BOBBY (relieved). Oh, well.
MELISANDE (dreamily to herself). Perhaps I shall never see him in this world—and then I shall never marry. But if he ever comes for me, he will come not like other men; and because he is so different from everybody else, then I shall know him when he comes for me. He won't talk about bread-sauce—billiards—and the money market. He won't wear a little black suit, with a little black tie—all sideways. (BOBBY hastily pulls his tie straight.) I don't know how he will be dressed, but I know this, that when I see him, that when my eyes have looked into his, when his eyes have looked into mine—
BOBBY. I say, steady!
MELISANDE (waking from her dream). Yes? (She gives a little laugh) Poor Bobby!
BOBBY (appealingly). I say, Sandy! (He goes up to her.)
(MRS. KNOWLE has seized this moment to come back for her handkerchief. She sees them together, and begins to walk out on tiptoe.)
(They hear her and turn round suddenly.)
MRS. KNOWLE (in a whisper). Don't take any notice of me. I only just came for my handkerchief. (She continues to walk on tiptoe towards the opposite door.)
MELISANDE (getting up). We were just wondering where you were, Mother. Here's your handkerchief. (She picks it up from the sofa.)
MRS. KNOWLE (still in the voice in which you speak to an invalid). Thank you, dear. Don't let me interrupt you—I was just going—