MARGARET (critical, as an artist's daughter should be.) The moon is rather pale to-night, isn't she?
DEARTH. Comes of keeping late hours.
MARGARET (showing off). Daddy, watch me, look at me. Please, sweet moon, a pleasant expression. No, no, not as if you were sitting or it; that is too professional. That is better; thank you. Now keep it. That is the sort of thing you say to them, Dad.
DEARTH (quickly at work). I oughtn't to have brought you out so late; you should be tucked up in your cosy bed at home.
MARGARET (pursuing a squirrel that isn't there). With the pillow anyhow.
DEARTH. Except in its proper place.
MARGARET (wetting the other foot). And the sheet over my face.
DEARTH. Where it oughtn't to be.
MARGARET (more or less upside down). And Daddy tiptoeing in to take it off.
DEARTH. Which is more than you deserve.