"I ain't got that much wrapping paper. You don't know what you're saying."
"Are you questioning my sanity."
"Yeah."
"Let me repeat. You own this shop."
"What do you mean, repeat. You haven't said it once yet."
"I repeat. You own this shop."
"Look mister I understand English/1
"And let me repeat. I want to buy every cane in your shop."
"This is a store. But if you repeat I'm going to repeat. I've had a lot of people come in here in my time. And what is happening at this moment is original. They come in about the ape."
"A most obscene exhibition too."
"That's God's problem mister. But you come in about some problem you got, I think."
"The canes please."
"I said I got two hundred, what do I know what they cost together."
"Write a round figure on a piece of paper."
"How do I know how much two hundred canes are worth."
"I'm not suggesting you rob yourself. A round figure."
"What are you trying to do to me."
"Write a satisfactory figure on a piece of paper. I will fetch a car and you get your bank to phone my bank."
"Certainly not. You can't make me write anything on a piece of paper what do you think this is."
"Dear me. You are amusing. Goodness. I can't believe it. Completely irresponsible. Utterly pig headed. Round figure. I repeat."
"Stop saying that."
"A simple thing like canes."
"Mister, before I ask you where you come from, why don't you just buy that jug, look, an antique thermometer, with one of these things tells you the weather. Never have to go outside, and you know it's raining. No insult, but it might suit you good."
"The instrument looks broken and rather battered to me."
"What do you expect. Antique."
"Canes."
"Can't you get off that subject. Look, here's a table that's got real foreign worm holes. That carving. Right up the leg, a craftsman did it"
"I'm particularly fascinated by carved canes."
"Do me a favour mister. Here's a doll, real hair. You could buy a carriage, push it around. I think it would make you feel better because. Look why this chair. Say I got it, here this brass pig. A round figure. Ha ha. That's a good one. How about this."
"Wrap it up."
"No kidding."
"No kidding."
"Mister thanks, thanks a lot. You sure had me worried. And for you I take ten percent off. And let for a change me repeat, thanks a lot and merry Christmas."
George attired in the double breasted suit of the cunning connoisseur, on top of which he wore a great coat with a bear fur collar. Leaving the hairy garment swinging open as he did business. Every little percent helps. And tucking up this brass omnivorous hoofed mammal, reminder of swine everywhere. Smith picked up polish and made it safely to Merry Mansions and past Hugo who pretended to read the early evening paper. Dolt.
Inside Flat Fourteen. Music from the sitting room. White scraps of dishes over the hall. To the left, master's quarters, to the right servant's. One hesitates wondering which way. Well, how do you like this.
"Matilda, I hate interrupting the music."
"Hey I didn't hear you come in Mr. Smith."
"I'd prefer Matilda, if you'd wear your uniform."
"What's the matter with what I'm wearing."
"It's what you're not wearing Matilda."
"O say that's cute, that's a little pig. Where did you get it. Gee Air. Smith let me feel it."
"Stand back''
"What's a matter Mr. Smith I just want to feel it. A real cute thing. Mr. Smith, you've been worrying again. I know you have. Yes, I see it. You don't fool me. You been to the antique shop to soothe your nerves, I know it. You sit right down there. Here have this pillow. Take your coat. Won't touch that pig. Been thinking Mr. Smith, I've got no right to interfere with your business life. No. I've got no right. That's not my place. My place is out there in that kitchen. And in here if necessary to make you comfortable. I just wanted to keep you calm. It's people who upset people. But I think, well, my place is the kitchen."
"I'm not disputing this little testimony, Matilda. But I come in and find you stretched out on the couch. Appreciate your selection of music. But just making clear you seem to have a place on the couch as well as a place in the kitchen."
"Mr. Smith the resounding crash of those plates in my ears this morning brought it home to me as I was nearly jumping out of my skin in which I was standing at the time, that me and you Mr. Smith shouldn't fall out like that, just like the dishes it cracks you up. I just know it does. Loving words that are kind and true, loving deeds and blessings too."
"I see."
"My job's to you. Building up the years of faithful service. To go on my record. That's something to be proud of. When they lay me down with the roses all around, lilies, that crazy wisteria, on top, right on that coffin, Mr. Smith, so's everyone can see it. That testimonial of the faithful years of service. At those gates, dig that testimonial big God. Note the sacrifice. What's that look, Mr. Smith. You sick."
"I want a bottle of sparkling white wine."
"Just let me touch this little pig once, Mr. Smith/9
"Get back."
"Gee you're mean. I only want to touch it. Gosh."
"Gee you're mean.
"In due course."
"In due course my ass."
"Watch the language."
"Slave cooking over a hot stove. Sure, you want olives. You go buy a barrel I got to stand smelling all day. You don't think of that. Hot chocolate drink at night. You find someone to do that. Let me touch your pig. I'm not going to kill it. Here you just feel me. Here come on. That's another thing. You think I'm fat, just feel here, solid I'm telling you."
"Get some ice in this bucket."
"Feel me, Mr. Smith."
"Feel me, "Back."
"It'll astound you. This thigh, Mr. Smith."
"Matilda."
"Feel, Mr. Smith."
"Our behaviour may be watched."
"What's a feel, Mr. Smith. Before you catch that train."
"A feel at this moment is foolish."
"Press here, Mr. Smith."
"Stop getting close."
"Show you it's not fat, Mr. Smith. Feel."
"My my."
"Told you Mr. Smith. Aren't you surprised."
"No one would ever know, how solid you are."
"That Miss Tomson's a bag of bones. Not a nice mattress like me. She tried to knee me, Mr. Smith. Right there. And you see her claws."
Out the window across the street a happy family having ham and cabbage. A mother, father, eight little kiddies. One kiddie getting a wallop across the mouth disappearing from view. He must wonder, that father, what it's like to be free of those burdens. Well mister, in the first place, its marvelous and in the second, again marvelous. See, put lips to the rim of this hand blown glass. Let the white grape have its timorous say on one's chops. My God he's looking at me in a resentful fashion.
"Matilda, draw the drapes."
George sat chewing the cud over matters. Unhappy memories. The vague muscle in Miss Tomson's arm and the last bang she gave the door and the black mounds of her rear. Is it wrong my mouth waters. Chime of a church steeple tolls seven. How the sound can get through the roar of traffic. Tomorrow morning awake early for a walk in the sun over the snow.
Goodbye to Matilda. Smith on his way out of Merry Mansions. Crossing the lobby just catching that reassuring polished look of himself in the mirror, when confronted by a gentleman just taking off his hat and taking a hanky to to wipe cold steam from his spectacles.
"I may have introduced myself before, I'm Mr. Stone, and of course you're Mr. Smith."
"Hello, Mr. Stone and goodbye, I'm catching a train. Compliments of the season, of course."
"Mind if we tarry a moment."
"Afraid I do."
"In that case might I quickly advise you of certain facts."