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Rollo has achieved that durable state of
intoxication, which promotes egomaniacal lucidity. When he breaks into song, it
is a husky true-tone baritone.
Ivor has taken enough drink to fire his courage.
This introductory scene takes place in Rollo's kitchen, and
the conversation starts...
Ivor: Theories, Rollo, you're a mass of
theories, daydreams, fragmented memories, all contradictory.
Rollo's reply: Here's another big word:
Constantinople, better known as Istanbul. I was there once, swapped a pot of
currant jam for a red fez and a pair of wooden sandals. Empty yet? Try some
more plonk.
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