Deb. (_Beginning softly to creep toward him._) How should I when thee’s never told me? What be her name? (_Close to him, his back is still towards her and he doesn’t see her._) Eh? Allen. (_Without turning, looking out of the back window up R.c._) Clara. (_Music cue._) (_Bus. Deb. stands still--for the first moment she hardly comprehends. Then she understands, and stands staring straight before her with a wild scared look--shivers, crosses back to fireplace on tip-toe and bends down over it attending to the fish--after Deb. sobs Allen comes down c.--music dies away._) Allen. (_Half turning round._) Colonel Dexter’s daughter, you know. Thee’ve seen her. Her wur at the Barnstaple ball and I danced wi’ her and thee said how beautiful her wur and that her dress was all made o’ some’at or other, and you--(_he has gradually come close over to her r._) What be the matter, Deb? Deb. (_In a changed, hard tone, bending more intently than ever over her cooking._) Nothing--Nothing. Allen. (_Taking her hand._) Why, thee be quite cold, lass; be thee ill? Deb. (_Snatching her hand away._) No, no, there’s nothing the matter with me. Don’t be so foolish, don’t don’t. Allen. (_Surprised._) I say, Deb, have I said anything I oughtn’t to? I know I’m allus a-doing it. (_A pause--Allen stands looking at her, troubled and bewildered--Deb. bends closer over the fire--then takes the pan off the fire and with it in her hand turns to Allen smiling._) Deb. (_Gives dish to Allen._) Yes, thee have--talking to a cook at the very moment the trout is on the turn. (_Puts trout on dish._) Serve thee right if I’d spoilt it. Allen. Lor’, thee quite frightened me! (_Pauses._) Yes--I went up there this afternoon. (_Deb. takes dish from Allen, puts it down in front of fireplace._) Deb. (_Arranging fish._) Did you see her? Allen. Yes, I saw her. Deb. It doesn’t seem to have made thee any more cheerful. Did thee quarrel. Allen. Us never got a chance. There wur a cousin or summat of the kind hanging about all the time--just come over with some chap from America. Can’t say as I like un much. Deb. Thee’d best summon up thy courage and speak quick or thee may lose thy turn. (_Allen turns away L._) Go and tell aunt supper’s ready--be quick, it’s all spoiling. Allen. (_Moving quickly towards door l. down stage._) Where shall I find her? Deb. (_Sharply._) How should I know? Allen. (_Looks around surprised--sotto voce._) How the fire do draw out a woman’s temper, to be sure. (_Exit Allen l., down stage._)