JOHNNY. Yes—that's just it. I didn't mean to It won't do.
FAITH. Why not?
JOHNNY. No, no! It's just the opposite of what—No, no!
He goes to the door, wrenches it open and goes out.
FAITH, still with that little half-mocking, half-contented smile, resumes the clearing of the table. She is interrupted by the entrance through the French windows of MR MARCH and MARY, struggling with one small wet umbrella.
MARY. [Feeling his sleeve] Go and change, Dad.
MR MARCH. Women's shoes! We could have made the Tube but for your shoes.
MARY. It was your cold feet, not mine, dear. [Looking at FAITH and nudging him] Now!
She goes towards the door, turns to look at FAITH still clearing the
table, and goes out.
MR MARCH. [In front of the hearth] Nasty spring weather, Faith.