VAN. Good morning, young woman. You are not a bad-looking girl.
REBECCA. (_aside_) He is mighty familiar. Might I ask how you got in? I didn't hear any one knock.
VAN. No, the door was ajar--not that it would have made any difference if it had been shut; you see I've a latch key.
VAN. Yes, I took it away with me by mistake in one of my pockets. Go and tell your mistress, a gentleman with dark hair wishes to speak with her.
REBECCA. You'll excuse me, sir, but your hair isn't dark.
VAN. Never mind the colour of my hair--do as I tell you--I want to surprise her.
REBECCA. Missus is not at home, sir. (_aside_) A latch key, and so intimate with Mrs. Bobbins, who the deuce can he be?
VAN. Very well--as your mistress is not at home, you can get me some breakfast; I feel rather sharp set.
VAN. Yes, don't you understand me? B-r-e-a-k, break, f-a-s-t, fast, breakfast--the girl's silly.
REBECCA. But won't you be pleased to tell me--
VAN. (_taking her up_) What I should like to have? Oh, anything--I'm not particular; a steak or a chop.
VAN. Who I am? True, you don't know me. My name is--(_recollecting himself_) No matter for my name--I rather fancy your mistress will know me when she sees me. I only hope it won't be too much for her.
REBECCA. (_aside_) Oh, he must be some relation. Master said if any one called, they were to wait.
REBECCA. (_aside_) He's an extraordinary looking fellow! What a beard he has got! I hardly know what to do, as they are neither of them at home; but I suppose there will be no harm in giving him some breakfast.
VAN. Come, I say young woman, are you going to move? You are not aware that I haven't tasted anything to-day.
VAN. That girl wouldn't make a bad model; but she don't seem very bright. Egad! I have been so long away in the Crimea, that I feel half inclined to make love to every pretty woman I meet. That was an uncommonly fine creature that got into the train at Bishopstoke; rather stiff though, at first, but before we came to the journey's end I had quite broken the ice with her. By the way, I am afraid I ran away from her rather abruptly this morning--quite forgot to look after her luggage and all that sort of thing. No great wonder either--once arrived in London, how could I think of any one but my dear little wife? How I long to see her. (_going to sit down, sees the morning gown_) What's this? a morning gown. (_examining it_) To be sure--I recollect it. I declare, it gave me, quite a turn! The one I had made just before I went away! Affectionate little soul! hanging over the chair back to keep her company. I dare say she's in the habit of kissing and talking to it every day of her life. I feel rather tired--I'll put it on. (_takes off his coat and puts on the dressing gown_) Home, sweet home! they may well say "there's no place like home." (_wrapping the gown round him_) Ullo! why, it fits me like a sack. How I must have fallen away in the Crimea.