Rachel (Twisting her hands): Oh, John! I’m so sorry, Ma dear told you that. She didn’t know, you sent them.
Strong: So I gathered. (Pauses and then leans forward; quietly). Rachel, little girl, why—did you kill them?
Rachel (Breathing quickly): Don’t you believe—it—a—a—kindness—sometimes—to kill?
Strong (After a pause): You—considered—it—a—kindness—to kill them?
Rachel: Yes. (Another pause).
Strong: Do you mean—just—the roses?
Rachel (Breathing more quickly): John!—Oh! must I say?
Strong: Yes, little Rachel.
Rachel (In a whisper): No. (There is a long pause. Rachel leans back limply, and closes her eyes. Presently Strong rises, and moves his chair very close to hers. She does not stir. He puts his cigar on the saucer).
Strong (Leaning forward; very gently): Little girl, little girl, can’t you tell me why?