Page:Dramas 3.pdf/413

Rh

Then you are no Christian woman, for that is the stain of black cherries, and my hands have been washed since I ate them.

Let us make sure of it, however. (Takes a handkerchief from her pocket and rubs one of his hands, while with the other he attempts to pull the smart bow from her cap.) Mischief to the very core of thee! Yet thou art a sweet creature too; and much pleasure may you have with your book. [Exit by an opposite door. Where can I hide myself?—Ay, that will do. (Climbs upon the back of a library chair which stands close to a bookcase, and pulls down a map from its roller to conceal himself.)

The air of this day is oppressive; I feel drowsy and tired. (Sits down in the chair.) This seat is uneasy, the upholsterer has stuffed it very badly. Let me see. (Pulls it out from the bookcase, and drops down on the floor.)—