We don't want anything, thanks. We've just called. (_She begins to laugh again--so does the other_) Well, I don't think much of the manners in this part of the country. (_She takes a few hesitating steps into the kitchen_) MRS. HOLROYD (_trying to shut the door upon her_) No, you are not coming in. CLARA (_preventing her closing the door_) Dear me, what a to-do! (_She struggles with the door. The other woman comes up to help; a man is seen in the background_) LAURA My word, aren't we good enough to come in? [_Mrs. Holroyd, finding herself confronted by what seems to her excitement a crowd, releases the door and draws back a little--almost in tears of anger._ MRS. HOLROYD You have no business here. What do you want? CLARA (_putting her bonnet straight and entering in brisk defiance_) I tell you we've only come to see you. (_She looks round the kitchen, then makes a gesture toward the armchair_) Can I sit here? (_She plumps herself down_) Rest for the weary. [_A woman and a man have followed her into the room. Laura is highly colored, stout, some forty years old, wears a blue paper bonnet, and looks like the landlady of a public-house. Both she and Clara wear much jewellery. Laura is well dressed in a blue cloth dress. Holroyd is a big blond man. His cap is pushed back, and he looks rather tipsy and lawless. He has a heavy blond moustache. His jacket and trousers are black, his vest gray, and he wears a turn down collar with dark bow._ LAURA (_sitting down in a chair on right, her hand on her bosom, panting_) I've laughed till I feel fair bad. CLARA 'Aven't you got a drop of nothink to offer us, mester? Come, you are slow. I should 'ave thought a gentleman like you would have been out with the glasses afore we could have got breaths to ask you. HOLROYD (_clumsily_) I dunna believe there's owt in th' 'ouse but a bottle of stout. CLARA (_putting her hand on her stomach_) It feels as if th' kettle's going to boil over. [_She stuffs her handkerchief in front of her mouth, throws back her head, and snorts with laughter, having now regained her confidence. Laura laughs in the last state of exhaustion, her hand on her breast._ HOLROYD Shall ta ha'e it then? CLARA What do you say, Laura--are you having a drop? LAURA (_submissively, and naturally tongue-tied_) Well--I don't mind--I will if _you_ do. CLARA (_recklessly_) I think we'll 'ave a drop, Charlie, an' risk it. It'll 'appen hold the rest down. [_There is a moment of silence, while Holroyd goes into the scullery. Clara surveys the room and the dramatic pose of Mrs. Holroyd curiously._ HOLROYD (_suddenly_) Heh! What, come 'ere--! [_There is a smash of pots, and a rat careers out of the scullery. Laura, the first to see it, utters a scream, but is fastened to her chair, unable to move._ CLARA (_jumps up to the table, crying_) It's a rat--Oh, save us! (_She scrambles up, banging her head on the lamp, which swings violently_)