Oh, to explain—quite so. [With mock solicitude.] Ah, you've been very ill; I ought to have seen that before.
Mrs. Cortelyon.
Ill!
Paula.
You look dreadfully pulled down. We poor women show illness so plainly in our faces, don't we?
Aubrey.
[Anxiously.] Paula dear, Mrs. Cortelyon is the picture of health.
Mrs. Cortelyon.
[With some asperity.] I have never felt better in my life.
Paula.