JOANNA (faltering). Yes, but he saw you kiss my hand. Jack, if Mabel were to suspect!
PURDIE (happily). There is nothing for her to suspect.
JOANNA (eagerly). No, there isn't, is there? (She is desirous ever to be without a flaw.) Jack, I am not doing anything wrong, am I?
PURDIE. You!
(With an adorable gesture she gives him one of her hands, and manlike he takes the other also.)
JOANNA. Mabel is your wife, Jack. I should so hate myself if I did anything that was disloyal to her.
PURDIE (pressing her hand to her eyes as if counting them, in the strange manner of lovers). Those eyes could never be disloyal—my lady of the nut-brown eyes. (He holds her from him, surveying her, and is scorched in the flame of her femininity.) Oh, the sveldtness of you. (Almost with reproach.) Joanna, why are you so sveldt!
(For his sake she would be less sveldt if she could, but she can't. She admits her failure with eyes grown still larger, and he envelops her so that he may not see her. Thus men seek safety.)
JOANNA (while out of sight). All I want is to help her and you.
PURDIE. I know—how well I know—my dear brave love.