by yourself. And that may be to-night. I know where to
find you at ten o’clock. And then off to sea! What keeps Clara
out? I’m as hungry as I’m thirsty. To-day’s Thursday. They’ve had
veal broth. If it was winter, there’d have been cabbage; white
cabbage up to Shrove Tuesday and green after. That’s as certain
as that Thursday comes after Wednesday and that it can’t say to
Friday, “Take my place, my feet are tired.”