Mrs. Denham.
Heaven help me, that girl drives me mad!
Denham.
Nerves, nerves, as usual. She irritates you, and you irritate her. The mere presence of a child sets your teeth on edge. (Crosses, and sits r of table.)
Mrs. Denham.
My brain has been torn to pieces by children all my life. I was a slave to my own brothers and sisters, because I was the eldest.
Denham.
That was very hard, I know; but your own child is different, surely?
Mrs. Denham.
You seem to think I don't love her?