MRS. R. And who be the next of kin?
MR. P. (Dryly.) Oh! there’s no need to worry about that now.
Mrs R. Well, I’d just like to know, that’s all. Would it be any of the Leeds folk?
MR. P. Oh, I really can’t say! (Gets snuff box, puts coat on settle l.) I—I can’t say at all who it would be. (Angrily, rather.) Why there’s about a hundred different relations scattered all over the country, and goodness knows who it might turn out to be. It isn’t a matter to be considered yet at all.
MRS. R. Lord bless us all, don’t put theeself out, man. I didn’t know as a body’s relations wur any secret—(pauses)—provided they be coom by honestly. Doan’t tell us if ’ee doan’t want to. (Turns away r. a little.)
MR. P. No—no, Mrs. Rollitt! I’m not put out, only you see it’s always a most complicated question a next of kin, especially in a case of this kind where the man shunned all his relations. It might be someone in Hong Kong; it might be someone here in Devonshire—(Enter Allen c. door.)—it might be,—(he is l., taking handkerchief from his overcoat pocket, and turning sees Allen in doorway and stops. Deborah puts on the fish.)
ALLEN. (Coming down r. c.) Well mother! (Kisses her.)
MRS. R. Why, my boy, wherever ha’ ye been to—I wur getting quite anxious about ’ee!
ALLEN. (Taking off his hat and coat and throwing them down at back.) Ah, I be a rare anxiety to ’ee, baint I, mother? (To Mr. Purtwee.) Mother alius fancies as I’ve been run off with by gypsies if I be out more than an hour. (Crossing and shaking hands with Mr. Purtwee.) And how be Mr. Purtwee for the second time to-day?
MR. P. (Laughing and shaking hands.) Ah! your mother’s a regular old hen with one chick I expect. (Sits l.)