"Till your father and mother die?"
"Oh, gracious, no! I'm not killing the poor lambs. Till they come round. They'll come round."
"How do you know?"
"Because fathers and mothers always do. Once they see how sad I'll be—"
"Oh, you're going to play that game."
She was indignant. "I shan't play a game. I shall be sad. I'm all right now while you're here; but once you're gone—well, if dad and mother want a martyr on their hands they'll have one. I shan't be putting it on either. I'll not be able to help myself."
"I'd rather they came around for some other reason than to save your life."
"I'm not particular about the reason so long as they come round. But you see I'm talking as if the worse were coming to the worst. As a matter of fact, I believe the better is coming to the best."
"Which means that you think the Whitelaws...."