MILLY. Audrie, you are queer to-night. You’ll be ill again.
AUDR. Yes, duckie, I hope so.
MILLY. What’s the matter with you?
AUDR. Life’s the matter with me, I think. I’ve got it badly, and I don’t know how to cure myself.
MILLY. I wish you wouldn’t talk nonsense, and run about on silly errands in the dark.
AUDR. I won’t for long. When my head is tightly bandaged in a white cloth, I can’t talk any more nonsense, can I? And when my feet are comfortably tucked up in my final night-gown I can’t run after stone saints in the dark, can I?
MILLY. Oh, you give me the creeps. I can’t imagine why you wanted to come out to-night.
AUDR. To decorate the church.
MILLY. Don’t you think it’s decorated enough?
AUDR. (looking). No, it wants a few more touches. I must just titivate a cherub’s nose, or hang a garland on an apostle’s toe, just to show my deep, deep devotion——