26
MRS. HOLROYD
[ACT I
Clara (briskly)
- Oh, dear, you ’re very short, all of a sudden. Don’t answer if it hurts you.
Laura
- My, is n’t he different?
Holroyd (laughing forcedly)
- I ’m no different.
Clara
- Yes, you are. You should n’t ’ave brought us if you was going to turn funny over it.
Holroyd
- I ’m not funny.
Clara
- No, you ’re not. (She begins to laugh. Laura joins in in spite of herself) You ’re about as solemn as a roast potato. (She flings up her hands, claps them down on her knees, and sways up and down as she laughs, Laura joining in, hand on breast) Are you ready to be mashed? (She goes off again—then suddenly wipes the laughter off her mouth and is solemn) But look ’ere, this ’ll never do. Now I ’m going to be quiet. (She prims herself)
Holroyd
- Tha ’d ’appen better.
Clara
- Oh, indeed! You think I ’ve got to pull a mug to look decent? You ’d have to pull a big un, at that rate.
- [She bubbles off, uncontrollably—shaking herself in exasperation meanwhile. Laura joins in. Holroyd leans over close to her.
Holroyd
- Tha ’s got plenty o’ fizz in thee, seemly.
