MRS. MORLAND. There is nothing in it.
SIMON. What you are worrying about is just her innocence—which seems a holy thing to me.
MRS. MORLAND. And indeed it is.
SIMON. If that is all——
MR. MORLAND. We have sometimes thought that she had momentary glimpses back into that time, but before we could question her in a cautious way about them the gates had closed and she remembered nothing. You never saw her talking to—to some person who wasn’t there?
SIMON. No.
MRS. MORLAND. Nor listening, as it were, for some sound that never came?
SIMON. A sound? Do you mean a sound from the island?
MRS. MORLAND. Yes, we think so. But at any rate she has long outgrown those fancies.
(She fetches a sketch-book from a drawer.)