Dorothy. Did you, Mr. Yardsley?
[Yardsley buries his face in his hands and groans.
Barlow. Not so ready with your explanations now, eh?
Dorothy. Mr. Barlow, really I must ask you not to interfere. Did you say that, Mr. Yardsley?
Yardsley. I did, but—
Dorothy (frigidly). Go on, Jennie.
Jennie. Just then the front-door bell rings and Mr. Barlow comes, and there wasn’t no more importunity for me to speak; but when I got down-stairs into the kitchen, mum, Mr. Hicks he comes in, an’ (sobs)—an’ I breaks with him.
Yardsley. You’ve broken with Hicks for me?
Jennie. Yes, I have—but I wouldn’t never have done it if I’d known—boo-hoo—as how you’d behave this way an’ deny ever havin’ said a word. I—I—I 1-lo-love Mr. Hicks, an’—I—I hate you—and I wish I’d let him come up and kill you, as he said he would.
Dorothy. Jennie! Jennie! be calm! Where is Hicks now?