Joan. I could go through with it better perhaps, if I didn’t feel so terrible faint and sinking.
Luke. [Going to the back kitchen door.] Here, Maggie, stir yourself up a bit. The lady is near fainting, I do count.
Jessie. [Runs in with a tray on which is a jug of water and a glass.] I’m bringing the drink for Aunt, Mr. Jenner. Maggie’s crying ever so badly, and Mother’s sent her upstairs to wash her face and put her hair tidy.
[Jessie puts the tray on the table near to where Joan is sitting. Miles Hoofer busies himself in pouring out a glass of water and in handing it with a great deal of exaggerated deference to Joan.
Joan. [Drinking.] Such a coarse glass!
Miles. Ah, you must let me send you up one from my place during your stay here. Who could expect a lady to drink from such a thing as that?
Joan. [Laying aside the glass.] There’s a taste of mould in the water too.
Jessie. It’s fresh. Mother drawed it up from the well, she did.
Joan. [Looking disdainfully round on the room.] Such a strange room. So very common.
Luke. Nay, you mustn’t judge of the house by this. Don’t you recollect the parlour yonder, with the stuffed birds and the chiney cupboard?