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＇He stretches his limbs as if in pain。＇
WELLWYN。 Are you in pain？
FERRAND。 I 'ave a little the rheumatism。
WELLWYN。 Wet through； of course！ ＇Glancing towards the house。＇ Wait
a bit！ I wonder if you'd like these trousers； they'veerthey're
not quite
＇He passes through the door into the house。 FERRAND stands at
the fire； with his limbs spread as it were to embrace it；
smoking with abandonment。 WELLWYN returns stealthily； dressed
in a Jaeger dressing…gown； and bearing a pair of drawers； his
trousers； a pair of slippers； and a sweater。＇
WELLWYN。 ＇Speaking in a low voice； for the door is still open。＇ Can
you make these do for the moment？
FERRAND。 'Je vous remercie'； Monsieur。 ＇Pointing to the screen。＇
May I retire？
WELLWYN。 Yes； yes。
＇FERRAND goes behind the screen。 WELLWYN closes the door into
the house； then goes to the window to draw the curtains。 He
suddenly recoils and stands petrified with doubt。
WELLWYN。 Good Lord！
＇There is the sound of tapping on glass。 Against the
window…pane is pressed the face of a man。 WELLWYN motions to him
to go away。 He does not go； but continues tapping。 WELLWYN
opens the door。 There enters a square old man； with a red；
pendulous jawed； shaking face under a snow besprinkled bowler
hat。 He is holding out a visiting card with tremulous hand。
WELLWYN。 Who's that？ Who are you？
TIMSON。 ＇In a thick； hoarse； shaking voice。＇ 'Appy to see you； sir；
we 'ad a talk this morning。 TimsonI give you me name。 You invited
of me； if ye remember。
WELLWYN。 It's a little late； really。
TIMSON。 Well； ye see； I never expected to 'ave to call on yer。 I
was 'itched up all right when I spoke to yer this mornin'； but bein'
Christmas； things 'ave took a turn with me to…day。 ＇He speaks with
increasing thickness。＇ I'm reg'lar disgustednot got the price of a
bed abaht me。 Thought you wouldn't like me to be delicatenot at my
age。
WELLWYN。 ＇With a mechanical and distracted dive of his hands into
his pockets。＇ The fact is； it so happens I haven't a copper on me。
TIMSON。 ＇Evidently taking this for professional refusal。＇ Wouldn't
arsk you if I could 'elp it。 'Ad to do with 'orses all me life。
It's this 'ere cold I'm frightened of。 I'm afraid I'll go to sleep。
WELLWYN。 Well； really； I
TIMSON。 To be froze to deathI meanit's awkward。
WELLWYN。 ＇Puzzled and unhappy。＇ Wellcome in a moment； and let's
think it out。 Have some tea！
＇He pours out the remains of the tea； and finding there is not
very much； adds rum rather liberally。 TIMSON； who walks a
little wide at the knees； steadying his gait； has followed。
TIMSON。 ＇Receiving the drink。＇ Yer 'ealth。 'Ere'ssoberiety！
＇He applies the drink to his lips with shaking hand。 Agreeably
surprised。＇ Blimey！ Thish yer tea's foreign； ain't it？
FERRAND。 ＇Reappearing from behind the screen in his new clothes of
which the trousers stop too soon。＇ With a needle； Monsieur； I would
soon have with what to make face against the world。
WELLWYN。 Too short！ Ah！
＇He goes to the dais on which stands ANN's workbasket； and takes
from it a needle and cotton。＇
＇While he is so engaged FERRAND is sizing up old TIMSON； as one
dog will another。 The old man； glass in hand； seems to have
lapsed into coma。＇
FERRAND。 ＇Indicating TIMSON＇ Monsieur！
＇He makes the gesture of one drinking； and shakes his head。＇
WELLWYN。 ＇Handing him the needle and cotton。＇ Um！ Afraid so！
