Clara. Then think of these words as you sit at table. Eat as though you were not hungry and drink as though there were no such thing as thirst. Let your hands move about your plate as if they were too tired to lift the knife and fork.
[Joan, darts to the dresser—seizes up a plate with a knife and fork, places them on the table and sits down before them, pretending to cut up meat. Clara watches her smilingly.
Joan. [Absently, raising the knife to her mouth.] How’s that, mistress?
Clara. Not so, not so, Joan. That might betray you.
Joan. What, mistress?
Clara. ’Tis the fork which journeys to the mouth, and the knife stops at home on the plate.
Joan. [Dispiritedly.] ’Tis almost more than I did reckon for when I started.
Clara. Well, we mustn’t think of that now. We must hold up our spirits, you and I.
Joan. [Getting up and putting away the crockery.] I’d best take off the bonnet and the cloak, mistress, hadn’t I?
Clara. Yes, that you had. We will go upstairs together and I will help you change into another gown. Come quickly so that we may have plenty of time.