JANE. Melisande!
(MELISANDE turns round and comes slowly towards her mother.)
MELISANDE. Did you call me, Mother?
MRS. KNOWLE. Three times, darling. Didn't you hear me?
MELISANDE. I am sorry, Mother, I was thinking of other things.
MRS. KNOWLE. You think too much, dear. You remember what the great poet tells us. "Do noble things, not dream them all day long." Tennyson, wasn't it? I know I wrote it in your album for you when you were a little girl. It's so true.
MELISANDE. Kingsley, Mother, not Tennyson.
JANE (nodding). Kingsley, that's right.
MRS. KNOWLE. Well, it's the same thing. I know when my mother used to call me I used to come running up, saying, "What is it, Mummy, darling?" And even if it was anything upstairs, like a handkerchief or a pair of socks to be mended, I used to trot off happily, saying to myself, "Do noble things, not dream them all day long."
MELISANDE. I am sorry, Mother. What is the noble thing you want doing?