Vera.
No, you're frivolous! Well, you've taken the right chair. I can't ever resist. [She arranges the curtain, &c., while he talks.
Adene.
I begin to repent: it is so like a dentist's. Is it going to hurt? You must tell me when to grip the arms of the chair and keep myself violently still. Now what am I to do?
Vera.
Look at my finger and don't talk. [Examines eyes. With sudden change of expression and voice.] Now down!
[Adene gets up as she puts the instrument down.
Adene.
Not the other too? I can bear it. Or wasn't I quiet enough? You seem disappointed in me. [Rises.