FRANCIS: You wear your dress with more ease than I wear this monkey suit.

BETSHEB: I look fer thee, dawnytime, day fer day.

WILLIAM: ‘I looked for you every morning, day after day.’

BETSHEB: I nowt more a-feared.

WILLIAM: ‘I’m not afraid anymore.’

FRANCIS: [to WILLIAM] I know.

A broad smile crosses BETSHEB’s face as she remembers something.

BETSHEB: I see car…

WILLIAM translates, proud of his skill and also realising that when BETSHEB gets excited she is hard to understand.

WILLIAM: ‘I was in a car.’

BETSHEB: Windwhistlin’.

WILLIAM: ‘It went quickly.’

BETSHEB: ’Ome, country groan ’n’ moan ’n’ run.

WILLIAM: ‘Factories and houses make noises and the landscape from the car makes it look like it’s running.’

BETSHEB: Voice in a stick.

WILLIAM: ‘Telephone.’ She loves hearing people speak on the telephone.

BETSHEB: I laugh. Let go. [She demonstrates listening on the telephone.] Demon or ’eaven?

WILLIAM: ‘The voices, are they from heaven or hell?’

STEF pounces on GEORGE and starts to chew his ankle, growling.

Pay no attention.

GEORGE: [thin-lipped] I’ll try.

ELIZABETH: Shall we sit? Francis, you escort Betsheb.

GEORGE pretends not to notice as STEF clings by his teeth to GEORGE’s trousers. He makes his awkward way to the table. BETSHEB is highly excited at meeting FRANCIS again. WILLIAM pulls STEF free of GEORGE’s trousers.

GEORGE: Much appreciated, Doctor Archer.

WILLIAM sits STEF at the table. BETSHEB suddenly cries out like a magpie. Everyone looks at her. Now that she has their attention she decides to show off. She remembers how FRANCIS enjoyed her performance down by the river, so she steps away and begins to promenade like a grande dame.

BETSHEB: Rack ’n’ cat, rack ’n’ cat, rack ’n’ cat…

She turns around for her return walk. FRANCIS realises what will come next.

FRANCIS: [horrified] Betsheb!

But BETSHEB doesn’t hear him. She farts loudly, much to AYRE’s amusement, and pretends discreetly to wave the smell away. She notices that no-one else is laughing. She is suddenly worried.

ELIZABETH: [to WILLIAM] You couldn’t get anything more Australian than that! [To BETSHEB] Bravo, Betsheb! [Applauding] Bravo!

The others applaud. BETSHEB is pleased. STEF is fascinated by the candles, especially the one near him. He blows it out.

[To WILLIAM] The matches.

GEORGE: Allow me, Mrs Archer.

GEORGE takes out his matches and relights the candle. STEF blows it out again: he enjoys this game.

ELIZABETH: I think, Mr Ross, that shifting the candle might save an enormous match bill.

GEORGE: I think you may be right, Mrs Archer.

GEORGE shifts the candle. STEF is very annoyed and lunges across the table at it, scattering plates and glasses everywhere. He grabs the candle and sinks back in his chair, holding it inches from his face. He stares at its flame as if mesmerised by it. GEORGE goes to take the candle from him but the boy growls at him.