MARION. Oh, yes, I see, dear. (She gets to work.)
WILLIAM. He will like to know who have remembered him. I fancy that we have done even better than we did on the eightieth birthday, and of course the day is not yet over. (He walks about the room importantly, weighing great matters in his mind. This is his day.)
MARION. Yes, dear.
WILLIAM (frowning anxiously). What did we do last year about drinking the health? Was it in here, or did we go to his room?
MARION. He was down to lunch last year. Don’t you remember, dear?
WILLIAM. Ah, yes, of course. Stupid of me. Yes, this last year has made a great difference to him. He is breaking up, I fear. We cannot keep him with us for many more birthdays.
[198]MARION. Don’t say that, dear.
WILLIAM. Well, we can but do our best.
MARION. What would you like to do, dear, about the health?
WILLIAM. H’m. Let me think. (He thinks.)