Valentine White.
Shall I run away? Ah, if she only knew how ardently I wish that she had changed still more—how I wish that she had grown quite unlovable or I had forgotten how to love her! It’s hopeless; I will run away.
[He opens the door and the Dowager peeps in.]
Dowager.
May I come in?
Valentine White.
Eh? Oh, certainly.
[The Dowager enters.]
Dowager.
[To herself.] What has become of them? [To Valentine.] Pardon me, have you seen my niece, Imogen?