I've been thinking about the last one. BEN. What last one?
GUS. That girl.
BEN grabs the paper, which he reads.
(Rising, looking down at BEN). How many times have you read that paper?
BEN slams the paper down and rises.
BEN (angrily). What do you mean?
GUS. I was just wondering how many times you'd --
GUS. What are you doing, criticizing me?
GUS. No, I was just--
BEN. You'll get a swipe round your earhole if you don't watch your step.
GUS. No look here, Ben--
BEN. I'm not looking anywhere! (He addresses the room.) How many times have I--! A bloody liberty!
GUS. I didn't mean that.
BEN. You just get on with it, mate. Get on with it, that's all.
BEN gets back on the bed.
GUS. I was just thinking about that girl, that's all.
GUS sits on his bed.
She wasn't much to look at, I know, but still. It was a mess though, wasn't it? What a mess. Honest, I can't remember a mess like that one. They don't seem to hold together like men, women. A looser texture, like. Didn't she spread, eh? She didn't half spread. Kaw! But I've been meaning to ask you.
BEN sits up and clenches his eyes.
Who clears up after we've gone? I'm curious about that. Who does the clearing up? Maybe they don't clear up. Maybe they just leave them there, eh? What do you think? How many jobs have we done? Blimey, I can't count them. What if they never clear anything up after we've gone.
BEN (pityingly). You mutt. Do you think we're the only branch of this organization? Have a bit of common. They got departments for everything.
GUS. What cleaners and all?
BEN. You birk!
GUS. No, it was that girl made me start to think--
There is a loud clatter and racket in the bulge of wall between the beds, of something descending. They grab their revolvers, jump up and face the wall. The noise comes to a stop. Silence. They look at each other. BEN gestures sharply towards the wall. GUS approaches the wall slowly. He bangs it with his revolver. It is hollow. BEN moves to the head of his bed, his revolver cocked. GUS puts his revolver on his bed and pats along the bottom of the center panel. He finds a rim. He lifts the panel. Disclosed is a serving-hatch, a dumb waiter. A wide box is held by pulleys. GUS peers into the box. He brings out a pieces of paper.
BEN. What is it?
GUS. You have a look at it.
BEN. Read it.
GUS (reading). Two braised steak and chips. Two sago puddings. Two teas without sugar. BEN. Let me see that. (He takes the paper.)
GUS. (to himself). Two teas without sugar.
BEN. Mmnn.
GUS. What do you think of that?
BEN. Well--
The box goes up. BEN levels his revolver.
GUS. Give us a chance! They're in a hurry, aren't they?
BEN re-reads the note. GUS looks over his shoulder.
That's a bit funny, isn't it?
BEN (quickly). No. It's not funny. It probably used to be a café here, that’s all. Upstairs. These places change hands very quickly.
GUS. A café?
BEN. Yes.
GUS. What, you mean this was the kitchen, down here?
I've been thinking about the last one. BEN. What last one?GUS. That girl.BEN grabs the paper, which he reads.(Rising, looking down at BEN). How many times have you read that paper?BEN slams the paper down and rises.BEN (angrily). What do you mean?GUS. I was just wondering how many times you'd --GUS. What are you doing, criticizing me?GUS. No, I was just--BEN. You'll get a swipe round your earhole if you don't watch your step.GUS. No look here, Ben--BEN. I'm not looking anywhere! (He addresses the room.) How many times have I--! A bloody liberty!GUS. I didn't mean that.BEN. You just get on with it, mate. Get on with it, that's all.BEN gets back on the bed.GUS. I was just thinking about that girl, that's all.GUS sits on his bed.She wasn't much to look at, I know, but still. It was a mess though, wasn't it? What a mess. Honest, I can't remember a mess like that one. They don't seem to hold together like men, women. A looser texture, like. Didn't she spread, eh? She didn't half spread. Kaw! But I've been meaning to ask you.BEN sits up and clenches his eyes.Who clears up after we've gone? I'm curious about that. Who does the clearing up? Maybe they don't clear up. Maybe they just leave them there, eh? What do you think? How many jobs have we done? Blimey, I can't count them. What if they never clear anything up after we've gone.BEN (pityingly). You mutt. Do you think we're the only branch of this organization? Have a bit of common. They got departments for everything.GUS. What cleaners and all?BEN. You birk!GUS. No, it was that girl made me start to think--There is a loud clatter and racket in the bulge of wall between the beds, of something descending. They grab their revolvers, jump up and face the wall. The noise comes to a stop. Silence. They look at each other. BEN gestures sharply towards the wall. GUS approaches the wall slowly. He bangs it with his revolver. It is hollow. BEN moves to the head of his bed, his revolver cocked. GUS puts his revolver on his bed and pats along the bottom of the center panel. He finds a rim. He lifts the panel. Disclosed is a serving-hatch, a dumb waiter. A wide box is held by pulleys. GUS peers into the box. He brings out a pieces of paper.BEN. What is it?GUS. You have a look at it.BEN. Read it.GUS (reading). Two braised steak and chips. Two sago puddings. Two teas without sugar. BEN. Let me see that. (He takes the paper.)GUS. (to himself). Two teas without sugar.BEN. Mmnn.GUS. What do you think of that?BEN. Well--The box goes up. BEN levels his revolver.GUS. Give us a chance! They're in a hurry, aren't they?BEN re-reads the note. GUS looks over his shoulder.That's a bit funny, isn't it?BEN (quickly). No. It's not funny. It probably used to be a café here, that’s all. Upstairs. These places change hands very quickly.GUS. A café?BEN. Yes.GUS. What, you mean this was the kitchen, down here?
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