MARY. But how could you? He—
FAITH. I—I couldn't see inside him.
MARY. Yes; but he looked—couldn't you see he looked—?
FAITH. [Suddenly flinging up her head] If you'd been two years without a word, you'd believe anyone that said he liked you.
MARY. Perhaps I should.
FAITH. But I don't want him—he's a liar. I don't like liars.
MARY. I'm awfully sorry.
FAITH. [Looking at her] Yes—you keep off feeling—then you'll be happy!
[Rising] Good-bye!
MARY. Where are you going?
FAITH. To my father.