sarah. I don't want a little child.
carnaby. She to be Lady Leete . . someday . . soon! What has he done for his family?
sarah. I'll come with you. You are clever, Papa. And I know just what to say to Charles.
carnaby. [With a curious change of tone.] If you study anatomy you'll find that the brain, as it works, pressing forward the eyes . . thought is painful. Never be defeated. Chapter the latest . . the tickling of the Carp. And my throat is dry . . shall I drink that water?
sarah. No, I wouldn't.
carnaby. Not out of my hand?
ann. [Speaking in a strange quiet voice, after her long silence.] I will not come to Brighton with you.
carnaby. Very dry!
ann. You must go back, Sally.
carnaby. [As he looks at her, standing stiffly.] Now what is Ann's height . . five feet . . ?