FAITH. [With a sway towards him] It's not—!
YOUNG M. I'm off! Bong Swore la Companee! He tarns on his heel and walks out unhindered.
P. C. MAN. [Deeply] A bad hat, that; if ever there was one. We'll be having him again before long.
He looks at FAITH. They all look at FAITH. But her face is so
strange, so tremulous, that they all turn their eyes away.
FAITH. He—he said—he—!
On the verge of an emotional outbreak, she saves herself by an
effort. A painful silence.
P. C. MAN. Well, sir—that's all. Good evening! He turns to the door, touching his forehead to MR MARCH, and goes.
As the door closes, FAITH sinks into a chair, and burying her face in her hands, sobs silently. MRS MARCH sits motionless with a faint smile. JOHNNY stands at the window biting his nails. MARY crosses to FAITH.
MARY. [Softly] Don't. You weren't really fond of him?
FAITH bends her head.