COX. Then, I suppose, the gentleman you are speaking of, is the same individual that I invariably meet coming up stairs when I'm going down, and going down stairs when I'm coming up! MRS. B. Why--yes--I-- COX. From the appearance of his outward man, I should unhesitatingly set him down as a gentleman connected with the printing interest. MRS. B. Yes, sir--and a very respectable young gentleman he is. COX. Well, good-morning, Mrs. Bouncer! MRS. B. You'll be back at your usual time, I suppose, sir? COX. Yes--nine o'clock. You needn't light my fire in future, Mrs. B.--I'll do it myself. Don't forget the bolster! [_Going, stops._] A halfpenny worth of milk, Mrs. Bouncer--and be good enough to let it stand--I wish the cream to accumulate. [_Exit at L. C._ MRS. B. He's gone at last! I declare I was all in a tremble for fear Mr. Box would come in before Mr. Cox went out. Luckily, they've never met yet--and what's more, they're not very likely to do so; for Mr. Box is hard at work at a newspaper office all night, and doesn't come home till the morning, and Mr. Cox is busy making hats all day long, and doesn't come home till night; so that I'm getting double rent for my room, and neither of my lodgers are any the wiser for it. It was a capital idea of mine--that it was! But I haven't an instant to lose. First of all, let me put Mr. Cox's things out of Mr. Box's way. [_She takes the three hats, COX'S dressing gown and slippers, opens door at L. and puts them in, then shuts door and locks it._] Now, then, to put the key where Mr. Cox always finds it. [_Puts the key on the ledge of the door, L._] I really must beg Mr. Box not to smoke so much. I was so dreadfully puzzled to know what to say when Mr. Cox spoke about it. Now, then, to make the bed--and don't let me forget that what's the head of the bed for Mr. Cox, becomes the foot of the bed for Mr. Box--people's tastes do differ so. [_Goes behind the curtains of the bed, and seems to be making it--then appears with a very thin bolster in her hand._] The idea of Mr. Cox presuming to complain of such a bolster as this! [_She disappears again, behind curtains._] BOX. [_Without._] Pooh--pooh! Why don't you keep your own side of the staircase, sir? [_Enters at back, dressed as a Printer. Puts his head out at door again, shouting._] It was as much your fault as mine, sir! I say, sir--it was as much your fault as mine, sir! MRS. B. [_Emerging from behind the curtains of bed._] Lor, Mr. Box! what is the matter? BOX. Mind your own business, Bouncer! MRS. B. Dear, dear, Mr. Box! what a temper you are in, to be sure! I declare you're quite pale in the face! BOX. What colour would you have a man be, who has been setting up long leaders for a daily paper all night? MRS. B. But, then, you've all the day to yourself.