ALICE. ‘What is to be done?’
AMY. ‘Though I abhor him I must marry him for aye. Ginevra is to be my only bridesmaid. We are both to wear black.’
ALICE, sharply, ‘You are sure you don’t rather like him, Amy?’
AMY. ‘Mother!’
ALICE. ‘Amy, weren’t you terrified to come alone to the rooms of a man you didn’t even know? Some men—’
AMY. ‘I was not afraid. I am a soldier’s daughter; and Ginevra gave me this.’
She produces a tiny dagger. This is altogether too much for Alice.
ALICE. ‘My darling!’
She does have the babe in her arms at last, and now Amy clings to her. This is very sweet to Alice; but she knows that if she tells Amy the truth at once its first effect will be to make the dear one feel ridiculous. How can Alice hurt her Amy so, Amy who has such pride in having saved her? ‘You do love me a little, Amy, don’t you?’
AMY. ‘Yes, yes.’