AMY, rather daunted, ‘No man? Very strange.’ Fortunately she sees the two plates. ‘Stop.’ Her eyes glisten. ‘Two persons have been dining here!’ Richardson begins to tremble. ‘Why do you look so scared? Was the other a gentleman?’
RICHARDSON. ‘Oh, ma’am.’
AMY, triumphantly, ‘It was not!’ But her triumph gives way to bewilderment, for she knows that when she left the house her mother was still in it. Then who can the visitor have been? ‘Why are you trying to hide that plate? Was it a lady? Girl, tell me was it a lady?’
RICHARDSON, at bay, ‘He—he calls her a lady.’
AMY, the omniscient, ‘But you know better!’
RICHARDSON. ‘Of course I know she ain’t a real lady.’
AMY. ‘Another woman. And not even a lady.’ She has no mercy on the witness. ‘Tell me, is this the first time she has dined here?’
RICHARDSON, fixed by Amy’s eye, ‘No, ma’am—I meant no harm, ma’am.’
AMY. ‘I am not blaming you. Can you remember how often she has dined here?’
RICHARDSON. ‘Well can I remember. Three times last week.’