ALICE. ‘Poor indeed with such a daughter.’
AMY. ‘He has gone, mother; so do you really think you need keep up this pretence before me?’
ALICE. ‘Amy, what you need is a whipping.’
AMY. ‘You ought to know what I need.’
The agonised mother again tries to envelop her unnatural child.
ALICE. ‘Amy, Amy, it was all Steve’s fault.’
AMY, struggling as with a boa constrictor, ‘You needn’t expect me to believe that.’
ALICE. ‘No doubt you thought at the beginning that he was a gallant gentleman.’
AMY. ‘Not at all; I knew he was depraved from the moment I set eyes on him.’
ALICE. ‘My Amy! Then how—how—’