AMY. ‘Evening dress?’
GINEVRA. ‘It is always evening dress. And don’t be afraid of his Man, dear; they always have a Man.’
AMY. ‘Oh, Ginevra.’
GINEVRA. ‘First try fascination. You remember how they fling back their cloak—like this, dear. If that fails, threaten him. You must get back the letters. There are always letters.’
AMY. ‘If father should suspect and follow? They usually do.’
GINEVRA. ‘Then you must sacrifice yourself for her. Does my dearest falter?’
AMY, pressing Ginevra’s hand, ‘I will do my duty. Oh, Ginevra, what things there will be to put in my diary to-night.’