John—[Putting them into his blouse.] Thank you, Kate Morley.
Kate—Now, tell me about everything. How is that mother of yours? I remember her—she was on the stage—she danced as they say, and she sang. She had a pet monkey—fed it honey out of a jar kept full by her admirers: grooms, stage hands, what not——
Henry—Yes, and she used to draw pictures of it in the style of Dürer—almost morbid—and later it caught a disease and died——
Kate—I don’t doubt it—and she, she had an under-lip like a balloon—and your father kissed that mouth, was even tempted——
James—My father often saw beyond the flesh.
Kate—Kissed such a creature!
Henry—At such times she was beautiful.
Kate—[With a touch of humility.] Yes, I’m sorry—I remember. Once I passed her, and instead of saying something, something horrible—she might—she looked down.
John—She was beautiful, looking down.
Kate—[Angry.] And I, I suppose I wasn’t beautiful to look at——