GERVASE.  Eating your what?

SUSAN.  My simple breakfast.

GERVASE (shaking his head).  I’m very sorry, but I really don’t think I could bear it.  Only five minutes ago Ernest—­I don’t know if you know Ernest?

SUSAN.  The great Ernest?

GERVASE (indicating with his hand).  No, the very small one—­Well, he was telling me all about the breakfast he’d just had, and now you’re showing me the breakfast you’re just going to have—­no, I can’t bear it.

SUSAN.  My dear sir, you don’t mean to tell me that you would do me the honour of joining me at my simple repast?

GERVASE (jumping up excitedly).  The honour of joining you!—­the honour!  My dear Mr. Susan!  Now I know why they call you Gentleman Susan. (Shaking his head sadly) But no.  It wouldn’t be fair to you.  I should eat too much.  Besides, Ernest may come back.  No, I will wait.  It wouldn’t be fair.

SUSAN (unpacking his breakfast).  Bacon or cheese?

GERVASE.  Cheese—­I mean bacon—­I mean—­I say, you aren’t serious?

SUSAN (handing him bread and cheese).  I trust you will find it up to your expectations.

GERVASE (taking it).  I say, you really—­(Solemnly) Master Susan, with all the passion and emotion of which I am capable before breakfast, I say “Thank you.” (He takes a bite) Thank you.

SUSAN (eating also).  Please do not mention it.  I am more than repaid by your company.

GERVASE.  It is charming of you to say so, and I am very proud to be your guest, but I beg you to allow me to pay for this delightful cheese.

SUSAN.  No, no.  I couldn’t hear of it.

GERVASE.  I warn you that if you will not allow me to pay for this delightful cheese, I shall insist on buying all your boot-laces.  Nay, more, I shall buy all your studs, and all your buttons.  Your profession would then be gone.

SUSAN.  Well, well, shall we say tuppence?

GERVASE.  Tuppence for a banquet like this?  My dear friend, nothing less than half-a-crown will satisfy me.

SUSAN.  Sixpence.  Not a penny more.

GERVASE (with a sigh).  Very well, then. (He begins to feel in his pocket, and in so doing reveals part of his dress.  SUSAN opens his eyes at it, and then goes on eating.  GERVASE finds his purse and produces sixpence, which he gives to SUSAN.) Sir, I thank you. (He resumes his breakfast.)

SUSAN.  You are too generous. . . .  Forgive me for asking, but you are not by chance a fellow-traveller upon the road?

GERVASE.  Do you mean professionally?

SUSAN.  Yes.  There is a young fellow, a contortionist and sword-swallower, known locally in these parts as Humphrey the Human Hiatus, who travels from village to village.  Just for a moment I wondered—­

(He glances at GERVASE’s legs, which are uncovered.  GERVASE hastily wraps his coat round them.)

GERVASE.  I am not Humphrey.  No.  Gervase the Cheese Swallower. . . .  Er—­my costume—­