DEX. No thanks, not to-day.
ALLEN. What’s the matter? Off thee feed?
DEX. No, my lad, but we old folks ain’t like you young country ones—nothing at present thank you—(pauses)—to eat.
ALLEN. Have summat to drink. (Clara crosses l. Both men laugh, each in his own distinctive way. Dex. turns l. and catches Clara’s face.) There be some rare old whiskey in the library. Thee’ll find it on the sideboard—(Dex. goes up c.)—and it be more comfortable like in there than here. I’ll just go and finish making myself beautiful. (Crosses to l.)
CLARA. Don’t be too long. (Crossing and sitting L.c.)
ALLEN. (Laughing.) No, it oughtn’t to take me long to—(Dex. has his back to them, wine business at table r.c.)—do that, ought it? (Goes to l. door down stage. Laughs, and then low to Clara as he is going.) I am not likely to stop upstairs long when I know thee’s downstairs.
CLARA. Go away, go away.
(Exit Allen down stage l. Bus. She kisses her hand.)
DEX. And I suppose you will go and throw this chance away, like you have every other.
CLARA. Well, what if I do? (Rises, crosses it.)