DEX. (Who is sitting at table L.c. having wine.) No, my dear boy—oh, no.
ALLEN. Oh, because the writing seems a bit shaky like, and the letter so funny—thought maybe she wur a bit queer.
DEX. (Confused.) Oh—ah—yes. She was a little queer—very shaky indeed—and she seemed very much worried, too, she wouldn’t tell me what about. She tries to keep all her trouble away from her old father, dear child. (Enter Clara unseen by either.) Ah, I know how anxiously she’s waiting for me now. “Come back soon, dear, dear papa,” she said—“and bring it with you.” (Crying r.c.)
(Allen having put the cheque in an envelope rises and crosses and holds it to Dex. Clara steps forward and takes it.)
CLARA. Thank you! (c. of the two men.)
ALLEN. Miss Dexter!
DEX. Clara!
CLARA. This letter is addressed to me, I believe. (Opens it and takes out cheque, which she returns to Allen.) It’s very kind of you, Mr. Rollitt, but I do not require it.
ALLEN. (r.) Didn’t thee write for it? (Showing letter to her.) Isn’t this thy letter?
CLARA. (Looking at it.) It is the first time I have seen it. It has the appearance of having been written by someone who was drunk over night—possibly my father—imitating other people’s handwriting is one of the few things at which he has attained eminence. (Looks at Dex.)