F. H monologue — Seeking his fortune, and other dialogues

Well—aw—I’m sure, I don’t see what I’m going to do. I never can go out on the street—aw—wearing such wretched-looking clothes. (_Standing up suddenly and gazing upon them._) Why, they’re absolutely horwid. It’s strange—aw—how anybody could have been quick enough—aw—to change those clothes in the five minutes I was out—aw—last night at the alarm of fire. I should just like to get hold of the thief—aw—that’s all. I guess—aw—he’d never steal anything else. (_A pause. Emphatically._) I won’t wear this horwid-looking coat (_lifting it up._) What would Dick Hayes or Harwy Nichols say—aw—to see me dressed in this style! I won’t wear the shabby ole thing. (_Throws it to the other end of the room, R._) I should feel—aw—as if I was my own grandfather. And this horwid old hat. (_Takes it in his hand, and with a kick sends it after the coat._) Aw—I’ll ring for the landlord. (_Rings furiously. JOHN enters, R._)