SIMON. Surely you——
MRS. MORLAND. We had her back again, Simon; that was the great thing. At first we thought to tell her after we got her home; and then, it was all so inexplicable, we were afraid to alarm her, to take the bloom off her. In the end we decided never to tell her.
SIMON. You told no one?
MR. MORLAND. Several doctors.
SIMON. How did they explain it?
MR. MORLAND. They had no explanation for it except that it never took place. You can think that, too, if you like.
SIMON. I don’t know what to think. It has had no effect on her, at any rate.
MR. MORLAND. None whatever—and you can guess how we used to watch.
MRS. MORLAND. Simon, I am very anxious to be honest with you. I have sometimes thought that our girl is curiously young for her age—as if—you know how just a touch of frost may stop the growth of a plant and yet leave it blooming—it has sometimes seemed to me as if a cold finger had once touched my Mary Rose.
SIMON. Mrs. Morland!