MAGGIE. I’m sorry—I—I don’t care for kissing in front of people.
FOSTER. [getting bolder.] There’s no one here now.
MAGGIE rises, turns, and looking at him very straight, then lifts her face—pause—and going to him, kisses him on the lips. He keeps her close to him till she gently moves herself away.
I’ve got something here—you said the other day you wanted—you would like one of those Dutch brooches.
He puts his hand in his coat pocket and brings out a little parcel.
Here it is!
MAGGIE. [unfastens it.] It is good of you! You are so thoughtful!
She looks at him.
I suppose— [She kisses him again.]
Delighted, he keeps hold of her hand. She looks at him and then at her hand imprisoned in his, and then away at the fire.