Avonia.
[With a little screech.] Ah—h—h! she ought to be told!
Tom.
[Seizing her wrist.] Woman, you won't——!
Avonia.
[Raising her disengaged hand.] By all my hopes of hitting 'em——!
Tom.
All right, I believe you. [Listening.] Sssh!
[They rise and separate, he moving to the fire, she to the right, as Rose enters. Rose is now a grave, dignified, somewhat dreamy young woman.]