LATIMER (passing his cup). To which I answer, “A little more milk.” Do you realise that this goes on for fifty years?
ANNE. Well, and why not?
LATIMER. Fifty years. A solemn thought. But do not let it mar our pleasure in the meal that we are [131]having together now. Let us continue to talk gaily together. Tell me of any interesting dream you may have had last night—any little adventure that befell you in the bath—any bright thought that occurred to you as you were dressing.
ANNE (thoughtfully). I had a very odd dream last night.
LATIMER. I am longing to hear it, my love.
ANNE. I dreamt that you and I were running away together, Leonard, and that we lost our way and came to what we thought was an hotel. But it was not an hotel. It was a very mysterious house, kept by a very mysterious man called Mr. Latimer.
LATIMER. How very odd. Latimer? Latimer? No, I don’t seem to have heard of the fellow.
ANNE. He told us that we were his prisoners. That we must stay in his house a week before we went on our way again. That all the doors were locked, and there were high walls round the garden, that the gates from the garden were locked, so that we could not escape, and that we must wait a week together in his house to see if we were really suited to each other.
LATIMER. My dear, what an extraordinary dream!
ANNE. It was only a dream, wasn’t it?