The Squire - LightNovelsOnl.com
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{Dormer.} _(raising his finger)_ The higher the key, Madam, the nearer Heaven! _(pa.s.ses behind table to L., of it. Chris, laughs)_
{Kate.} Hush, Christie, come here. _(Chris, comes to Kate c.)_ Fill a basket with everything that is tempting, fit for an invalid, _(gives key to Christie)_
{Chris.} _(to Dor.)_ For the lady at the White Lion, parson?
{Dormer.} _(sitting L., of table)_ I'm not here to feed woman's curiosity.
{Kate.} Run along, Christie.
_(Christie runs up the steps into the house R., C.
Kate crosses softly over to Dor. and stands by table, R., of it.)_
_(quietly)_ It is not often, Parson Dormer, that you stoop to ask help of a woman, by all accounts.
{Dormer.} _(without looking at her)_ No!
{Kate.} Don't think me rude--but in Market-Sinfield the folks call you the Woman-Hater.
{Dormer.} What else do they call me in Market-Sinfield?
{Kate.} I--I--don't know.
{Dormer.} That's not true.
{Kate.} That's not polite.
{Dormer.} What else do they call me in Market-Sinfield?
{Kate.} _(firing up)_ They call you the Mad Parson!
{Dormer.} Ah! The Woman-Hater and the Mad Parson--contradictory terms, _(moves stool to back of table and sits)_
{Kate.} You're not mad, Mr. Dormer--but you are rude.
{Dormer.} How long will that woman take to pack the basket?
{Kate.} Are you a woman-hater, Mr. Dormer?
{Dormer.} I'm not a woman-lover.
{Kate.} _(leaning her arms on table, and looking at Dor. timidly)_ Have you always been a woman-hater, parson?
_(Dormer looks up quickly and turns away.)_
{Dormer.} _(roughly)_ How long will that woman take to pack that basket?
{Kate.} Not very long, _(the Parson's arm is on the table; Kate places her hand on his sleeve--very gently)_ You--you--haven't always been a woman- hater, parson--have you?
{Dormer.} _(drooping his head)_ No.
{Kate.} Thank you, parson. Was she--pretty?
{Dormer.} I suppose she was.
{Kate.} She must have been. Was she--good?
_(no answer)_ We've never had a chat together, till now. Was she good?
{Dormer.} No.
{Kate.} _(in a whisper)_ Oh! _(rises and lays her hand on Dor's shoulder, gently)_ I'm so sorry. And now they tell me you've no woman-folk at the Rectory.
{Dormer.} No.
{Kate.} Only awkward, clumsy men.
{Dormer.} Two honest men.
{Kate.} _(looking at his shoulder)_ That's why your sleeve is coming away from your coat at the shoulder for want of a few st.i.tches. Shall I mend it for you?
{Dormer.} When will that woman bring the basket?
_(rises and crosses to c.)_
{Kate.} _(pointing to table R.)_ There's a needle and thread, and a thimble on my table. Take off your coat and I'll sew till the basket comes. Please.
_(With a sigh of despair he lets her take off his coat, she standing behind him.)_
{Dormer.} That's the worst of women. I should never have known the coat was torn.
_(Kate takes the coat over to R., and sits on garden seat mending coat Dormer stands with his hands in his pockets.)_
{Kate.} _(seated r)_. Would you rather go indoors, parson?
{Dormer.} No. I'd rather stay where I am.
{Kate.} Please to walk up and down, then, to avoid catching cold. _(Dormer sits obstinately at table; as he does so, the contents of one of his coat pockets drop at Kate's feet)_ Oh, dear, something has fallen out of the pocket.
{Dormer.} _(rising quickly)_ What is it?
_(Kate picks up a clay pipe much blackened.)_
{Kate.} A clay pipe--dirty one.
{Dormer.} _(hurrying over to C.)_ Is it broken?
{Kate.} _(handing it to him)_ Not a chip, _(picking up a tobacco pouch which has also dropped)_ Would you care to smoke?
{Dormer.} _(returning to table)_ No, thank you, ma'am.
