Mrs. Beetle. Night and morning, toiled and moiled and saved and scraped.
Mr. Beetle. And we’ve seen it grow and grow, haven’t we, bit by bit—our little ball of blessedness.
Mrs. Beetle. Our very own it is.
Mr. Beetle. Our very own.
Mrs. Beetle. Our life’s work.
Mr. Beetle. Smell it, old woman—pinch it—feel the weight of it. Ours—ours.
Mrs. Beetle. A godsend.
Mr. Beetle. A blessing—straight from Heaven—capital—capital.
Chrysalis. Eternal night is breaking: The universe is waking: One minute, just one minute And I—I—shall be in it.
Mrs. Beetle. Husband.