Betty (scornfully). Ah, do you not? Who, pray, has been drinking tea daily while pretending to deny herself? I beheld you with my own eyes take your little teapot from the locked cupboard! ’Twould make a pretty story did I tell it. And I warn you, if you do not grant your permission to William and me, I will publish the secret tea-drinking. The town shall ring with it!
Enter Mandy.
Mandy. Can’t fin’ no gol’ beads, missy, nowhere.
Miss B. Stupid! Did you search under the window?
Mandy. Poor ol’ Mandy crawl all ober de groun’. No beads dere.
Miss B. (suspiciously). Methinks you may admire those beads. Unroll your turban.
Mandy. ’Fore de Lawd, missy, don’ ’spicion Mandy o’ dem beads. I isn’t got dem.
(Miss B. looks in Mandy’s turban. She takes out strange things including a clay pipe. She also searches Mandy’s pockets and her dress hem. No beads. Miss B. is angry.)
Miss B. If you have thieved those beads, naught can save you from the whipping-post, hussy. I will search the garden myself. [Exit.
Betty (confidentially). Come, Mandy. Tell me where my beads—tell me where my beads are.