ADAM CHERRY.
Tut, tut, my dear. I'm pleasing myself, that's all. And now you'd like me to run away, I know, so that you can think it all over by yourself. I can't tell you, my dear, how very happy you've made me. I—I never felt like this before, and I don't know what to say. I can feel it, but I can't tell it to you. May I——? (She involuntarily shrinks away.) Ah, not yet, dear—not till you've learnt to love me a little more, eh? (Kisses her hand.) Good-bye for a little while, my dear. (He goes out.)
NELLY MORRIS.
(Left alone, she stands for awhile where he has left her, then, slouly crossing to fire, she takes from round her neck a locket, and, opening it, takes out a small picture and looks at it.) Poor Jack! Poor me!
(She tears the miniature in two and lets the pieces fall into the fire. Ted's voice is faintly heard, and Jack's in answer to it. Nelly goes out L., closing door behind her and taking her work-box off table with her. There is a moment's pause, and then door at back opens and Ted enters, followed by Jack. They are both young fellows of three or four and twenty. Both are poorly dressed, Ted is ill and worn looking, but gay and boyish in his manner; Jack is an older and graver man. Both men are smoking pipes.)
TED MORRIS.
Come in, old man. (Calling.) Are you in, Nelly?
NELLY MORRIS.
(Calling from the inner room.) Yes, I'll be out in a minute, dear.