Lucy. Cook! (surprised)
Car. It would be all right if you weren't engaged to another man.
Lucy. But Jack isn't in love with me! (rises)
Car. You think not?
Lucy. He likes me, and he wouldn't admit to anybody—certainly not to himself—that I wasn't all the world to him, and a bit over; but in the way of real love he doesn't care a rap for me. He doesn't care—a sprig of parsley! (they look at each other, Cook smiles, and then Lucy takes it up)
Car. Ah! that makes a difference. (slight pause) Well, I must see to the mayonnaise. (she turns and goes up to the seat under the kitchen window, she begins to break eggs into the basin. Lucy goes up to porch and sits on it, leaning her head against the pillar)
Lucy. Do you know, I think you've been trying to be very kind to me?
Car. Not at all.
Lucy. I was wondering—if you would tell me a little—about yourself.