NICHOLAS (putting his arms round her). Darling! Don’t! (She goes on sobbing.) There! There! I’m sorry. Nicholas is sorry. I oughtn’t to have said it.
Forgive me, darling.
EUSTASIA (between sobs). It’s only because I love you so much, and w-want you to be well. And you m-must eat.
NICHOLAS. Yes, yes, Eustasia, I know. It is dear of you.
EUSTASIA. Ask any d-doctor. He would say you m-must eat.
NICHOLAS. Yes, darling.
EUSTASIA. You m-must eat.
NICHOLAS (resignedly). Yes, darling.
EUSTASIA (sitting up and wiping her eyes). What’s a wife for, if it isn’t to look after her husband when he’s ill, and to see that he eats?
NICHOLAS. All right, dear, we won’t say anything more about it.