Tom. Don't want to. [Chuckles.] He sounded rather surprised. I guess they won't know what to make of it. It'll be such fun! [Sits astride chair again.] Here comes somebody else. I won't look around. [Puts his head down on his arms. Enter Dot.]
Dot. Tom!
Tom. What do you want?
Dot [timidly]. What's the matter, Tom?
Tom. Ain't nothing the matter.
Dot [aside]. Oh, dear! Tom, do you want me to wrap up the knife for you?
Tom. Can if you want to. Here. [Takes it from his pocket and hands it to her without looking up.]
Dot [aside]. What can be the matter? We can't any of us be happy if Tom isn't. [Exit, putting her handkerchief to her eyes.]
Tom [looking after her]. 'Tisn't so much fun as I thought. [Puts his head down. Enter Sarah.]
Sarah [hands on hips, looking at Tom]. Well, what 'ud be the trouble here? [Goes about, putting things to rights. Dusts chair, giving Tom a brush.]