HANNAH.
No, no--Listen! I was well fed and kept seven years at the Deanery--I"ve been wed to Noah Topping eight weeks--that"s six years and ten months" lovin" duty doo to you and yours before I owe nothing to my darling Noah. Master dear, you shan"t be took to Durnstone!
THE DEAN.
Silence! Hannah Topping, formerly Evans, it is my duty to inform you that your reasoning does more credit to your heart than to your head.
HANNAH.
I can"t help that. The Devil"s always in a woman"s heart because it"s the warmest place to get to! [_Taking a small key from the table drawer._] Here, take that! [_Pushing the key into the pocket of his coat._] When you once get free from my darling Noah that key unlocks your handcuffs!
THE DEAN.
Handcuffs!
HANNAH.
How are you to get free, that"s the question now, isn"t it? I"ll tell you. My Noah drives you over to Durnstone with old Nick in the cart.
THE DEAN.
Old Nick!
HANNAH.
That"s the horse. Now Nick was formerly in the Durnstone Fire Brigade, and when he "ears the familiar signal of a double whistle you can"t hold him in. There"s the whistle. [_Putting it into THE DEAN"S pocket._] Directly you turn into Pear Tree Lane, blow once and you"ll see Noah with his nose in the air, pullin" fit to wrench his "ands off. Jump out--roll clear of the wheel--keep cool and "opeful and blow again. Before you can get the mud out of your eyes Noah and the horse and cart will be well into Durnstone, and may Providence restore a young "usband safe to his doatin" wife!
THE DEAN.
Hannah! How dare you! [_Recoiling horror-stricken._
HANNAH.
[_Crying._] Oh--ooh--ooh!
THE DEAN.
Is this the fruit of your seven years" constant cookery at the Deanery?
HANNAH.
Oh dear! I wouldn"t have done it, only this is your first offence!
THE DEAN.
My first offence, oh!
HANNAH.
You"re not too old; I want to give you another start in life!
THE DEAN.
Another start! Woman, do you think I"ve no conscience? Do you think I don"t realize the enormity of the--of the difficulties in alighting from a vehicle in rapid motion?
HANNAH.
[_Opening the oven and taking out a small joint in a baking tin, which she places on the table._] It"s "unger what makes you feel conscientious!
THE DEAN.
[_Waving her away._] I have done with you!
HANNAH.
With me, sir--but not with the joint! You"ll feel wickeder when you"ve had a little nourishment. [_He looks hungrily at the dish._] That"s right, Dean, dear--taste my darling Noah"s favorite dish.
THE DEAN.
[_Advancing towards the table._] Oh, Hannah Topping--Hannah Topping!
[_Clutching the carving-knife despairingly._] I"ll have no more women cooks at the Deanery! This reads me a lesson.
[_Sitting and carving with desperation._
HANNAH.
Don"t stint yourself, sir. You can"t blow that whistle on an empty frame. [_THE DEAN begins to eat._] Don"t my cooking carry you back, sir? Oh, say it do!
THE DEAN.
Ah, if every mouthful would carry me back one little hour I would finish this joint!
[_NOAH TOPPING, unperceived by HANNAH and THE DEAN, climbs in by the window, his eyes bolting with rage--he glares round the room, taking in everything at a glance._
NOAH.
[_Under his breath._] My man o" mystery--a waited on by my nooly made wife--a heating o" my favorite meal.
[_Touching HANNAH on the arm, she turns and faces him, speechless with fright._
THE DEAN.
[_Still eating._] If my mind were calmer this would be an all-sufficient repast. [_HANNAH tries to speak, then clasps her hands and sinks on her knees to NOAH._] Hannah, a little plain cold water in a simple tumbler, please.
NOAH.
[_Grimly--folding his arms._] "Annah, hintrodooce me. [_HANNAH gives a cry and clings to NOAH"S legs._
THE DEAN.