Good!—yes! Do you imagine that makes me less jealous? [Going to him and clinging to his arm.] Aubrey, there are two sorts of affection—the love for a woman you respect, and the love for a woman you—love. She gets the first from you: I never can.
Aubrey.
Hush, hush! you don't realise what you say.
Paula.
If Ellean cared for me only a little, it would be different. I shouldn't be jealous then. Why doesn't she care for me?
Aubrey.
She—she—she will, in time.
Paula.
You can't say that without stuttering.
Aubrey.