GOODY RICKBY Trust me, mistress. [Courtesying.] Squire Talbot! the honour, sir!
RICHARD [Bluntly, looking from one to the other.] What article?
[Rachel ignores the question and starts to pass out. Richard frowns at Goody Rickby, who stammers.]
GOODY RICKBY Begging your pardon, sir?
RICHARD What article? I said. [After a short, embarrassed pause: more sternly.] Well?
GOODY RICKBY Oh, the article! Yonder old glass, to be sure, sir. A quaint piece, your honour.
RICHARD Rachel, you haven’t come here at sunrise to buy—that thing?
RACHEL Verily, “that thing” and at sunrise. A pretty time for a pretty purchase. Are you coming?
RICHARD [In a low voice.] More witchcraft nonsense? Do you realize this is serious?
RACHEL Oh, of course. You know I am desperately mystical, so pray let us not discuss it. Good-by.