[Joan looks at him irresolutely for a moment and then precipitately leaves the room.
[Luke folds his arms on the table and rests his head on them in an attitude of deepest despondency. After a few moments Clara enters.
Clara. O, Mister Jenner, what has happened to you?
Luke. [Raising his head and pointing to the window.] There she goes, through the garden with her lover.
Clara. I wish that you were in his place.
Luke. [Bitterly.] I’ve no house with golden rails to offer her. Nor any horse and chaise.
Clara. But you carry a heart within you that is full of true love.
Luke. What use is the love which be fastened up in a man’s heart and can spend itself on naught, I’d like to know. [He rises as though to go and take up the bunch of flowers which has been lying on the table. Brokenly.] I brought them for her. But I count as he’ll have given her something better nor these.
[Clara takes the flowers gently from his hand, and as she does so, Emily enters.
Emily. What now if you please! First with George and then with Luke. ’Twould be Thomas next if he wasn’t an old sheep of a man as wouldn’t know if an eye was cast on him or no. But I’ll soon put a stop to all this. Shame on you, Luke Jenner. And you, you fine piece of London vanity, I wants my kitchen to myself, do you hear, so off with you upstairs.