SIMON (counting). Eleven. Go on, give it all the news. Tell it we don’t have a house of our own yet.
MARY ROSE. You see, dear seat, we live with my daddy and mother, because Simon is so often away at sea. You know, the loveliest thing in the world is the navy, and the loveliest thing in the navy is H.M.S. Valiant, and the loveliest thing on H.M.S. Valiant is Lieutenant Simon Sobersides, and the loveliest thing on Lieutenant Simon Sobersides is the little tuft of hair which will keep standing up at the back of his head.
(SIMON, who is lolling on the moss, is so used to her prattle that his eyes close.)
But, listen, you trees, I have a much more wonderful secret than that. You can have three guesses. It is this ... I—have—got—a baby! A girl? No thank you. He is two years and nine months, and he says such beautiful things to me about loving me. Oh, rowan, do you think he means them?
SIMON. I distinctly heard it say yes.
(He opens his eyes, to see her gazing entranced across the water.)
You needn’t pretend that you can see him.
MARY ROSE. I do. Can’t you? He is waving his bib to us.
SIMON. That is nurse’s cap.
MARY ROSE. Then he is waving it. How clever of him. (She waves her handkerchief.) Now they are gone. Isn’t it funny to think that from this very spot I used to wave to father? That was a happy time.