They all sit.
Mrs. Blow: And is there any startling news, Mr. President?
Lincoln: Madam, every morning when I wake up, and say to myself, a hundred, or two hundred, or a thousand of my countrymen will be killed to-day, I find it startling.
Mrs. Blow: Oh, yes, of course, to be sure. But I mean, is there any good news.
Lincoln: Yes. There is news of a victory. They lost twenty-seven hundred men—we lost eight hundred.
Mrs. Blow: How splendid!
Lincoln: Thirty-five hundred.
Mrs. Blow: Oh, but you mustn't talk like that, Mr. President. There were only eight hundred that mattered.
Lincoln: The world is larger than your heart, madam.
Mrs. Blow: Now the dear President is becoming whimsical, Mrs. Lincoln.