Locheen——!
Theophila.
Wait! you haven’t heard. [She changes her position, sitting beside him; he not responsive, almost shrinking from her.] Alec—Alec dear—[leaning her head against his shoulder]—I intend to be good in the future, so very good.
Fraser.
What do you mean—good?
Theophila.
I intend to get on well with you, wherever we may be—I will get on well with you. I’ve been babyish and silly all my life; I’m seven-and-twenty; I’m an old woman; I’ve sown my wild oats now.
Fraser.
Wild oats?
Theophila.