ALLEN. Me! No, I haven’t said anything.
DEB. Most extraordinary that she doesn’t propose. Have you given her any encouragement? (Leans against settle R.)
ALLEN. Noa—I can’t say as I have, much. (Goes r.c.) I’ve looked at her, you know—soft like—and sighed. (Does so.) But her’s mostly been looking t’other way and an’t seen it, and as for saying anything to her—well, I can talk to her all right about other things and joke and laugh wi’ her, but the moment I goes to say I love her—it—it seems as if I’d got a hot potato stuck in my throat. (Speaking as if she had, turns away to l. corner of r.table, back to Deborah. His manner throughout this scene carries out the idea that it is Deborah he is in love with.)
DEB. (After a pause, with a coquettish smile to herself.)
I—I can’t do anything to help thee, I suppose? (Goes and leans against settle R.)
ALLEN. Do thee think as her could care for a mere common farmer, Deborah?
DEB. (Turning and looking at him earnestly—comes to front of table R.) Well—I think if he were a good farmer, and pleaded very hard, I—
ALLEN. (Delighted.) No, lass! Do ’ee really think a girl could? (Advancing to her.)
DEB. (Putting her hand to stop him with dignity.) A girl might—though, of course, a superior sort of girl, such as she appears to be, might think it presumption for—(turns away r.puts hand on corner of table R.)
ALLEN. (Depressed.) Yes—I’m afraid her would. (Turns away l.)