Helena—Theft of much, makes much to return——
Storm—The world allows a man his own thoughts.
Helena—Oh, no——
Storm—At least my thoughts are my own.
Helena—Not one, so far.
Storm—What does that mean?
Helena—You’ll know when you try to think them again.
Storm—You mean I’m not making headway—well, you’re right, I’m not——
Helena—Now tell me what brought you through the window.
Storm—[Relieved.] I’m glad you ask that, it’s the first human thing that’s happened this afternoon.