Yardsley (aside). Heigho! My goose is cooked.
Barlow. I fancy you wish you had taken that walk I suggested now.
Yardsley. You always were a good deal of a fancier.
Jennie. I hardly knows how to begin, Miss Dorothy. I—I’m so flabbergasted by all that’s happened this afternoon, mum, that I can’t get my thoughts straight, mum.
Dorothy. Never mind getting your thoughts straight, Jennie. I do not want fiction. I want the truth.
Jennie. Well, mum, when a fine gentleman like Mr. Yardsley asks—
Yardsley. I tell you it isn’t so.
Jennie. Indeed he did, mum.
Dorothy (impatiently). Did what?
Jennie. Axed me to marry him, mum.