_Avonia._
How did he manage it all? [_Tom taps his breast proudly._] But isn't
Rose to be told? why shouldn't she be told?
_Tom._
She has hurt the boy, stung him to the quick, and he's proud.
_Avonia._
But she loves him now that she believes he has forgotten her. She only
half loved him before. She loves him!
_Tom._
Serve her right.
_Avonia._
Oh, Tom, is she never to know?
_Tom._
[_Folding the letter carefully._] Some day, when he begins to make
strides.
_Avonia._
Strides! he's nothing but General Utility at present?
_Tom._
[_Putting the letter in his pocket._] No.
_Avonia._
And how long have you been that?
_Tom._
Ten years.
_Avonia._
[_With a little screech._] Ah--h--h! she ought to be told!
_Tom._
[_Seizing her wrist._] Woman, you won't----!
_Avonia._
[_Raising her disengaged hand._] By all my hopes of hitting 'em----!
_Tom._
All right, I believe you. [_Listening._] Sssh!
[_They rise and separate, he moving to the fire, she to the right,
as Rose enters. Rose is now a grave, dignified, somewhat dreamy young
woman._]
_Rose._
[_Looking from Tom to Avonia._] Ah----?
_Tom. and Avonia._
Good-morning.
_Rose._
[_Kissing Avonia._] Visitors!
_Avonia._.
My fire's so black [_showing her irons_]; I thought you wouldn't
mind----
_Rose._
[_Removing her gloves._] Of course not. [_Seeing the table-cover._]
Oh----!
_Tom._
Mrs. Mossop. asked me to bring that upstairs. It was in the Telfers'
room, you know, and she fancied-----
_Rose._
How good of her! thanks, Tom. [_Taking off her hat and mantle._] Poor
Mr. and Mrs. Telfer! they still wander mournfully about the "Wells";
they can get nothing to do.
[_Carrying her hat and umbrella, she disappears through the curtains._]
_Tom._
[_To Avonia, in a whisper, across the room._] The Telfers----!
_Avonia._
Eh?
_Tom._
She's been giving 'em money.
_Avonia._
Yes.
_Tom._
Damn!
_Rose._
[_Reappearing._] What are yous saying about me.
_Avonia._
I was wondering whether you'd lend me that belt you bought for Ophelia;
to wear during the first two or three weeks of the pantomime---
_Rose._