ALICE. ‘Oh, Mr. Rollo. What do you think, dear?’
AMY, reflecting, ‘If it be clearly understood that this is good-bye, I consent. Please be as brief as possible.’
Somehow they think that she is moving to the door, but she crosses only to the other side of the room and sits down with a book. One of them likes this very much.
STEVE, who is not the one, ‘But I want to see her alone.’
AMY, the dearest of little gaolers, ‘That, I am afraid, I cannot permit. It is not that I have not perfect confidence in you, mother, but you must see I am acting wisely.’
ALICE. ‘Yes, Amy.’
STEVE, to his Alice, ‘What has come over you? You don’t seem to be the same woman.’
AMY. ‘That is just it; she is not.’
ALICE. ‘I see now only through Amy’s eyes.’
AMY. ‘They will not fail you, mother. Proceed, sir.’