But here. He is here. Yes, he is well, he
seems well, but he is eating his breakfast. Yes, he is having breakfast
served out here--for himself, and the other gentlemen are to come
too.--Well, he seemed to be annoyed because the heat had been turned off
from the house. But the door keeps opening--this stormy wind blowing
right over the plants. The temperature has already fallen.--Yes, yes. I
thought you would want to come.
(ANTHONY _opens the trap-door and goes below_. HARRY _looks
disapprovingly down into this openness at his feet, returns to his
breakfast_. ANTHONY _comes up, bearing a box_.)
HARRY: (_turning his face away_) Phew! What a smell.
ANTHONY: Yes. Fertilizer has to smell.
HARRY: Well, it doesn't have to smell up my breakfast!
ANTHONY: (_with a patient sense of order_) The smell belongs here. (_he
and the smell go to the inner room_)
(_The outer door opens just enough to admit_ CLAIRE--_is quickly closed.
With_ CLAIRE _in a room another kind of aliveness is there_.)
CLAIRE: What are you doing here?
HARRY: Getting breakfast. (_all the while doing so_)
CLAIRE: I'll not have you in my place!
HARRY: If you take all the heat then you have to take me.
CLAIRE: I'll show you how I have to take you.
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