AMY. ‘Ginevra knew too.’
ALICE. ‘She knew!’
AMY. ‘We planned it together—to treat him in the same way as Sir Harry Paskill and Ralph Devereux.’
ALICE. ‘Amy, you are not in your senses. You don’t mean that there were others?’
AMY. ‘There was Major—Major—I forget his name, but he was another.’
ALICE, shaking her, ‘Wretched girl.’
AMY. ‘Leave go.’
ALICE. ‘How did you get to know them?’
AMY. ‘To know them? They are characters in plays.’
ALICE, bereft, ‘Characters in plays? Plays!’