Sophy.
D—d—do you?
Pollitt.
[Hotly.] Anyhow I resent your being the go-between of this gallant captain and a girl betrothed to another man—you who are naturally such a thorough lady!
Sophy.
Oh—oh, Valma—!
[She drops her head upon his shoulder and whimpers.
Pollitt.
Dearest, what have I said?
Sophy.