Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear man, when you speak to me. (satirically) Has poor little hubby cold feet waiting so long?


(shifts from foot to foot) No, no. Not the least little bit.

(He breathes in deep agitation, swallowing gulps of air, questions, hopes, crubeens for her supper, things to tell her, excuse, desire, spellbound. A coin gleams on her forehead. On her feet are jewelled toerings. Her ankles are linked by a slender fetterchain."