DEB. (Excitedly, but quietly.) Who was he going to see up there?
MR. P. (Laughing and folding coat.) Ah! who is it he always goes to see up there?
(Deborah turns a little sick at this confirmation of her fears. Purtwee, who is a sharp old fellow, notices the expression of her face and the whole truth flashes across him. He pauses suddenly, looks hard at her, then assuming an ordinary laughing tone, continues—Mrs. Rollitt (up l.) is engaged with the linen, and does not notice this.)
MR. P. Why, the Walleys, of course. He and Jim seem to be inseparable of late.
DEB. Oh, yes, I know. I asked him to try and see if the Walleys would part with one of their short-horns.
MR. P. Ah! that was it, then—yes, I remember that was it. (Turns away and looks back at Deborah, who has resumed her cooking—aside.) Poor child! There’s trouble for her I fear. (Throws coat over chair l.)
MRS. R. (Comes c.) Well, what be going on up at Minehead?
MR. P. The same that is going on everywhere, Mrs. Rollitt—people lying and slandering and evil-speaking; everybody thieving and cheating and quarreling. (Sits on table l.)
MRS. R. Well, I guess I could have told thee that. Haven’t thee any real news to gie us. Tell us what one person’s be a-doing. Never mind “everybody,” I don’t know him.
MR. P. Well, you see, Susan, a lawyer mustn’t gossip. (Shakes finger.)