Haggart drinks; he examines the room with a smile.

"Nobody. Did you see him, Khorre? He is there, behind the curtain.
Just think of it, sailor--here we are again with him alone."

"Go home, Noni!"

"Right away. Give me some gin."

He drinks.

"And they? They have gone?"

"They ran, Noni. Go home, my boy! They ran off like goats. I was
laughing so much, Noni."

Both laugh.

"Take down that toy, Khorre. Yes, yes, a little ship. He made it,
Khorre."

They examine the toy.

"Look how skilfully the jib was made, Khorre. Good boy, Philipp!
But the halyards are bad, look. No, Philipp! You never saw how real
ships are fitted out--real ships which rove over the ocean, tearing
its grey waves. Was it with this toy that you wanted to quench your
little thirst--fool?"