EMMA (meets SARAH right centre, examining teapot). It's beautiful. Beautiful, it is, Mrs. Ormerod.
SARAH. Aye, it's a bit o' real china is that. Tha'll tak' care on't, lass, won't thee?
EMMA. A will an' all.
SARAH. Aye. A knaw it's safe wi' thee. Mebbe safer than it would be in workus. A can't think well on yon plaice. A goa cold all ower at thowt of it.
(A knock at the door.)
EMMA. That'll be Parson.
SARAH (crosses left, smoothing her hair). Goa an' look through window first, an' see who 't is.
EMMA (puts teapot on table; looking through window). It is not th' ould Parson. It's one o' them young curate chaps.
SARAH. Well, coom away from window an' sit thee down. It won't do to seem too eager. Let un knock again if it's not th' ould Parson.
(EMMA leaves the window and goes to right of table. The knock is repeated.)