ROBERT.
[Grimly.] So can I. The asthmatic voice of protestantism.
BERTHA.
Did you not enjoy yourself down there, Miss Justice?
ROBERT.
[Intervenes.] She did not, Mrs Rowan. She goes there on retreat, when the protestant strain in her prevails—gloom, seriousness, righteousness.
BEATRICE.
I go to see my father.
ROBERT.
[Continuing.] But she comes back here to my mother, you see. The piano influence is from our side of the house.
BERTHA.
[Hesitating.] Well, Miss Justice, if you would like to play something... But please don’t fatigue yourself with Archie.
ROBERT.
[Suavely.] Do, Beatty. That is what you want.
BEATRICE.
If Archie will come?
ARCHIE.
[With a shrug.] To listen.
BEATRICE.
[Takes his hand.] And a little lesson, too. Very short.