ANNE. You were groaning so. I thought—I didn’t know what had happened.... (Sympathetically) Is it very bad?
LATIMER. Not so bad as it sounded.
ANNE (taking off her gloves). I know how bad it can be. Father has it sometimes. Then I have to send it away. (She has her gloves off now) May I try?
LATIMER (remorsefully). Anne!
[174](She leans over from the back of him and begins to stroke his forehead with the tips of her fingers. He looks up at her.)
ANNE. Close your eyes.
LATIMER. Ah, but I don’t want to now.
(She laughs without embarrassment.)
ANNE. It will go soon.
LATIMER. Not too soon....