ALLEN. (Very indignantly.) Well then, you can’t do it. I ain’t a show. What are you laughing at? There’s nothing to laugh at. (Mrs. R. laughs first time.) It’s your ignorance, because you don’t understand things. What are you laughing at?
(Mrs. R., who has hitherto sat R. looking on, now also begins to laugh, and she and Deb. go on laughing more and more, Allen growing more and more indignant.)
ALLEN. I am surprised at you, mother. Deb. allus was a—(the two women only laugh louder, and Allen in spite of himself begins to laugh too; afterwards he joins in heartily and all three laugh, after which they have another hug. Bus.)
MRS. R. (Exhausted.) Well, lad, and how dost thee like being a gentleman? (Sits r., Deb. sits l.)
ALLEN. (c. doubtfully.) Well, it’s got its drawbacks, mother. There’s more work about it than you’d think for, you know,—but I think I shall be all right, I’ve got a good man learning me. He wur teaching me to walk this morning. That wus the Park stroll I wur practicing when you come in; see, mother? (Imitates stroll.)
MRS. R. Ah, well, us made a good man of ’ee down in Devon. I hopes they don’t spoil ’ee, lad, in turning thee into a gentleman.
ALLEN. Ah, no, mother. It’s only a polishing up the outside. I’m old Exmoor oak—(puts his hat and umbrella on table r. c.)—I hope, right through, and they can’t hurt that. When did ’ee come up? (Sits r. c.)
MRS. R. Only yesterday, and us went to Mrs. Clouter’s and slept, and then us come on here this morning.
ALLEN. And how long can you stop?
MRS. R. Well, us must start off to-morrow, some time.