MRS. BARLOW. The fate is in the blood: you can't change the blood.
(Enter WINIFRED.)
WINIFRED. Oh, thank you, Oliver, for the wolf and the goat, thank you so much!—The wolf has sprung on the goat, Miss Wrath, and has her by the throat.
ANABEL. The wolf?
OLIVER. It's a little marble group—Italian—in hard marble.
WINIFRED. The wolf—I love the wolf—he pounces so beautifully. His backbone is so terribly fierce. I don't feel a bit sorry for the goat, somehow.
OLIVER. I didn't. She is too much like the wrong sort of clergyman.
WINIFRED. Yes—such a stiff, long face. I wish he'd kill her.
MRS. BARLOW. There's a wish!
WINIFRED. Father and Gerald are coming. That's them, I suppose.