Lucy. I’d better go upstairs, then I shan’t interrupt you.
Ned. Thank you; there’s a dear. I’m sorry to be so disagreeable, but I must finish this.
Lucy. Dinner at seven.
Ned. All right. (Exit Lucy, R.) Now I can go ahead like a steam engine. (writes) “Fool that I was, I thought that it would last for ever. Nothing can now remove the barrier between us. With my own hand I have destroyed my happiness.” That’s warm enough, I think. I’m making an infernal scoundrel of my namesake, but no matter. (reads) “With my own hand”—I wonder if that’s right. Could he have destroyed his happiness with anybody else’s hand? With my hand I have—no—he couldn’t have done it with his foot.
Re-enter Lucy, R., and down R.C.
Lucy. Ned, here’s Mr. Potter.
Enter Tom, R.
Ned. (rises) Hallo, Tom! (shakes hands)
Tom. Hard at work?