WELLWYN. [Looking stealthily round.] Ah! Well, come in—just for a minute—it's very cold—and tell us what it is.
[She comes in stolidly, a Sphinx-like figure, with her pretty tragic little face.]
WELLWYN. I don't remember you. [Looking closer.] Yes, I do. Only— you weren't the same-were you?
MRS. MEGAN. [Dully.] I seen trouble since.
WELLWYN. Trouble! Have some tea?
[He looks anxiously at the door into the house, then goes quickly to the table, and pours out a glass of tea, putting rum into it.]
WELLWYN. [Handing her the tea.] Keeps the cold out! Drink it off!
[MRS. MEGAN drinks it of, chokes a little, and almost immediately seems to get a size larger. WELLWYN watches her with his head held on one side, and a smile broadening on his face.]
WELLWYN. Cure for all evils, um?
MRS. MEGAN. It warms you. [She smiles.]