on you're facing, Mayor.

MAYOR. Dear, dear! You're devilish bitter, Builder. It's unfortunate,
this publicity. But it'll all blow over; and you'll be back where you
were. You've a good sound practical sense underneath your temper. [A
pause] Come, now! [A pause] Well, I'll say good-night, then.

BUILDER. You shall have them in writing tomorrow.

MAYOR. [With sincerity] Come! Shake 'ands.

BUILDER, after a long look, holds out his hand. The two men exchange a
grip.

The MAYOR, turning abruptly, goes out.

BUILDER remains motionless for a minute, then resumes his seat at
the side of the writing table, leaning his head on his hands.

The Boy's head is again seen rising above the level of the
window-sill, and another and another follows, till the three,
as if decapitated, heads are seen in a row.

BOYS' VOICES. [One after another in a whispered crescendo] Johnny
Builder! Johnny Builder! Johnny Builder!

BUILDER rises, turns and stares at them. The THREE HEADS disappear,
and a Boy's voice cries shrilly: "Johnny Builder!" BUILDER moves
towards the window; voices are now crying in various pitches and
keys: "Johnny Builder!" "Beatey Builder!" "Beat 'is wife-er!"
"Beatey Builder!"

BUILDER stands quite motionless, staring, with the street lamp
lighting up a queer, rather pitiful defiance on his face. The
voices swell. There comes a sudden swish and splash of water, and
broken yells of dismay.

TOPPING'S VOICE. Scat! you young devils!

The sound of scuffling feet and a long-drawnout and distant
"Miaou!"

BUILDER stirs, shuts the window, draws the curtains, goes to the
armchair before the fireplace and sits down in it.

TOPPING enters with a little tray on which is a steaming jug of
fluid, some biscuits and a glass. He comes stealthily up level with
the chair. BUILDER stirs and looks up at him.

TOPPING. Excuse me, sir, you must 'ave digested yesterday morning's
breakfast by now--must live to eat, sir.

BUILDER. All right. Put it down.

TOPPING. [Putting the tray down on the table and taking up BUILDER'S
pipe] I fair copped those young devils.

BUILDER. You're a good fellow.

TOPPING. [Filling the pipe] You'll excuse me, sir; the Missis--has come
back, sir--

BUILDER stares at him and TOPPING stops. He hands BUILDER the
filled pipe and a box of matche