Car. Tell you what?
Lucy. Tell me—about—your life.
Car. My life! No. It's waste of time to discuss failures.
Lucy. You are a riddle—because you are—pardon me—a lady.
Car. Well?
Lucy. And yet—yet—(looking away) Who are you? What are you?
Car. The Vicar's cook. (their eyes meet) You will do me a favor, Miss Pillenger, if you will leave it at that.
Lucy. Oh, certainly! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be inquisitive.
(Church clock chimes the half-hour.)
Car. I'm sure you didn't.