Hilary. What’s that? [He comes nearer.]
Margaret. I—I—
Hilary. [Staring at her] You don’t say a word. One would think you weren’t glad to see me. Aren’t you glad to see me?
Margaret. Of course—glad—you poor Hilary!
Hilary. If you knew what it is to say to myself—I’m at home! That place—!
Margaret. [Mechanically] Oh, but there was every comfort.
Hilary. Hell! Hell!
Margaret. [Insisting] But they were good to you?
Hilary. Good enough.
Margaret. [In acute distress] They didn’t—ill-treat—?