Maidie. Shall I fly when I’m grown up? I’ve got wings, too. (Shows her feet, on the heels of which a tiny pair of wings appear.)
Laddie (jealously). I didn’t know you had them. That’s why you can jump over things and get ahead of me.
Enter Dr. Thorne and Mrs. Fayth.
Mrs. Fayth. Doctor, I don’t know what ails me. Perhaps it’s a symptom—a moral symptom—but I can’t help thinking of Cleo. I wonder—
Dr. Thorne (with reserve). I do not care to speak of the woman.
Mrs. Fayth. You are right. But I did not mean to be wrong. (I think it must have been a symptom.) It’s the first time I’ve felt nervous since I died. I beg your pardon.
Laddie (running to meet them). Papa! Maidie’s got wings on her feet. Why don’t I have some? Papa! Papa! Come into your new house. It grew up out of the woods—like—like acorns.
Dr. Thorne (addressing Mrs. Fayth, looking towards the cottage). It is a shelter for the child, at all events. Quite in accordance with my present social position in this place—a mere cottage—but it makes him a home, poor little fellow!
Mrs. Fayth. It’s just what Helen would like. She hates palaces.
Dr. Thorne (starts as if stabbed; makes no reply).