[The face of The Dean re-appears.
The Dean.
[In a deep sad voice.] Hannah Evans.
Hannah.
It’s ’Annah Topping, Knee Evans, wife o’ the Constable what’s goin’ to take you to cruel Durnstone. [Sinking weeping upon the ground at the door.] Oh, Mr. Dean, sir, what have you been up to? What have you been up to? What have you been up to?
The Dean.
Woman, I am the victim of a misfortune only partially merited.
Hannah.
[On her knees, clasping her hands.] Tell me what you’ve done, Master dear; give it a name, for the love of goodness
The Dean.