ROLF. Jill! Jill!
JILL. [Putting her hands behind her back, hums]—
"If auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne"——
ROLF. Don't!
[With a pained gesture he goes out towards Left, through the
French window.]
[JILL, who has broken off the song, stands with her hands
clenched and her lips quivering.]
[FELLOWS enters Left.]
FELLOWS. Mr. Dawker, Miss, and two gentlemen.
JILL. Let the three gentlemen in, and me out.
[She passes him and goes out Left. And immediately. DAWKER
and the two STRANGERS come in.]
FELLOWS. I'll inform Mrs. Hillcrist, sir. The Squire is on his rounds. [He goes out Left.]