Valentine White.
[Looking into the box.] Imogen! The tea-things! I recognize them!
Imogen.
You see, I’ve never parted with my playthings, Val.
Valentine White.
[Dragging out a large, faded, once gaudy doll.] And here’s Rosa! I helped to cut out Rosa’s mantle. Battered old Rosa!
Imogen.
[Taking the doll from him.] Don’t! Old she may be, but her sex should protect her from insult.
Valentine White.
And here are my marbles! and the top! Ah, ah! the skipping-rope! Imogen—perhaps—I—I’ve done you an injustice.