Sir William.
[Fumbling in his pocket.] Ah, but he's not. He's alive [producing a small packet of letters]. Arthur's alive, [advancing to her] and full of his tricks still. His great-aunt Trafalgar receives a letter from him once a fortnight, posted in London——
Rose.
[Holding out her hand for the letters.] Oh!
Sir William.
[Putting them behind his back.] Hey!
Rose.
[Faintly.] I thought you wished me to read them. [He yields them to her grudgingly, she taking his hand and bending over it.] Ah, thank you.
Sir William.
[Withdrawing his hand with a look of disrelish.] What are ye doing, madam? what are ye doing?