He takes back the sheet of paper, clutches his brow, and crosses to the door. As he passes FAITH, she looks up at him with eyes full of expression. JOHNNY catches the look, jibs ever so little, and goes out.
COOK'S VOICE. [Through the door, which is still ajar] Faith!
FAITH puts the decanters on the table, and goes quickly out.
MR MARCH. [Who has seen this little by-play—to himself—in a voice of dismay] Oh! oh! I wonder!
CURTAIN.
ACT II
A fortnight later in the MARCH'S dining-room; a day of violent
April showers. Lunch is over and the table littered with, remains—
twelve baskets full.
MR MARCH and MARY have lingered. MR MARCH is standing by the hearth
where a fire is burning, filling a fountain pen. MARY sits at the
table opposite, pecking at a walnut.
MR MARCH. [Examining his fingers] What it is to have an inky present!
Suffer with me, Mary!
MARY. "Weep ye no more, sad Fountains!
Why need ye flow so fast?"