lucy davenport. Will you wear my skirt? Oh . . Grandmamma's thinking me vulgar.
lady davenport. [Without prejudice.] Why, my dear, freedom of limb is worth having . . and perhaps it fits better with freedom of tongue.
farrant. [In the proper avuncular tone.] I'll play you both . . and I'd race you both if you weren't so disgracefully young.
amy o'connell has reached an open window.
amy o'connell. I shall go for a walk with my neuralgia.
mrs. farrant. Poor thing!
amy o'connell. The moon's good for it.
lucy davenport. Shall you come, Aunt Julia?
mrs. farrant. [In flat protest.] No, I will not sit up while you play billiards.
mrs. o'connell goes out through the one window, stands for a moment, wistfully romantic, gazing at the moon, then disappears. farrant and walter kent are standing at the other, looking across the lawn.