＇They approach TIMSON； who takes no notice。＇
FERRAND。 ＇Gently。＇ It is an old cabby； is it not； Monsieur？ 'Ceux
sont tous des buveurs'。
WELLWYN。 ＇Concerned at the old man's stupefaction。＇ Now； my old
friend； sit down a moment。 ＇They manoeuvre TIMSON to the settle。＇
Will you smoke？
TIMSON。 ＇In a drowsy voice。＇ Thank 'ee…smoke pipe of 'baccer。 Old
'orsestandin' abaht in th' cold。
＇He relapses into coma。＇
FERRAND。 ＇With a click of his tongue。＇ 'Il est parti'。
WELLWYN。 ＇Doubtfully。＇ He hasn't really left a horse outside； do
you think？
FERRAND。 Non； non； Monsieurno 'orse。 He is dreaming。 I know very
well that state of himthat catches you sometimes。 It is the warmth
sudden on the stomach。 He will speak no more sense to…night。 At the
most； drink； and fly a little in his past。
WELLWYN。 Poor old buffer！
FERRAND。 Touching； is it not； Monsieur？ There are many brave gents
among the old cabbiesthey have philosophythat comes from 'orses；
and from sitting still。
WELLWYN。 ＇Touching TIMSON's shoulder。＇ Drenched！
FERRAND。 That will do 'im no 'arm； Monsieur…no 'arm at all。 He is
well wet inside； rememberit is Christmas to…morrow。 Put him a rug；
if you will； he will soon steam。
＇WELLWYN takes up ANN's long red cloak； and wraps it round the
old man。＇
TIMSON。 ＇Faintly roused。＇ Tha's right。 Putthe rug on th' old
'orse。
＇He makes a strange noise； and works his head and tongue。＇
WELLWYN。 ＇Alarmed。＇ What's the matter with him？
FERRAND。 It is nothing； Monsieur； for the moment he thinks 'imself a
'orse。 'Il joue 〃cache…cache；〃' 'ide and seek； with what you call
'is bitt。
WELLWYN。 But what's to be done with him？ One can't turn him out in
this state。
FERRAND。 If you wish to leave him 'ere； Monsieur； have no fear。 I
charge myself with him。
WELLWYN。 Oh！ ＇Dubiously。＇ YouerI really don't know； Ihadn't
contemplatedYou think you could manage if Iif I went to bed？
FERRAND。 But certainly； Monsieur。
WELLWYN。 ＇Still dubiously。＇ Youyou're sure you've everything you
want？
FERRAND。 ＇Bowing。＇ 'Mais oui； Monsieur'。
WELLWYN。 I don't know what I can do by staying。
FERRAND。 There is nothing you can do； Monsieur。 Have confidence in
me。
WELLWYN。 Well…keep the fire up quietlyvery quietly。 You'd better
take this coat of mine； too。 You'll find it precious cold； I expect；
about three o'clock。 ＇He hands FERRAND his Ulster。＇
FERRAND。 ＇Taking it。＇ I shall sleep in praying for you； Monsieur。
WELLWYN。 Ah！ Yes！ Thanks！ Well…good…night！ By the way； I shall
be down rather early。 Have to think of my household a bit； you know。
FERRAND。 'Tres bien； Monsieur'。 I comprehend。 One must well be
regular in this life。
WELLWYN。 ＇With a start。＇ Lord！ ＇He looks at the door of the
model's room。＇ I'd forgotten
FERRAND。 Can I undertake anything； Monsieur？
WELLWYN。 No； no！ ＇He goes to the electric light switch by the outer
door。＇ You won't want this； will you？
FERRAND。 'Merci； Monsieur'。
＇WELLWYN switches off the light。＇
FERRAND。 'Bon soir； Monsieur'！
WELLWYN。 The devil！ Ergood…night！
＇He hesitates； rumples his hair； and passes rather suddenly
away。＇
FERRAND。 ＇To himself。＇ Poor pigeon！ ＇Looking long at old TIMSON＇
'Espece de type anglais！'
＇He sits down in the firelight； curls up a foot on his knee； and
taking out a knife； rips the stitching of a turned…up end of
trouser； pinches the cloth double； and puts in the preliminary
stitch of a new hemall with the swiftness of one well…