... (_Breaks off_.) I say, when's
the last train up to London? Can you tell me?
Bessie (_Gazes at him steadily_). What for? You've no money.
Harry. That's just it. (_Leans back against post again_.) Hard luck.
(_Insinuating_.) But there was never a time in all my travels that a
woman of the right sort did not turn up to help me out of a fix. I don't
know why. It's perhaps because they know without telling that I love
them all. (_Playful_.) I've almost fallen in love with you, Miss Bessie.
Bessie (_Unsteady laugh_). Why! How you talk! You haven't even seen my
face properly. (_One step towards H., as if compelled._)
Harry (_Bending forward gallantly_). A little pale. It suits some.
(_Puts out his hand, catches hold of B.'s arm. Draws her to him_.) Let's
see.... Yes, it suits you. (_It's a moment before B. puts up her hands,
palms out, and turns away her head_.)
Bessie (_Whispering_). Don't. (_Struggles a little. Released, stands
averted_.)
Harry. No offence. (_Stands, back to audience, looking at H.'s
cottage_.)
Bessie (_Alone in front; faces audience; whispers_). My voice--my
figure--my heart--my face....
(_A silence. B. 's face gradually lights up. Directly H. speaks,
expression of hopeful attention_.)
Harry (_From railings_). The old man seems to have gone to sleep waiting
for that to-morrow of his.
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