ADA. He’s coming, I think. Mother’s sent him three telegrams.
SHEILA. What good is it now with the child dead and buried?
ADA. He’s dreadful, isn’t he?
SHEILA. I want to do something for that girl. I want to be different to her. I’m frightened, Ada. I’m frightened of having a child.
ADA. What’s she got to do with it?
SHEILA. You must have your conscience clear when you’re going to have a child.
ADA. I daresay—only—
SHEILA. We’ve not been very nice to her, now, have we?
ADA. Well, how could we be?
SHEILA. Yes, we couldn’t be expected to receive her with open arms, could we?