SIMON. Oh, I should have to hop it.
MARY ROSE. Dear!
SIMON. Oh, I haven’t popped off yet. Steady, you nearly knocked over the pickles. (He regards her curiously.) If I did go, I know your first thought would be ‘The happiness of Harry must not be interfered with for a moment.’ You would blot me out for ever, Mary Rose, rather than he should lose one of his hundred laughs a day.
(She hides her face.)
It’s true, isn’t it?
MARY ROSE. It is true, at any rate, that if I was the one to go, that is what I should like you to do.
SIMON. Get off the table-cloth.
(Her mouth opens.)
Don’t step on the marmalade.
MARY ROSE (gloriously). Simon, isn’t life lovely! I am so happy, happy, happy. Aren’t you?