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?"
MR MARCH. [Pocketing his pen] Coming with me to the British Museum? I want to have a look at the Assyrian reliefs.