BOX (_sitting down on chair at one side of table, and following COX'S movements_). Will you allow me to observe, if you have not had any exercise to-day, you'd better go out and take it. COX. I shall not do anything of the sort, sir (_seating himself at the table opposite BOX_). BOX. Very well, sir. COX. Very well, sir! However, don't let me prevent _you_ from going out. BOX. Don't flatter yourself, sir. (_COX is about to break a piece of the roll off._) Holloa! that's my roll, sir. (_Snatches it away, puts a pipe in his mouth, lights it with a piece of tinder, and puffs smoke across to COX._) COX. Holloa! What are you about, sir? BOX. What am I about? I'm about to smoke. COX. Wheugh! (_Goes and opens window at BOX'S back._) BOX. Holloa! (_Turns round._) Put down that window, sir! COX. Then put your pipe out, sir! BOX. There! (_Puts pipe on table._) COX. There! (_Slams down window and reseats himself._) BOX. I shall retire to my pillow. (_Goes up, takes off his jacket, then goes towards bed, and sits down upon it, L. C._) COX (_jumps up, goes to bed, and sits down on R. of BOX_). I beg your pardon, sir--I cannot allow any one to rumple my bed. (_Both rising._) BOX. Your bed? Hark ye, sir--can you fight? COX. No, sir. BOX. No? Then come on (_sparring at COX_). COX. Sit down, sir, or I'll instantly vociferate "Police!" BOX (_seats himself. COX does the same_). I say, sir-- COX. Well, sir? BOX. Although we are doomed to occupy the same room for a few hours longer, I don't see any necessity for our cutting each other's throats, sir. COX. Not at all. It's an operation that I should decidedly object to. BOX. And, after all, I've no violent animosity to you, sir. COX. Nor have I any rooted antipathy to you, sir. BOX. Besides, it was all Mrs. Bouncer's fault, sir. COX. Entirely, sir (_gradually approaching chairs_). BOX. Very well, sir! COX. Very well, sir! (_Pause._) BOX. Take a bit of roll, sir? COX. Thank ye, sir (_breaking a bit off. Pause_). BOX. Do you sing, sir? COX. I sometimes join in a chorus. BOX. Then give us a chorus. (_Pause._) Have you seen the Bosjemans, sir? COX. No, sir--my wife wouldn't let me. BOX. Your _wife!_ COX. That is--my _intended_ wife. BOX. Well, that's the same thing! I congratulate you (_shaking hands_). COX (_with a deep sigh_). Thank ye. (_Seeing BOX about to get up._) You needn't disturb yourself, sir. She won't come here. BOX. Oh! I understand. You've got a snug little establishment of your own _here_--on the sly--cunning dog (_nudging COX_). COX (_drawing himself up_). No such thing, sir; I repeat, sir, no such thing, sir; but my wife--I mean, my intended wife--happens to be the proprietor of a considerable number of bathing-machines-- BOX (_suddenly_). Ha! Where? (_grasping COX'S arm_). COX. At a favorite watering-place. How curious you are! BOX. Not at all. Well?