(Exit Rachael l. down stage.)
DEB. Yes, aunt. (r. of table and seeing to fish with back to Mrs. Rollitt.) You—you were saying how you came upon Allen the other evening, aunt, when he didn’t know you were there, and he was doing something.
MRS. R. Ah, yes, it wur Toosday, and he—not in love wi’ ’ee—(laughing)—why—(taking up stocking and looking at hole.) Ah, look at that now, blest if I can make out where the holes come from, just.
DEB. What was he doing, aunt?
MRS. R. Why there un wur wi’ your—
(Enter Purtwee c.—who coughs.)
MRS. R. (Turning, and seeing him as he stands in doorway.) What, Mr. Purtwee! (Deborah in despair goes to fire and cooks fish.) Well, ’ee do surprise me! ’Ee be quite a stranger. Come in. Thee be just in time for a bit of sup.
MR. P. (Coming down l. c., puts hat on staircase rail.) I couldn’t pass the place without looking in, I’ve just left the trap outside. (Shakes hands.) And how are we?
MRS. R. Oh, I be middlin’ well, thank ’ee, and how’s yerself?
MR. P. Oh, nicely enough, and—(To Deborah crossing r.)—how’s Miss Deborah Deacon?