sarah. [Not leaving ann's side.] Yes, Papa.
carnaby. Sarah, when Sir Charles leaves Brighton. . .
sarah rises but will not move further.
carnaby. [Sweetly threatening.] Shall I come to you?
But she goes to him now.
carnaby. By a gossip letter from town . . .
sarah. [Tensely.] What is it?
carnaby. You mentioned to me something of his visiting Naples.
sarah. Very well. I detest Italy.
carnaby. Let's have George's opinion.