LAURA (sitting down in a chair on right, her hand on her bosom, panting) I've laughed till I feel fair bad.
CLARA
'Aven't you got a drop of nothink to offer us, mester? Come, you are slow. I should 'ave thought a gentleman like you would have been out with the glasses afore we could have got breaths to ask you.
HOLROYD (clumsily)
I dunna believe there's owt in th' 'ouse but a bottle of stout.
CLARA (putting her hand on her stomach)
It feels as if th' kettle's going to boil over.
[She stuffs her handkerchief in front of her mouth, throws back her head, and snorts with laughter, having now regained her confidence. Laura laughs in the last state of exhaustion, her hand on her breast.
HOLROYD
Shall ta ha'e it then?