MRS. M. [a little impatiently to MAGGIE.] Don’t talk like that, my dear.
MASSEY. Of course she says she isn’t. She’s a modest young woman—I never heard you say you were in a hurry, my dear.
MRS. M. Of course I shouldn’t—to you.
MASSEY. Ha, ha! You put on the shy business then. Lord! these women. [MAGGIE moves towards table.] Come, now, Mag, confess! You think of it sometimes.
MAGGIE. I think of it a lot.
MASSEY. There you are! There you are! What did I say?
MAGGIE. And what do you think I think about it?
MASSEY. How should I know. Wedding, I suppose. I bet you never think of anything else after the wedding day.
MAGGIE. [slowly.] I think of the wedding dress, and the bridesmaids, and the pages. Shall I have pages, Mum?
MRS. M. Maggie!