ROBERT.
[To Richard and Bertha.] Goodbye to pappa and mamma. But not a big goodbye.
ARCHIE.
Will you tell me a fairy story, Mr Hand?
ROBERT.
A fairy story? Why not? I am your fairy godfather.
[They go out together through the double doors and down the garden. When they have gone Bertha goes to Richard and puts her arm round his waist.]
BERTHA.
Dick, dear, do you believe now that I have been true to you? Last night and always?
RICHARD.
[Sadly.] Do not ask me, Bertha.
BERTHA.
[Pressing him more closely.] I have been, dear. Surely you believe me. I gave you myself—all. I gave up all for you. You took me—and you left me.
RICHARD.
When did I leave you?
BERTHA.
You left me: and I waited for you to come back to me. Dick, dear, come here to me. Sit down. How tired you must be!
[She draws him towards the lounge. He sits down, almost reclining, resting on his arm. She sits on the mat before the lounge, holding his hand.]