Gray. [For the first time taking her seriously] Say that again, Margaret, if you dare—
Margaret. I’ve got to—stay— [With a sharp crying note in her voice] Gray, Gray, don’t look at me like that!
He turns abruptly away from her and walks across to the hearth. He stands a moment, deep in thought, takes out and lights a cigarette, realises what he is doing, and with an exclamation flings it into the fire. Then he comes to Margaret, who has not moved.
Gray. [Very quietly] This—this is rather an extraordinary statement, isn’t it?
Margaret. [Shrinking] Don’t use—that tone.
Gray. I am being as patient as I can. But—it’s not easy.
Margaret. Easy—?
Gray. Do you mind telling me exactly what you mean?
Margaret. I can’t talk. You know I’m not clever. I’m trying to do what’s right—
Gray. Then shall I tell you?