LUKE. No—this is Mr. Hanningford. (Turns to Mike, who stands awkward and shy l.c. looking at the ground.) Did you know him? (Laughs.)
DEB. Oh, I’m Miss Deacon—Miss Deborah Deacon. We were school-fellows, you know. (Timidly approaching Mike with outstretched hand.) I am very glad to see you Mr.—Mr. Hanningford.
MIKE. Thank you, Miss—I’m very pleased to see you.
LUKE. (Sitting r.) I suppose you hardly recognize our friend? (Watches her intently without her noticing it. Mike has turned away again, and looks down, flicking leg with cane.)
DEB. (Hesitating.) Um! (Laughs.) Well, he’s certainly altered since we used to go to school together. But yes—(examining his face)—there’s something of the old face left, I think.
LUKE. We only arrived from America last night, traveling hard all the time. Pretty nearly worked me to death. Dick has—(with a yawn)—but there, I suppose I should have hurried up pretty smart myself if I’d been coming home to a fortune.
DEB. You are staying in the village then, I suppose?
LUKE. Yes, we’ve put up at Colonel Dexter’s—my uncle’s—slow place. (Laughing.) But better than the inn apparently.
DEB. Oh. then you are the—Miss Dexter’s cousin that Allen—(pauses hesitating)—was—was speaking of?
LUKE. Oh, the young fellow that was there this afternoon—was that Allen? (With a would-be playful laugh.) And who’s Allen, eh?