MALISE. [With detached appreciation] Very good, Mrs. Miler.
MRS. MILER. So this mornin', there e' was again on the first floor
with 'is 'and raised, pretendin' to knock at number two. "Oh!
you're still lookin' for 'im?" I says, lettin' him see I was 'is
grandmother. "Ah!" 'e says, affable, "you misdirected me; it's here
I've got my business." "That's lucky," I says, "cos nobody lives
there neither. Good mornin'!" And I come straight up. If you want
to see 'im at work you've only to go downstairs, 'e'll be on the
ground floor by now, pretendin' to knock at number one. Wonderful
resource!
MALISE. What's he like, this gentleman?
MRS. MILER. Just like the men you see on the front page o' the daily
papers. Nasty, smooth-lookin' feller, with one o' them billycock
hats you can't abide.
MALISE. Isn't he a dun?
MRS. MILER. They don't be'ave like that; you ought to know, sir.
He's after no good. [Then, after a little pause] Ain't he to be put
a stop to? If I took me time I could get 'im, innercent-like, with a
jug o' water.
[MALISE, smiling, shakes his head.]
MALISE. You can get on now; I'm going to shave.
He looks at the clock, and passes out into the inner room. MRS.
MILER, gazes round her, pins up her skirt, sits down in the
armchair, takes off her hat and puts it on the table, and slowly
rolls up her sleeves; then with her hands on her knees she
rests. There is a soft knock on the door.
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